Red Dress

If I could thank Regina for anything, it would be the locking bedroom door—the one Jefferson was currently hovering on the other side of, madly rattling the knob. I ignored him as I paced the floor in an uneven line, wearing marks in the carpet as I desperately tugged at the little red dress.

"Just let me see, Kitten," Jefferson purred, his voice thick with something that weighed my belly with desire.

"No," I shot back, a little pitchy. I thumbed through my closet, my fingers catching on the hangers of dresses that would've been considered scanty when it was turrets and moats that contained me. In the modern world, they were modest—old-fashioned, if you asked Emma, who I had to thank for the crimson strip of fabric I barely squeezed into.

Unfortunately for me, I was about three inches taller than Emma and as many sizes bigger. The flirty party dress that flattered her perfectly rode dangerously high on my thighs and barely covered the curve of my bottom. Abandoning the closet, I hopped and strained my way to the dresser. I poured through the drawers for a sensible pair of tights to offset my fully-bared legs, but turned up nothing but the knee-highs I favored.

I pressed shut the drawers, pretending I couldn't hear Jefferson's alternating chorus of my true and cursed names as he wriggled the doorknob impatiently. I considered myself in our bedroom mirror, frowning at the way the dress hiked higher every time I moved. There was definitely, absolutely, positively no way I would ever—

A rhythmic series of clicks and twists caused my body to stale as I jerked toward the door. Of course, what good were locks when you loved a thief?

A sharp hiss of "Jefferson, don't," was my warning shot as the door flew open. His mouth fell open as he stared at me, and I felt a burn in my cheeks as they turned redder than the dress I'd squeezed myself into. Jefferson closed his mouth with an audible pop of his lips, and the sound caused a pleasant shudder to slink down my spine.

"Damn," he mumbled, lumbering in my direction. I dropped my eyes and hugged my waist. One of Jefferson's hands climbed over the slinky red fabric; the other caught my chin, pulling my face up to his. There was a hint of madness in his eyes, making me weak as they fixated on mine. I felt my knees begin to tremble as he brought his lips to my ear and whispered, "Don't hide from me, Kitten."

"Jefferson," I mumbled, my breath tripping over the syllables. "I look—"

"Hot as hell," Jefferson cut me off, bunching the red cloth in his hand, pressing lightly into me. He shoved my dark hair from my neck and buried his face there, his tongue flicking across my skin. The noise that issued from my lips was inhuman as he left lopsided kisses across my collarbone, whispering his possession as the skin began to pinken.

Jefferson backed me into our bedroom wall, hiking my legs around his waist as the dress hem rode up the curve of my hips. His easy strength surprised me, and the weightless feeling made me gasp. The heels I hadn't bothered to strap fell from my feet with a soft thud as my ankles crossed over his backside.

"I love you," I breathed, working my fingers through his hair, just long enough for me to give a soft tug. Jefferson made a sound that nearly made me come undone, and I gasped into his mouth as he crushed his lips to mine.

"I love you more, my Alice," Jefferson whispered between our labored breaths, his forehead bobbing against mine as a dragging second passed, our need for one another filling up the air. "We'll go dancing later," he decided quickly, lifting me fully into his embrace and carrying me to our bed.