Enemy Beloved

14 | perfectly tied

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V A U G H N

Leaning against the wall, I observe Claire as she struggles to pull the zipper of her dress up. Both of her hands are on her back in an awkward manner as she tries to find the zipper she lost midway. She groans when she doesn't find it for the fifth time. For someone who was born flexible, Claire Jackson surely needs a pair of eyes behind her head.

The midnight blue dress reaches just above her knees and the material sticks to her curves like a second skin. I can't help but trail my eyes up her long legs and wonder for a second what she would look like with nothing on.

"You sure you don't need any help with that?" I ask.

"I'm fine. I can manage," she replies, turning to a side as she studies herself in the mirror.

"You've been saying that for the past fifteen minutes." I glance at my watch. "I'm standing right here. You can ask me."

"I'm not taking your help, Jackson," she scowls at herself in the mirror attached to the interior of the cupboard. "I'm not stupid. I can do it myself."

Sighing, I stride towards her. If we go on this way then we will probably be standing here for another hour. She gets alerted of my movements and instantly turns to press herself against the mirror.

"Let me help, Claire," I say. "I promise I won't move my hand to other...territories."

I move my eyes down her legs again, involuntarily.

Bad timing, dickhead!

"I don't trust that after the stunt you pulled moments ago," she huffs.

"That was just to annoy you." I shrug. "And if I remember correctly, you seemed very interested to flirt with me too."

"No, I didn't!" Her mouth opens and without seeing any other option, I grab her elbow and turn her around so that her back is facing me.

My fingers move to her zip and I give a tug but it doesn't move. Taking a closer look, I notice that it is stuck to a thread of the dress.

"Hmm...Claire?"

"What? What did you do?" she asks in a panicky voice. "Did you ruin my dress? See, that's the reason I didn't want your help. It's my favorite dress!"

Women have strange priorities.

"No, it's stuck." I give a little pull at the zipper to prove my point. "I can help you but I want you to promise you won't slap me."

"What are you going to do?"

"I can't tell you. Just promise me you won't freak out."

Silence follows my words until Claire chooses to break it. "Hm...okay."

Hesitantly, I lean down and grab the zipper between my teeth, my lips brushing against her back.

Holy Hell she smells good!

I feel her muscles tense under my touch and have to close my eyes to prevent an oncoming boner to get the best of me. I pull at the tiny zipper with my teeth, placing a hand over Claire's shoulder to stop her from trembling. The zipper releases itself from the thread.

I pull away quickly and slide the zipper all the way up.

"It's done," I pronounce, my voice unnecessarily raspy and Claire turns quickly.

Another bad move because her body collides with mine and I have to hold her by her hips for balance. I suck in a breath while she looks at me and does the same. Our eyes don't leave each other as I look at her red lips. I recall the way she tasted at the wedding and the feeling irritates me.