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He shuts me up by tracing a finger down the base of my spine, right beside the hundred ivory buttons. The pot in my hand trembles as his hot breath hits the back of my neck. My skin prickles in response, and I place the pot down in order to hide the way my hands shake from his proximity.
He starts with the top button, only to fumble. His frustrated grunt makes me laugh.
“You think this is funny?”
I giggle again as he slips again.
“My hands are too big.”
I roll my eyes. “Of course they are.”
“I’m not joking.”
I shoot him a glare over my shoulder. “Well, we need to figure it out because I can’t sleep in this.”
“What if I cut you out of it?”
“No!” The gown cost fifty-thousand dollars. I can’t imagine ruining it just because Declan and his hulk-like hands can’t manage some measly buttons.
He sighs as he tries one last time and fails. “Scissors or a knife?”
“You’re joking.”
“Would you prefer I rip it apart?”
“Absolutely not!” I push back, forcing him to give me some room. “I’ll be back.”
I head to my bedroom, open a box labeledgardening supplies, and pull out a pair of shears. They still have a little bit of dirt on them, but it doesn’t matter. It’s not like I’ll be wearing this dress ever again, although the option to donate it is not completely off the table.
“Stupid Declan and his massive paws for hands,” I grumble under my breath as I walk back into his room.
“Here.” I shove the shears against his chest.
He looks down at them. “This is not how I expected tonight would go.”
“Disappointed?”
“Amused.”
Our eyes lock, and something passes between us. One look sends sparks across my skin and my heart into cardiac arrest. It’s as if our outburst in the garage never happened. While I want to be annoyed at myself, I can’t help it when it comes to him. He might be an asshole, but I knew what I was signing up for when I married him.
“Get on with it.” I turn again and hold on to my hair before he has a chance to move it for me. The less contact we have, the better. I’m already feeling weak tonight as it is.
He grips onto the lace collar of my dress. “Don’t move an inch.” The cold brush of metal against the base of my neck has me sucking in a breath.
I wouldn’t dare. Not with the way my legs are threatening to give out at any moment.
The sound of shears cutting through lace sends another round of goosebumps across my arms. Chilly air hits the skin at the top of my spine, and I press the front of my dress against my chest to prevent it from falling at my feet.
Declan cuts through the fabric slower than necessary, and the blunt side of the shears brushes my back with each snip.
“Almost done.” His voice is far huskier than usual.
With a few last cuts, my entire back is on display for him. He chucks the shears on the bed once the job is done. Neither one of us moves, and my anxiety grows with each second that passes. I look over my shoulder to find him staring at my bare back like a puzzle he can’t solve.
“Thanks.” I attempt to take a step away from him, only to stop when his hand reaches out and skates across my spine. My heart pounds against my chest, threatening to jump out as he stops right above my lacy thong. Lust slams into me like a fist to the face. I can’t help choking on my gasp as he traces the edge of my underwear. His fingers brush across my goosebumps, and I suck in a deep breath.
He tugs, and a white long string snaps. “This was bothering me.”
