Jem’s brainwaves flatlined. “Uh.” Faced with River’s shockingly unmarked nape, he tried to remember how fingers worked. First he had to remind himself he had hands. “You’re just going to change in the car?”
River glanced over his shoulder. “If that’s okay. We don’t really have time to go home first. I packed another outfit.”
Well, Jem hadn’t thought he was just going to take the dress off and stay naked. He took a deep breath. “It’s fine. Uh, let me just….”
Let me just help you take your dress off in a totally unsexy way, while we are in the quiet back seat of a limo and I am wearing the tightest jeans known to man.Yep. Jem forcedhimself to go slow enough to avoid catching the fabric. Every tick of the zip opening burrowed into his hindbrain.
Finally he cleared his throat. “You’re good.”
“Perfect.” River flashed him another over-the-shoulder smile. A moment later he was wriggling the dress over his head. Jem fixed his eyes to the window into the driver’s compartment and counted backward from a hundred. He didn’t want to know what River was wearing under the dress.
“I gotta say,” came River’s voice from very close to Jem’s left, where Jem was resolutely not looking, “I love the vibe of a guy in a dress? It’s not transgressive really—clothes are clothes—but itfeelstransgressive and it makes conservatives mad. Also skirts are fun to swing around. But the shoes that go with the look? Fucking terrible. Whoever invented those should be shot.”
There were twin thunks as, presumably, the offending shoes Jem had declined to observe earlier hit the car floor. Without meaning to, he glanced down. River’s toenails were a shiny burgundy. “Did you get a pedicure?”
“Had to put my best foot forward.”
Jem snorted. “Naturally. I like the color. Very you.”
River stuck his right foot next to Jem’s red sneaker. He had hairy toe knuckles and surprisingly delicate ankles. “We match.”
Which was definitely on purpose, Jem was sure. “And you’re going to throw it all away for the sake of not flashing a bunch of Hollywood types.”
“Ye of little faith.” River rustled in a bag, pulled something out, and shimmied into it. “See?”
Automatically, Jem looked. River had pulled on a linen dress shirt in the same deep color. He still wasn’t wearing any pants. Jem tore his gaze away before he could start speculatingabout the strength in River’s thighs. “I think you forgot something.”
“Don’t worry, Jem, the underpants are for your eyes only.” More shimmying and shuffling, and then River said, “I’m decent now, you adorable prude.”
Jem flushed and met his eyes. “It would’ve been rude to watch.”
River shot him a grin, unfortunately not less alluring now in the shirt and black jeans. “You’re cute.” He pinched Jem’s cheek. “But honestly, I suffer from a criminal lack of modesty. Comes with the job.”
“So why not keep the dress on and flash everyone at the party?”
He shook his head. “I told you, that view is only for you. Now.” He turned in the seat to face Jem fully. “People are going to make certain assumptions about the wardrobe change.”
“They’re gonna think one of us jizzed on your dress,” Jem translated.
“Or that it was a casualty of us not being able to keep our hands off each other, yeah.” His dark eyes glinted with mischief. “So we should make sure you match.”
Oh Lord. “Please tell me you don’t want to ruin these clothes.” If anything happened to this jacket, Jem would cry.
“Oh, sweetheart, I wouldn’t do that to you.” He laughed. “Take the coat off and leave it in the car, though. And, hmm….”
Jem twisted out of the jacket. When he’d set it on the seat, River reached over and pulled on the hem of his shirt until the left side came untucked. Then he raised his hands toward Jem’s hair. “May I?”
Jem closed his eyes and tilted his head down.
The gentle scrape of River’s fingernails against his scalp sent sparks shivering down Jem’s spine. Heat flooded his face.There was something about this—about being paid to do what he was told, to let River dress him and style him and touch him as he liked—that made him feel too big for his skin, like the pressure inside was going to split him open.
River took his time mussing Jem’s hair until it was disheveled to his satisfaction and then pronounced, “There. Perfect.”
Jem inhaled sharply and pulled back. He needed a moment to get himself together. With limited options available, he glanced at his watch.
That didn’t help—he had a visceral flashback to River putting it on him—but it did remind him they still had forty minutes before they’d arrive at the party. If he didn’t fill it by talking, his mouth would try to do something dumber. “So, what did you do all week?”
Chapter Eight
