“Why?”
“They’re plain.”
They weren’t plain. Not at all.
“What was the deal with Linx and Bax?” she asked, pulling off bracelets and unhooking her earrings while he continued to work the buttons free.
“What do you mean?” he asked the question even though he knew precisely what she meant. Linx and Bax took their covert, unsanctioned operation seriously.
She gave him a look like she was about to call him on his bullshit, so he dodged—
“I don’t really want to tell you.” Damn, these buttons were a pain, how did she get them on in the first place? Right about now he wished this was a real honeymoon so he could pull the buttons free and then use his mouth on her until she forgot, or just didn’t care anymore, that he’d fucked up her gown.
“Youhaveto tell me.” She held the front of the bodice as he worked his way down her back. Who came up with this method of keeping clothing on a person? Whoever it was had a masochistic streak and probably hated sex.
“Why couldn’t they just use a zipper like a normal dress?” he asked, under his breath.
“Because it’s designer and not off the rack at the mall.” She shifted, moving her ass a little in his direction. “Now spill. What was up with your bandmates?”
“They mean well, they just forget to use their boundaries and good judgement sometimes.” That was the fucking truth. “That’s all.”
“What were they doing that they meant well?” She leaned her palms on the dresser, arching her back so he could have a better grasp on one of the middle buttons.
Fine, he’d tell her. It wasn’t like she couldn’t call her bestie Courtney and get the dirt from her. The guys said they were being covert, but he was fairly certain they didn’t know what that meant. Even if they were, Bax was putty in Courtney’s hands and that wasn’t going to change over a mildly important secret.
Knox put his entire focus on the buttons as he spoke. “The guys like you; they want you to stick around, they’re trying to make you permanent.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“I know, but they like the assurance that we’re married so you have to stick around.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
He shrugged. “They think we should actually do this thing for real.”
Irina stilled.
He didn’t like that. Didn’t like the feeling that by not moving she’d punched him.
“What do you mean, a real marriage?” she asked, gently and with a whole helping of caution. “We’rereallymarried. There wasrealpaperwork, and arealmarriage certificate.”
He glanced up to the mirror in front of them, her eyes held onto him in the glass. With the way her pupils dilated, and her breaths came quick?
She knew what they meant by a real marriage.
“You want arealmarriage?” she asked, still staring at mirror Knox. Speaking to him through the glass.
Real in the sense of forever? Probably not.
Real in the sense that once he got the dress off of her they could enjoy each other? Uh…he was human, and she was gorgeous.
He stopped with the buttons, instead running his palms over her shoulders, down to her elbows, and pulling her arms aside so the front of the bodice fell forward the slightest of inches.
She wasn’t bare underneath; she had some kind of lingerie there that seriously made him worry he might actually rip her dress to bust her out of the buttons.
Goosebumps trailed along her exposed skin at his touch. They echoed along his own skin as though they shared that connection already and their bodies were in sync.
“I’m not sure.” He pressed his lips to the junction where her neck met her shoulder. “Do you?”
