Standing to get undressed, I realize I can't get my own wedding gown off. Shit. There are way too many tiny buttons I can't reach, and there is no way I'm going to get it up and over my head. I knew I should never have let Kat talk me into buying this dress. Tarzan barely even looked at me in it, anyway. I could have picked out something much simpler and easier to get off, and he never would have known any different.
"Why are you still sitting there?" He saunters out of the bathroom wearing nothing but black sweat pant shorts, his long hair damp and hanging down to the middle of his back and chest, tiny drops of water dripping down over his heavily inked and very muscular naked torso. And wow, this guy is ripped with hard, defined muscles. I've never seen so much muscle on a man in real life. Despite the hair and tats, just seeing his half-naked body and the way he flexes with each movement has my insides quivering. I cannot even imagine ever touching a body like that or having someone like him be interested or attracted to me in any way, in any realm of reality.
Tearing my eyes away from the muscular V that disappears under the waistband of his pants, I tell him I can't get the dress off.
"So I guess I hafta undress you?" He flashes that notoriously devilish grin at me and tosses his towel onto the floor.
"That would be great…if you don't mind."
He crosses the room quickly, and once he is standing next to me, I realize with my heels off, he's quite a bit taller than me. "I don't mind at all," he replies, still grinning. "Turn around."
I turn my back to him and take a deep breath. He's so close to me, his bare chest almost touching my back. Almost. I can feel the damp heat coming off his body, enveloping me in his warmth. His hands gently touch my shoulders as he bends down, his lips barely brushing against my ear, sending a shiver down my spine.
"Should I undo each button or just tear it off you." His voice is teasing but laced with raw sexiness.
He wants to play, and I think he enjoys the chase, but I'm not ready to be caught.
"I'd rather not destroy the dress… It's so pretty," I reply innocently. I have plans for the dress and its lace, buttons, and silk, my mind already outlining how I can repurpose it into at least ten different outfits and accessories.
"Good choice," he agrees. "There's a lot to unbutton… It's like unwrapping a present."
"I don't think I'm much of a gift."
His fingers work the buttons and eyelets, brushing against my flesh with each one that comes apart. "I'll be the judge of that when this dress is off you and I get you into that bed."
"Oh…" My voice catches in my throat as my heart skips, and wet heat radiates unexpectedly between my thighs. "I-I don't know if I'm ready for that yet."
"You just married me, toots. That's about as ready as we can get." Another button pops.
"I know… I just… This is a lot scarier than I thought it was going to be. I wasn't planning on you undressing me. Or going to bed together. So soon."
His hands slide a little lower down my spine. "Yeah. But here we are, alone in a hotel on our wedding night, and you've got a gown on with a thousand fucking tiny pearl buttons and I'm taking it off you. So yeah, it's a little bit of a turn-on, and I thought that was the next step."
I nod slowly. He's got me there. Unless I call the concierge for a maid to help me, my only option is to either cut this beautiful dress off, or let him take it off me. My husband. My body shudders involuntarily.
"Am I that bad?" he asks.