Shit.
What if she slipped out?
That would be pretty fucking wild of her, but if there’s anything I’ve discovered tonight, it’s that Janella Driscoll is unpredictable.
“God fucking damn it,” I mutter under my breath, marching right past the saleswoman who looks up in alarm. I don’t stop for her.
I push into the fitting room, the latch giving way with little force.
Janella whips around with a shriek, instinctively swatting at me. “What the—Iosif!What the hell?”
I can’t move.
She’s wearing the emerald green dress. Partially, at least. The zipper must be caught. It is caught and held up halfway by the full swell of her breasts. The air-conditioning in the store has turned her nipples hard… left them straining against the lace of her bra.
Oh, fuck.
“The zipper’s stuck,” she says earnestly, pleadingly. “I wasn’t—I didn’t—it won’tbudge,and I didn’t want to rip it. It’s so…”
“Turn around.” My voice comes out hoarse.
She seems to search my face. I don’t know what the fuck she sees there, but she turns, presenting me with the problem. I push aside the waterfall of blonde. Her skin beneath it is smooth and freckled, like she’s dotted with chocolate chips. There’s a tiny mole beneath her left shoulder blade—
Focus.
I step closer, and she smells like pomegranates. There’s a note of warm spice, too. I have to force myself to zero in on the zipper’s teeth, which have caught on the fabric. Pinching the fabric together, I have to work the zipper downward.
It feels sinful to bare more of her skin.
This close, there’s no missing her sharp inhale. Or the gooseflesh that sprawls across every inch of her. I could smooth that down with my tongue.
“Hold still,” I murmur, carefully zipping the dress back up. My knuckles drag up the notches of her spine. God, the way she shivers…
I meet my own eyes in the mirror. The sight of my blown pupils jolts me, and I drop my hands. I step back, stepping right out of the space.
“There! Fixed.”
I sound insane.
“Thank you,” Janella whispers back, looking up at me.
Her cheeks are flushed, dewy lips parted.
“Try on the rest,” I tell her, turning on my heel as fast as I can. “I’ll be out there. No rush.”
I don’t wait for her response before I high-tail it the fuck away from her.
This isnotwhy I married the poor girl. I did it to offer her protection. With good conscience, too, because she’s definitely not my type. She’s all wide-eyed innocence, the epitome of a damsel in distress. That’s not what I’m into. I like women who take charge, who can give me a run for my fucking money. Women who carefully fuss with themselves and demand I spoil them.
Unlike this woman. Who wouldn’t know what to do with just how badly I could spoil her…
Nope.Abort that thought right now, motherfucker.
“Fuck,” I mutter, dropping back down onto the couch heavily.
Chapter 6 - Janella
There is a moment before I wake when I am sure it was all a dream. Then, I open my eyes.
