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“Uh-huh.”
“Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, it was a misunderstanding. We cleared it up.”
Now I know what took RJ so long. Guess he didn’t want to tell me just how close to shit hitting the fan he got.
“Well, I’m fine, so now you can leave.”
“Okay. Do you need help getting out of your dress?”
Holy shit, I don’t like that offer. Not one bit. I almost come out of my hiding spot to tell him I’m the only one getting her out of her dress when she says, “No, thanks.”
“Okay. Well, then I guess I’ll go. Good night.”
“Good night,” Lyla responds. The door opens and then closes again. I hear her turn several locks.
“Who was that?” I ask when she walks back around the corner that I’m leaning on.
“One of my dad’s guys. He’s a newly patched member of the Devil Hounds and my date to the wedding. I left without telling him.”
“Your date?” I repeat.
She rolls her green eyes. “He was ordered to take me, but he’s not interested in me.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because he told me so. And that’s fine with me.”
I’m not sure why I care if she had a date to her sister’s wedding or why I’m relieved that there’s nothing going on between them. But I feel a little drunk on jealousy and find myself doing the opposite of what I just mentally promised myself.
“Turn around.”
Lyla’s lips part as if to ask why before her gaze skims down my bare chest. Her cheeks are flushed when she dutifully turns around.
I lift up her hair this time before she can. Running my fingers through the thick, soft red waves, I gather them up like a man usually does when a woman’s mouth is on him.
Holding her hair up with my left hand, I start unzipping her dress with the right. I was still half-hard from before, and I’m suddenly at full mast again.
This, helping a woman out of her dress, is as close to sex as I’ve had in years. I savor every slow, descending inch, going a little lower than the first time, just above her panty line where the zipper ends. Her entire back is exposed to me. The lace of her white bra is sexy and alluring as hell.
As if reading my mind, knowing how hot undressing her has me, Lyla says softly, “You can undo my bra too…if you want.”
God, yes.
I don’t have to be told twice. I let her hair down to use both hands on either side of the hook to unlatch the three prongs. Before the sides part, Lyla shivers at the brush of my knuckles on her skin. She tries to hide it by grabbing up her hair again with both hands.
“My necklace’s clasp?”
Now she’s just taunting me.
But I can’t resist reaching for the thin, silver chain. I have to spin it around her neck to find the clasp on it. It takes my big fingers longer than it should to get it done.
As soon as it’s released, the chain starts sliding down her chest before I reach around to lay my hand on it, catching it since her hands are holding her hair. The move puts the front ofmy body flush with Lyla’s backside. My bare chest to her bare back. The kind of skin-to-skin contact I forgot I even missed.
“Oh,” she says in surprise, either from the feel of my slick skin or because she feels me, long and hard, as she drops her hair. “You’re still…”
Looks like it was the second one.
