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Authors: Laura Hunsaker
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ruffles on the sleeves and at the neck, thinking that it might not be too hard for her to dress herself.
But Connor still stood in front of her door, arms crossed and feet planted. Mackenzie stared at him expecting him to leave, or at least turn around, or something , but he looked immovable as a statue. She raised her eyebrows and looked at him expectantly, waiting; she refrained from tapping her foot. But his eyes dared her right back. Her eyebrows 66
snapped down in confusion, and then back up as her eyes widened and she grasped his dare.
Fine she thought, and pursed her lips. Enjoy the show .
Mackenzie slowly unzipped her shorts and stepped out of them. Her shirt slipped over her head, and she stood in her sheer white lace bra and matching bikinis. By modern standards, it wasn't that sexy, if anything it was boring in comparison to Jenna's collection. But he stiffened and she felt slightly braver. She heard his swift intake of breath and never letting her eyes drop, even as she felt the heat creep up her cheeks, she unclasped her bra, and tossed it on the floor with her shorts and shirt. Mackenzie figured she might as well go for broke, took a deep breath and slipped out of her panties.
So she stood there naked, daring Connor to look away from her eyes, to look down. And he did. Boy did he ever.
Every inch of her naked body felt touched by the heat of his gaze, as if it were his hands on her skin instead of his eyes.
Those blue eyes lingered on her belly ring, and when they dropped lower, his eyebrows shot up. She thought it might be because she had recently waxed, but couldn't be sure. Yet he never said anything, his eyes just continued down. Then once his eyes had finished their appraisal of her figure and were locked back on hers, he looked smug the jerk, she lifted the nightgown-looking garment up over her head, and tied the ribbons at her breasts in a bow. It fit snugly, emphasizing the curves it didn't hide. Covered in a modest, but sheer shift, Mackenzie felt only slightly better as she looked at the rest of what she would wear. Did the gown go on first, or the stays?
And how on earth would she ever lace herself up? Mackenzie 67
bit her lip and ventured a peek at Connor from the corner of her eyes. He was smirking at her, and much as it rankled, she didn't have a choice; she'd have to ask him for help.
"Umm...what goes next?" her hand encompassed the clothes on the bed.
His smirk became more pronounced, "Are you asking for my help?" He was making fun of her.
"I, uh, no. Of course not! I only meant that perhaps you could send Bronwyn back in. She was supposed to help me get dressed..." Mackenzie stammered out her excuse, but lost steam at the look in his eyes. He looked like he was trying not to laugh. He'd reached her in two strides.
"But I'm already here." His voice was like velvet.
Connor had spoken softly, practically purred, but Mackenzie still heard the implicit threat...or was it a promise?
Damn that man's sultry voice! She shuddered as he lifted the stays to her body, his fingers brushing her collarbones. He gripped her shoulders, turning her to face away from him, and began to tighten them. The first tug of the strings brought her back hard against him. Her eyes were wide as she turned her head to look up at him.
"Hold the bedpost." Connor was definitely amused.
Mackenzie turned and put both hands on the bedpost, bracing herself for the next pull. He was finished quickly, although his hands lingered at the small of her back.
Mackenzie pressed her hands to her ribs, just under her breasts. Every breath was much shallower than usual, since she was strapped into this corset thing. However, it wasn't as tight or uncomfortable as she'd thought it would be. It was 68
just really stiff. Connor lifted the grey gown above her head while Mackenzie brought her arms through the sleeves, and he let the gown settle around her until it fell to the floor, brushing the tops of her feet. The laces on this
But Connor still stood in front of her door, arms crossed and feet planted. Mackenzie stared at him expecting him to leave, or at least turn around, or something , but he looked immovable as a statue. She raised her eyebrows and looked at him expectantly, waiting; she refrained from tapping her foot. But his eyes dared her right back. Her eyebrows 66
snapped down in confusion, and then back up as her eyes widened and she grasped his dare.
Fine she thought, and pursed her lips. Enjoy the show .
Mackenzie slowly unzipped her shorts and stepped out of them. Her shirt slipped over her head, and she stood in her sheer white lace bra and matching bikinis. By modern standards, it wasn't that sexy, if anything it was boring in comparison to Jenna's collection. But he stiffened and she felt slightly braver. She heard his swift intake of breath and never letting her eyes drop, even as she felt the heat creep up her cheeks, she unclasped her bra, and tossed it on the floor with her shorts and shirt. Mackenzie figured she might as well go for broke, took a deep breath and slipped out of her panties.
So she stood there naked, daring Connor to look away from her eyes, to look down. And he did. Boy did he ever.
Every inch of her naked body felt touched by the heat of his gaze, as if it were his hands on her skin instead of his eyes.
Those blue eyes lingered on her belly ring, and when they dropped lower, his eyebrows shot up. She thought it might be because she had recently waxed, but couldn't be sure. Yet he never said anything, his eyes just continued down. Then once his eyes had finished their appraisal of her figure and were locked back on hers, he looked smug the jerk, she lifted the nightgown-looking garment up over her head, and tied the ribbons at her breasts in a bow. It fit snugly, emphasizing the curves it didn't hide. Covered in a modest, but sheer shift, Mackenzie felt only slightly better as she looked at the rest of what she would wear. Did the gown go on first, or the stays?
And how on earth would she ever lace herself up? Mackenzie 67
bit her lip and ventured a peek at Connor from the corner of her eyes. He was smirking at her, and much as it rankled, she didn't have a choice; she'd have to ask him for help.
"Umm...what goes next?" her hand encompassed the clothes on the bed.
His smirk became more pronounced, "Are you asking for my help?" He was making fun of her.
"I, uh, no. Of course not! I only meant that perhaps you could send Bronwyn back in. She was supposed to help me get dressed..." Mackenzie stammered out her excuse, but lost steam at the look in his eyes. He looked like he was trying not to laugh. He'd reached her in two strides.
"But I'm already here." His voice was like velvet.
Connor had spoken softly, practically purred, but Mackenzie still heard the implicit threat...or was it a promise?
Damn that man's sultry voice! She shuddered as he lifted the stays to her body, his fingers brushing her collarbones. He gripped her shoulders, turning her to face away from him, and began to tighten them. The first tug of the strings brought her back hard against him. Her eyes were wide as she turned her head to look up at him.
"Hold the bedpost." Connor was definitely amused.
Mackenzie turned and put both hands on the bedpost, bracing herself for the next pull. He was finished quickly, although his hands lingered at the small of her back.
Mackenzie pressed her hands to her ribs, just under her breasts. Every breath was much shallower than usual, since she was strapped into this corset thing. However, it wasn't as tight or uncomfortable as she'd thought it would be. It was 68
just really stiff. Connor lifted the grey gown above her head while Mackenzie brought her arms through the sleeves, and he let the gown settle around her until it fell to the floor, brushing the tops of her feet. The laces on this
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