“No. This is too much, Reid. I’m taking it off.”
Since their assistant was off helping someone else, he’d have to assume this must be the “little black dress” she insisted was a necessity in every woman’s wardrobe. “Either you come out, or I’m coming in. Doesn’t matter to me either way.”
A sigh of exasperation preceded grumbling of what sounded like his name in mixed company with some very unfavorable threats against his manhood. And yet he smiled. He couldn’t help it; she was adorable when ornery.
At last she opened the door from the dressing room and strode the few feet to stand in front of him, hands on her hips and glaring at him for all she was worth. “It’s immodest.”
He gave her a slow once over and couldn’t see how it could be considered even remotely immodest. In fact, he was almost disappointed in it. Though the thin material of the dress complemented her body the way a sexy nightgown would, the front of it covered her all the way up to her collarbones and didn’t show any skin until it ended at midthigh.
“That’s not immodest, sweetheart,” he said as he leaned back against the cushions and crossed his arms over his chest. “That’s called dull.”
“Oh really?” Pivoting on the strappy black heels, she gave him her back…and he forgot to breathe.
Where the front of her dress had lacked, the back of it more than compensated. Her entire back was open with the exception of a single spaghetti strap that ran across her shoulder blades connecting the two sides of her dress. The material followed the lines of her back with the right side sweeping over her lower back to gather just above the back of her left hip. “Christ.”
“Like I said…” She walked over to the three-way mirror and let her hands fall at her sides.
Reid moved to stand behind her. His fingers itched to trace the dip of her spine. He couldn’t help but wonder how she’d react during the day, where people could see them, and without the benefit of wine. Would she pull away in shock and embarrassment? Or would she shiver and arch into his touch?
When he realized he was in serious danger of sporting wood despite his convictions from the previous night, he put his sexual thoughts in a mental guillotine hold, hoping to choke the life out of them before they ruined the dry spell he needed to continue where Lucie was concerned. Knock it off, jackass.
“You’re not exactly giving anyone a T&A peekaboo show, Luce.”
“But—”
“But nothing. Whether you choose to believe it or not, this dress is sexy and classy.” His gaze dropped from hers in the mirror to study the part of her that was open for the world to see. “The back is one of my favorite parts of a woman’s body. I love to trace and lick the shallow line of her spine, from the top and all the way down to the twin dimples at the base of her lower back.” Reid just barely stopped himself from adding that he also loved to watch the movement of his lover’s shoulder blades when he placed her hands above her head to take her from behind.
He looked up to find her eyes narrowed and scrutinizing him. “My point is, Lucie, a woman’s back is graceful. Not shameful.” When all she did was give him a noncommittal uh-huh he cleared his throat and crossed his arms over his chest. “What?”
She shook her head slightly as though she wasn’t sure what to make of him. “There’s more to you than meets the eye, isn’t there?”
He grinned and raised a brow. “I’m not a Transformer, if that’s what you mean.”
That at least brought out a light chuckle as she turned to face him. “No, I mean, you’re not just a fighter. You see things differently than most people. There’s a very artistic side to you.”
No one had ever said that to him before. It felt like a lifetime had passed since he’d done anything but fight. Not that he didn’t love his sport, but sometimes he wished it wasn’t all he was. He shrugged. “I was once, I guess. My senior year of high school I tried taking shop class, but a glitch in the system put me in an art class instead. I couldn’t paint worth a damn, but I learned how to sketch and draw fairly well. And then we got to the sculpting…” Reid tensed as his father’s disapproval came flooding back to him. It was hard for him to think about sculpting at all anymore without the memories of his father trashing all of his supplies and the makeshift studio he’d made for himself.
“Reid?” Brought out of his thoughts, his eyes flicked up. “What about the sculpting?”
“Never mind. It’s not important.” Turning around he was about to call the assistant back to help gather the outfits, but Lucie grabbed his hand to stop him, placing herself square in his line of sight again.