Those eyes said everything I needed to know. I’m wearing what you picked out and I liked that you picked for me, but if you dare to tease me about it, I will kill you in your sleep. Sexy. As. Hell. My cock clearly agreed, because it was struggling to free itself from my slacks at the moment.

I looked at the table where I’d laid out the pink thong beside the dress she was wearing. The thong wasn’t there anymore, and I had a very good guess about where it wound up. Picturing her in it beneath that figure-hugging dress made me so hard it hurt.

“You look fantastic,” I said.

“Nobody’s here. You don’t have to pretend.”

“Who said I was pretending? You really look great.”

She eyed me, probably trying to make sure I wasn’t fucking with her. Finally, she gave the slightest shadow of a smile. “Thank you. I was going to wear this anyway, so don’t go patting yourself on the back too hard.”

Sure you were. “Wouldn’t dream of it. Do you want help with that?” I pointed. The zipper in the back of her dress was still a quarter undone beneath the open back below her shoulder blades.

“Fine.”

I approached and stepped inside her space. I could smell her scent. I picked up something like vanilla and a flowery undertone. It was intoxicating, and I took a deep, greedy breath through my nose for more. Just because I couldn’t help myself, I put one hand on her side and then reached for the zipper, tugging it up with playful slowness.

I watched the bare skin of her back break out in goosebumps as I dragged the zipper upward. I brushed some loose hairs away from her neck and turned her to face me by the shoulders. She looked up at me, the whites of her eyes clearly visible around the blue pools of her iris’.

“What are you doing, Dean?”

“Well, first I was zipping up your dress like you asked. Then I was just getting a better look at you. What kind of boyfriend would I look like if we showed up together and I’d missed something. Like that eyelash.” I tapped the pad of my thumb to my tongue and cupped her face, carefully pressing the wet spot on my thumb to a loose eyelash that had landed on her cheek. I collected it, examined it, and held it out to her. “Make a wish.”

“What?”

“It’s what you do when you get a loose eyelash. Go ahead. Make one.”

She stared up at me, eyes flickering with mischief. “I wish you would behave.”

I studied the eyelash, waiting to see if I felt its power come over me. Then I shrugged and brushed it off on my pants. “Nope. Didn’t work, sorry.”

She folded her arms. “Funny.”

I gave her another look over and tucked more loose hairs behind her ear. “See? What would you do without me.”

“Probably stop feeling like I was going to have a heart attack.”