My restless wandering led me toward the back of the store. For the first time since last week, my mind was a pleasant blank. The extremely physical work of hauling lumber had left me feeling floaty and contented. No roiling confusion, no intense sexual frustration. I felt a small measure of peace.

Peace that shattered the second a dressing room door swung open and Bit stepped out.

She froze, hands clutched around a dress that was way too big for her tiny frame. My mouth went dry. She looked… fucking edible, barefoot, her hair in a tangled disarray. I drank her in like a tumbler of the smoothest Scotch, from her painted toes all the way up to her dark, furious face.

Oh. Shit.

"Are you following me now?" she snapped, hefting that ridiculous dress up higher on chest.

"Really?" I didn't mean to laugh, but really now. "Christ, get over yourself."

"Well, why the hell would you be here?" She was talking way too damn loud.

"I'm here the same reason you are—getting a dress." And then, because I was addicted to pissing her off, it seemed, I grabbed a red slinky thing from the rack and held it up to my chest. "What, don't you think this is my color?"

Did her mouth quirk? It did, but she would never admit I had made her smile. "You don't know anything about dress shopping," she protested.

"I know enough to know that dress is hideous on you."

"What?!" God she was being so loud. If Ice Queen hadn't called the tabloids before, she was sure as hell dialing them now. Bit looked like she was going to either kill me or explode in the attempt.

"Shut up, will you?" I snapped, pushing her back into the dressing room and shutting the door behind us. "You're making a goddamn scene."

She stood there, huffing, yanking on that dress like it was a life preserver. The room itself was bigger than I had expected, with a Victorian chair in the corner that was covered in mounds of discarded dresses. The three-way mirror reflected Bit's furious face, downcast eyes, and my own bewildered expression. "What the hell is wrong with you?" I hissed.

She snapped up at me. "Why are you so mean?"

There were tears in her eyes, and my fists clenched to see her hurt, even though it was me that was causing the hurting. "Goddamn it, Bit," I shouted. "We need to sort this shit."

"Here?"

"Yes. Here." I stood against the door to block her path. She tried to duck under my arm, but I caught her up and held her as lightly as I could. Her silent struggle subsided after a moment. "Thank you," I whispered, acutely aware of the precarious way that dress was pooling around her. All I'd need to do would be to push the shoulder another inch to the left…

"You're such an asshole," she whined.

"Why do I get the feeling that you're talking about last year?" I breathed against her neck.

"It doesn't matter."

"Yeah. It does." I slid my hands to her waist and cinched in the fabric that gathered there. "Take this ridiculous thing off. It looks like a bedsheet on you."

She opened her eyes and some of that fire I loved so damn much snapped back to life. "Well, do you have any suggestions, Jaxson Dior?"

I looked around the room. "That one." I pointed to a lacy baby blue one. It was simple, almost casual, the only adornment besides the delicate lace was a simple ribbon crisscrossing its way up the back. Nothing showy. Nothing to overpower her incredible, natural beauty.

"Close your eyes."

"Hell no."

"Then at least look away?"

"Oh, you want me to pretend I haven't seen all this already?"

"Yes," she hissed fiercely.

I turned my back. "Never say I'm not a complete gentleman."

"You're not a complete gentleman," she whispered. I could hear the rasp of fabric against her skin, and it took all of my strength not to turn and catch her in the act. The image of the watery silk running down her naked back made it hard to focus on our argument. "There, is this better?"

I turned back to her and my jaw dropped. "Fuck yeah, it is."

Chapter Thirty-One

Liliana

Any promises I made to myself went out the window the minute I saw him. Fifteen minutes ago I was licking my wounds, remembering my heartbreak at his hands in vivid, teary detail. Then he showed up out of nowhere. And try as I might to hold on to that sadness, it flew away the moment his hand brushed my skin.

"Now that's a dress," Jax said, his voice tight and raspy. Without breaking eye contact, he slipped his hand under the skirt and placed it deliberately on my hip.

Then waited.

He was waiting for me to tell him to stop. Tell him to go away. He was waiting for me to scream and carry on like the harpy I seemed to have turned into. He was waiting to see if it was okay.

It was.

It was more than okay. The tightness that gathered in my core the instant he touched me made it much, much better than just okay.

Without meaning to, I inhaled sharply, drawing his scent up in one breath. That inimitable warmth was so intense I could taste it on my tongue.

As if mirroring me, Jax sucked in his own breath, smoothing his palm around my hip to cup my ass. When I didn't pull away, he pulled me to him, his thigh against mine.

I was face to face with his collarbone, watching his chest rise and fall in short, controlled bursts. The pulse at his neck beat strongly, slightly elevated, mirroring my own. I was suddenly very aware of how loudly my heart beat in my ears.

He trailed his hands up from my ass, sliding over my waist as he traversed the length of my torso. I closed my eyes.

"What are you thinking?" he whispered.

"I don't know," I said. Jax brushed his thumb casually over my nipple, which immediately tightened. Hate and disgust bubbled upward inside of me, only to be drowned by a flood of lust. "I'm trying to figure that out."

He slid his hands higher until they cupped my face. He tilted my head up to his. "Does this help?" he whispered.

My body knew. Goddamn my traitorous, Benedict Arnold of a body. It knew exactly how it felt to be kissed by Jaxson, and the craving he ignited had never fucking left. It just lay dormant until now. The moment that his lips met mine, it would ruin any chance I had of making it through the rest of this visit unscathed.

The last vestige of my rational mind tried to assert itself. "Jax, you're going to be my brother," I half-moaned, half-chided. "We can't do this."

"How about this. Can I do this?" He slid his hand downward, snaking his fingers up my thigh, shoving my legs apart roughly.

"You shouldn't," I whimpered.

"That's not a no," he growled.

Jax slipped a finger inside of me. "Yes," I moaned.

"Holy hell, Lily, you're wet already." He pulled his finger free and I moaned and arched against him in protest. He popped his sopping digit into his mouth and sucked quietly for a moment. "Fuck, now I'm really hungry," he said, licking his finger clean. "You've been hiding that sweet pussy of yours from me for days now, and I've worked up quite an appetite."

He reached up and yanked my panties down with a savage jerk. When he sank to his knees and pressed my back against the wall, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror, and I barely recognized the woman I saw. I looked wild, breathless, completely out of control. His biceps popped as he gripped my ass cheeks and lifted my legs over his shoulders.