I grabbed a couple of paper towels and took over for her, gently wiping the moisture off the visible skin on her back. “What the hell was that Chewbacca carrying around? A bucket?”
Rosie laughed, gathered her hair in her fist, and placed it over her shoulder, revealing the back of her neck. It was long and delicate, and the sight had me wetting my lips with my tongue.
Animal, I reprimanded myself.
But I still wondered how the nape of her neck would feel under my fingers if the layer of paper disappeared. Wondered if she would shiver under my touch. Wondered what would happen if I leaned down and—
Christ.Don’t go there,Lucas.
With a silent groan, I resumed the dabbing, my hand going around her shoulder on automatic and reaching her front. I paused, fingers hovering over that spot I’d been so concentrated on tonight.
My heart leaped, that craving returning with a vengeance. That was probably why when I spotted a runaway droplet trailing down her chest, crossing the curve of her collarbone and falling dangerously close to her neckline, I didn’t even think about going for it.
I retraced the droplet’s path with the towel, slowly, delicately, watching Rosie’s pulse come alive under my touch. Taking notice of the catch in her breath.
Because I wanted—needed—to see her face, my gaze shot up and met her eyes in the mirror.
There was a question in them. Wonder. Hunger. Curiosity, too.
“Just trying to get all of it,” I told her in a low murmur, keeping my eyes on hers. “I wouldn’t want you to walk around like this and catch a cold.”
“Oh. Okay,” she breathed out. And now, I could feel her heartbeat on my fingertips, even through the thin towel. “That’s good. Really good.”
“I love being helpful,” I said, even though my hand wasn’t even moving at that moment.
Her throat bobbed. “You know, that’s not even half of it,” shesaid, her voice joining mine in the underground. “The drink somehow got inside. Through my dress. And I think my underwear might be… you know, wet.”
I swallowed so hard I even heard the sound. “You… think? You don’t know for sure?”
She shook her head.
My own imagination turned against me, flashing all kinds of images behind my eyes. Her gown sliding off her body. Rosie in her underwear. Droplets trailing down her back. Reaching the band of her panties. Falling even lower, down her thighs, and—
“I think I need to take it off,” she said, bringing me back. Sort of. But not really, because—
“Take it off? The dress?” I rasped. Or growled. I wasn’t sure.“Now?”
Rosie moved out of my reach, severing the contact, and making my hand drop to my side.
“Yes, now,” she confirmed.
I squeezed the paper towel in my fist.
Her arm flew to her back, reaching for the zipper but not stretching far enough to make it. “I’ll just—” She stretched further. “I’ll take it off and dry it under the hand dryer.” Her arm was bent at a strange angle now. “I think you can leave now, Lucas.”
Yes. No. I… I shouldn’t be here if she was going to take off her dress. Because I’d lose it. I’d pounce on her, seeing how my self-restraint was struggling tonight. I’d want to do things to her. Like—
Cold head, Lucas.
I swallowed. “Rosie?”
“Yeah?”
“How about we get you inside a stall, I unzip you, and you take it off there? Does that sound like a plan?”
She jerked to a halt. Her back returning to a natural position and her arms falling to her sides. “Okay. I think that sounds reasonable.”
“See?” I sighed, relieved but not really. “I told you I was here to help.”