Page 31

Chapter 31

Zack

It’s not lost on me that I’m practically touching Emilie’s tits as we try to unzip this dress. The one that short circuited my brain. The purplish-blue color, light and like it was made for her skin, and the plunging front where I was begging to see more of her.

In my dreams, it will keep going and going, until it’s her, bare for me.

Fucking hell.

“Ready,” she confirms.

Emilie bunches the fabric, and I pull the zipper down and toward me.

“I don’t have man hands. These are hands of a champion,” I say, still focused on the zipper, moving like a knife through butter.

Just when I think we’re in the clear, the zipper snags one more time.

“Hands of a champion, huh?” Her eyes lock on mine, her voice teasing on the edges of her words.

I take my fingers that are not on the zipper and hook them to the inside of the fabric, needing more leverage. What I didn’t consider is the spark from touching her somewhere new. Closer to her waist than her ribs this time.

It’s also not helping that she’s not wearing a bra, which I realize as the fabric no longer held together by the faulty zipper gapes open at the top.

My dick is painfully aware of how much she’s not wearing a bra, and if I just pulled the fabric back a touch more, I’d see what I’ve been dreaming of .

Working together, I’m able to get the zipper past whatever it was caught on. I stand there, my hand still touching her, afraid to breathe, to change the moment. When Emilie doesn’t move or say anything, I take a chance and follow our new rule.

The new rule is doing what feels right.

I take the hand that’s on her side, below her ribs, and slowly draw it up her body, feeling her reaction underneath me. I can’t tell if she’s actually leaning into the touch or if I’m imagining the best-case scenario—her wanting this as much as I do.

“What feels right for you?” she asks, like she’s part reading my mind and part taunting me.

“You. All of you. All the time.” My fingers that crawled up her ribs are going back down.

“Well, we don’t want to break the rules, do we?” She catches my eyes in the mirror, and she offers this devilish grin that’s so fucking sexy. She’s tempting me. It’s a dare, one I’m happy to take her up on.

I step behind her, keeping her back to my front, and her eyes flash as the tip of my erection touches her ass.

“I must feel good,” she says, almost laughing, leaning back into me for real this time, not questioning it at all. This lean is everything. Every stolen glance. Every piece of tension.

Her hands stay at her sides, and the strap on the zipper side is almost falling off her shoulder. In the mirror, I see her glance at the strap and back to me.

I hook a finger under each of the straps and look at her one more time before doing what I think she wants. When she nods, giving me the green light, I slowly pull the straps down.

The fabric falls away from her skin, and my eyes trail the small of her back until a black lacy thong shows. I stop for a second, but Emilie pushes my hands down until the dress falls to the floor .

My hands touch the side of her hips and then up her sides, pausing at her ribs. Her heartbeat is quick under my touch, which damn near matches mine. I peel my eyes from her ass and watch her in the mirror. In just a pair of panties, she reaches an arm up around and hooks it around my neck, scratching the nape.

Without a second thought, my hands find her tits, the ones she’s put on display for me. I press a kiss to the side of her neck, and she turns, giving me more room. More area to cover.

I lick and kiss my way down to the spot where her neck and shoulder meet. I lightly bite, even though I want to fucking devour her. No matter how bad I want her, I know we’re in a fucking dressing room with other people in the building.

“That does feel right,” Emilie moans.

With that compliment, I feel her nipples in my hands, rolling the pink buds. I don’t quit kissing her, but look forward, and find her watching me through the mirror. Her eyes are wide, wild, and taking in every one of my movements. Her chest heaves as I squeeze her breasts, and when I shift back to her nipples, she closes her eyes.

Fuck .

“You’re actually killing me, you know that?” I turn and say into her ear, and then I’m kissing the soft spot behind it.

“ You’re the one making me needy. I want those hands,” she swallows and sucks in a breath, “everywhere.”

“Watch me through the mirror and maybe I will.” I draw soft circles on her sides, by her waist. My fingers are slow, teasing, and drawing out what we both crave.

Her eyes lock on mine, and I lazily move my hands down the front of her, until they’re at the top of her panties. Emilie’s breathing picks up, and her whole body moves with each breath she reaches for.

It’s intoxicating—seeing her respond this way to my touch .

I reach one arm up and across her body, grasping one of her breasts, and Emilie moans. Those sounds she makes, they’re unlike anything I’ve ever heard. It’s like my body wants to get them from her and then find a way to hoard them, keep them all to myself. I don’t want to share them. Fuck, I don’t want her making that noise for anyone else.

My other hand is still touching the lace of her panties, running my fingers along the place where the fabric meets her skin.

She watches me as I press my hand flat to her stomach and push it down, into her panties. Her head falls forward, eyes focused, and she bites her lip, pushing it into her teeth.

It’s hard to keep the pace slow. I’m torturing both of us but I have a feeling Emilie likes to be teased. The way she keeps following my lead, not rushing me. Not rushing us.

Fuck it, I can’t take it. I want to rush.

I go to put my fingers on her clit, but right before I can touch her, there’s a knock on the door.

“Are you two good in there? Do you need anything?” Mia’s cheerful voice kills the vibe.

We both freeze. I slowly remove my hands from Emilie and swallow. “Yeah, we’re good. Just had a zipper situation. We’ll be out front in a few minutes,” I call out.

“You got it,” she responds.

Emilie turns toward me, her tits still out, and she presses them to my chest when she wraps her arms around my neck.

Right before her lips find mine, she says, “A zipper situation, huh?”

“It wasn’t a lie.” My voice is like gravel, and I need something to drink.

Emilie puts her lips on mine for a kiss that puts the period at the end of whatever just happened.

Carefully, she picks the dress up, looks at me and says, “Looks like you need a minute. ”

I look down and my erection is there, teasing me about falling short.

“That would be correct.”