“See? Told you Kate’s got taste,” he said, far too smug. “Figured if I can’t see the dress, I’ll at least get to see the shoes under it before I tear the whole thing off you. Hell, tomorrow we’ll go pick lingerie to match—three sets, so I can practice ruining each one.”
My lips twitched, betraying me with a grin. “You’re impossible.”
He leant back, arms spread across the cushions with a look that was pure cocky California golden boy. “I think the word you’re looking for is irresistible.”
His gaze dipped to the box, then climbed slowly up my body until it locked on mine again. Heat darkened his eyes and the warmth between my thighs was undeniable.
“Now,” he murmured, in that lethal voice, “how about you be a good little wife and go put those on for me…onlythose.”
My thighs pressed together, instantly. “Tyler…”
He tilted his head still spotting that grin, shifting his hand over his joggers, the thick outline of him straining against the grey cotton with absolutely zero apology.
“C’mon, O. Humour me. Those heels, nothing else. I wanna see my girl in Louboutins and nothing in between.”
“Jesus,” I muttered, scooping up the box, pulse racing. “Only you could be turned on by me in a winter coat and scarf.”
His wicked laugh followed me down the hall.
“Just call me when you’re ready, baby,” he winked.
This man was going to drive me insane and he knew it.
I peeled off my clothes until I was down to my bra and panties, then slid my feet into the heels. Bloody hell, they were stunning. Silky satin wrapping my ankles, the flash of red sole each time I shifted. I felt powerful, almost dangerous.
I hooked my thumbs into my panties and pushed them down and slid off my bra, but standing there in nothing but shoes made me feel utterly ridiculous. My face flamed as I reached for the satin robe on the back of the door. At least that would make me feel less…exposed.
I’d just started to tug the sash around my waist when the door burst open.
“Woman, you’re taking too long and I’m hard as fu?—”
Tyler froze in the doorway, one hand braced on the frame, eyes dragging down my body so slowly it felt like he was touching me without moving an inch, from the heels strapped to my feet, to the bare length of my legs, to the loose gape of the robe that barely covered my nipples.
His throat worked once, then again, before he managed words.
“Holy. Shit.” It came out in a way so reverent my head was spinning.
The robe suddenly felt obscene, like the only thing separating me from being completely devoured.
“Tyler…” I whispered, self-conscious now, half a step from bolting behind the door.
His jaw flexed, his voice turned to gravel. “Don’t even think about covering up, O. You’ve got no idea what you look like right now. Fuck me.” His palm pressed flat against the frame like he needed the support. “You’re every filthy dream I’ve ever had, standing right here in our bedroom.”
Heat pooled between my legs, the feeling of being this wanted and adored taking over every inch of my insides.
He crossed the room in two strides, his hand sliding up my jaw as the other traced between my thighs. His breath caught, a low growl rumbling as he brought his lips to my throat.
“You really gonna end me over a pair of shoes?” he murmured, lips grazing my pulse. “Or is this just your way of reminding me I’ll never survive you?”
My breath hitched when his fingers slipped through the slick proof of how much I wanted him. His lips hovered just short of mine with his voice breaking rough.
“Christ, O… standing here in nothing but those heels, dripping for me like this?”
I whimpered. He caught my wrist and pulled me toward the dresser. My hips bumped the edge, and one tug on the sash had my robe falling open, sliding off my shoulders to the floor. His eyes held me there. Hunger, awe, love, all tangled into one unbearable glance.
“Up,” he said, voice hoarse.
He pushed me onto the dresser, breath shaking, my legs spread wide as he stepped between them. His sweats hung low on his hips, his body all heat and want.
