The authentically made pieces, whether from a historical time period or lovingly sewn by modern hands, each told a story in a way that contemporary garments couldn’t match.
Dresses like the one in my hand didn’t just make their marks in the fashion world. They influenced furniture, interior design, and even architecture that had to accommodate the impossibly wide skirts.
God, I could have spent hours inspecting every item on that costume rack, but I had to pull back on my impulses and remind myself of the task at hand.
“I’m going to change clothes on the other side of this rack,” I said, knowing the row of costumes would give me some semblance of privacy while I stripped. “No peeking.”
“Damn,” Micah winked as I carried my dress past him. “No peeking at all?”
“Not unless I get to do the same,” I shrugged.
He shot Axel a mischievous glance and then turned back to me before I made it around to the other side of the clothing rack. “We’re all friends here, right? You can peek if you want to.”
I rolled my eyes but couldn’t stop myself from taking one quick glance back over my shoulder as he peeled his own soaked shirt off and tossed it aside.
From the corner of my eye, I saw Axel doing the same thing, and God, it was all I could do to keep from turning to stare at him.
Seriously, they were both hot enough that I could hardly be blamed for watching. Or at least not for wanting to watch.
And I fully believed that they would have happily let me. But I wasn’t sure if I would have been content with only a single peek.
With another supreme use of my willpower, I tore my gaze away and concentrated on getting out of my clothes. I wasn’t sure if the men were actually watching me or not, but the mere suggestion that they might was enough to send a rush of heat through my body—a sensation that wasn’t helped by the fact that I’d planned on going without my bra and panties under the costume.
When that rough, cheap fabric brushed against my already-sensitive skin, it was all I could do to keep from moaning out loud. Which, God, would not have been ideal since every noise we made in the huge warehouse seemed to be amplified as we finished changing clothes.
At least I was covered again for the most part. “Would one of you help me with this zipper?” I asked, still not turning around as I reached behind me and pointed to my exposed back. “It’s going to be a little tight, but I think it should work.”
“I can help,” Micah answered.
“I can... also help,” Axel said. I could hear the grin in his voice even without turning to see it on his face. “Just in case you need an extra set of hands.”
And oh, God. Had he meant to sound sexy, or did I just hear him that way?
I bit down on my lip as Micah’s hands brushed against my bare lower back. He was so close to me that the heat from his body warmed mine. And his breath on my shoulder made me shudder as he leaned in to fumble with the tiny zipper. “This one? How are you even supposed to get this thing up?”
“Carefully,” Axel said from my other side. He was close, too. “Very carefully.”
Axel’s hand held my waist as Micah slowly started to zip me up. I didn’t dare to speak—too afraid of what I might say, or I might sound like. That my breathy squeezing voice might reveal too much. Afraid that I’d tell them to forget about the zipper and just keep touching me with their warm, strong hands.
Lord, it had been too long since I’d had sex. That had to be the problem. I was horny, and it clouded my judgment. That was the only excuse I had for the way I felt.
Micah’s hands stopped halfway up my back. “I, uh, think it might be stuck.”
I reached back, but all I felt were their hands. I turned just enough to look over my shoulder, and yeah, that was a mistake.
Or maybe it wasn’t. Micah’s face was there, right in front of mine, and it was simply too tempting. He leaned a little closer, and my lips parted on their own as I fully turned around to face him and Axel at the same time.
“Jesus,” Axel said under his breath. “You’re so beautiful, Jasmine.”
The way they both looked at me made me feel beautiful, even though I was pretty sure I looked like one hot mess with my damp, hair a complete rat’s nest, and my half-on, half-off costume.
Those things didn’t matter when they looked at me. And when Micah’s lips brushed against mine, I knew there was no turning back. I might not have been able to admit it—not even to myself—but I wanted him. I wanted both of them.