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Mrs. Bancroft grabbed my wrist, searing me with a look. “You madethisdress?”
“I did,” I stammered.
“Incredible. I meet up with Anna about once a month. We’ll have to see if you can’t join us sometime.”
The way Mrs. Bancroft saidAnna,with the round vowel, made my eyes widen. “You mean, like…Anna Wintour?”
Mrs. Bancroft nodded. “Of course, dear.”
I swallowed hard, not missing the satisfied look on Damian’s face as Mrs. Bancroft and I exchanged contact information. After the Bancrofts drifted away, Damian’s hand found the small of my back again.
“Did you eat?” he asked.
“Um,” I began, thinking about the uneaten scallops. Thinking about how hungry I was just reminded me of how I couldn’t eat, because of this damn corset. “Sort of.”
“Didn’t you like the food?” he asked, his gaze washing over the buffet tables. “I thought you’d chosen the menu. Did they mess something up?”
“Er, no, it’s just…”
His face creased with concern. “Is everything okay?”
“Yes, of course. It’s fine. I had a scallop, so—”
“Just one? That’s weird.”
I gulped. Okay, he’d spotted that there was something seriously amiss. I gnawed at my bottom lip. “Actually, uh…” I looked down, hesitant to lose this cleavage, but also desperate to take a full breath again. “Could we, uh, step out for a second?”
Damian didn’t ask twice. He led the way toward the elevator lobby. When we’d reached the cool, moodily lit space, the clamor of the Rainbow Room through the arched doorway was somehow amplified—like a living, breathing postcard.
“What’s wrong?” he asked in a low voice, stepping closer to me. He could get closer because nobody was out here observing us. We had a temporary pass, and I could feel the way his intentions had darkened. My skin prickled, expecting his hands, craving his touch.
Damian’s hands found the corseted dip of my waist, bringing me against him in a short, forceful tug. My breath evaporated. Between this corset and this man, I doubted whether I’d make it out of this night alive.
“Somebody might come out and see us,” I whispered, because I had no oxygen left.
“I don’t care,” he growled into my ear. Then he bit my earlobe, sending a jolt straight to my pussy.
I bit back a whimper, wilting against him. My breathing had quickened, which didn’t seem exactly safe. Now I understood why all those Victorian heroines were constantly gasping and fainting. They weredying, and nobody knew how to get the damn corsets off.
“Damian,” I gasped out, “I need to get this corset off. I’m dying here.”
He paused, pulling back to look me over. “What do you mean?”
“It’s so tight, and I need to change. Will you help me take it off? I’m worried I’ll mess up the beads. Getting it on was easy, but I need a second pair of eyes to make sure I don’t ruin this thing. I brought a backup dress.”
He blinked. “You want to take your dress off?”
I nodded, unable to read him fully. I couldn’t tell if he was upset or thought I was joking. “It’s too much. I thought I could last the night, but I can’t. And with the way I designed the dress, the corset needs to be fully laced in order for it to lie right on the shoulders. Oh, I really messed this one up. Let’s just call it a learning experience.”
But then his fingers curled into the softness of my hips, and I started to understand a little better. “And where are we going to take this corset off?”
“I don’t know…the nearest private room?”
His chin dipped, his gaze darkening. That predator energy was returning. “And you expect me to be able to keep myself off of you while we’re doing this?”
I laughed, wilting against him. “We can be good.”
“So you’re going to take this entire dress off, including the corset, and stand in front of me naked while you change into a different sexy dress? What is this, a test of my willpower?” He laughed, his hands seeking the base of my corset from the back of the dress. “I’m already certain I’ll fail.”
