Buttons snapped and popped free as the sharp, harsh crackle of fabric tearing filled the chamber. The robe split along the shoulders and down the middle of her back and arms. Her mouth dropped open. “You could’ve just undone the tie.” I rocked back. “Too impatient.” “It probably would’ve taken the same amount of time,” she reasoned. “I think the robe belonged to—” “Guess what?” I shucked off my breeches faster than I ever had. “I don’t give a fuck, Poppy.”
