“Will you zip my dress?” I ask him, trying not to drool at how incredibly hot he looks in his suit, with no tie, of course. Just like roses, he thinks wearing a tie with a suit is too expected. I turn around as he enters. Damp towels are on the floor from our shower, my makeup is scattered across the vanity, and my dress hangs on the hook behind the door.
Xander loves the dark blue sapphire satin because he says it matches my eyes. It’s short, sleeveless, and just about backless. First, letting his fingertips skim across my skin, he ties the cord that spans my back and holds the dress in place, and I shiver. He moves to the zipper at my side and with his finger he trails a line from my hip to under my arm. He takes his time zipping it and when he’s done he smooths the zipper with his palm and I can barely keep myself upright.
He’s quiet. Not saying a word. I turn around to face him and he’s pressing his fist into his mouth.
“You said you loved it?”
“Fuck, Ivy, it’s sexy as hell,” he growls.
I smile and blush at the same time.
“But don’t you think there’s a little too much skin showing in the back?” he asks.
This actually makes me laugh. I used to think he didn’t want me to show off my body because he didn’t like other guys to see it. But now I think I was wrong—it’s because him seeing so much skin drives him wild, and I love that! I step close to him. “I think it’s the perfect amount of skin,” I whisper hotly against his lips.
He catches my mouth and kisses me. “Yeah, for roving hands who want to feel you in places where they shouldn’t be,” he breathes, sliding a hand into the side of my dress and squeezing my breast.
Smiling, I say, “Trust me, you’re the only one thinking that way.”
I turn around and throw him a wink, but before I can move away his hands are on my hips and when I rock back against him, I can feel the heat and hardness of his cock beneath the layers of fabric. He mumbles something against my skin that sounds like, “Fuck, you’d think I was fourteen again,” but I don’t ask why because the softness of his mouth in my ear and the feel of his breath against my cheek is all I care about. He turns me around and anchors his hips to mine. He slips his arms around my waist and I place mine around his neck. His feet start to move in a slow circle—he’s dancing with me in the bathroom. I strain to hear the lyrics to the song playing as his fingers trace the exposed bumps of my spine. He draws me closer and I can smell his cologne—a mix of the sea, the sun, the earth, and a Mediterranean breeze. I breathe him in and become intoxicated by his scent.
“You smell so good,” I murmur in his ear.
“You like it? I wore it for you.”
“Mmm-hmmm . . .”
My head fits perfectly on his shoulder and I find all the comfort I need for the night ahead right here in him. His hands slide up the center of my back—the skin against skin contact makes me forget any apprehension I’m feeling. He suddenly dips me and pulls me back to him. “We have to go,” he murmurs. But instead of letting me go, he kisses me again.
“We have to go,” I breathe around his lips. I can feel his sexy smile against my mouth, but I somehow manage to break free and make my way back over to the vanity on shaky legs. I pick up my earrings—the sapphires that dangle with stars at the bottom. He grins at me as I put them in both ears. We stare at each other and I’m sure we’re both remembering the woman who gave me her earrings because she just knew I was going to be a star.
? ? ?
I’m still tingling when we get in the car. He hits the gas and takes off, but instead of taking a right to head toward the studio he takes a left. “Where are you going?”
“I’m sorry, baby. I have one stop I have to make before the party.”
About thirty seconds elapse and he pulls over. “Oh, I forgot one thing.” He grins as he pulls out the piece of fabric from Garrett’s yoga swing that he used as a blindfold when he took me to Niagara Falls. “You have to wear this.”
I look at him in surprise. “Why? I can’t see where you have to stop along the way?”
“Just turn around,” he tells me with a smirk, and I do. He ties the fabric around my head and kisses my hair.
I’m not sure how much time passes before he parks the car and turns the ignition off. I rest my hand on the door handle and he says, “Wait for me.”
He quickly opens my door and guides me out. I have no idea where we’re going. Soon I hear the click of a lock and we seem to be inside somewhere, but then I hear another click and we’re back outside. When I hear another lock open, I ask, “Xander, where are we?”