He exhales, the breath slow and shaky, ghosting over the bare skin at my nape.
“Okay,” he says.
He keeps going.
By the time he reaches the small of my back, the bodice is loose, the fabric shifting with each inhale. I feel oddly… vulnerable. Exposed, even though I’m still technically covered.
I hold the dress against my front to keep it from gaping open and revealing my bare breasts that he would be able to see over my shoulder with his height. This dress wasn’t designed for a slipto go under it, so all I’m wearing is a white lace thong that says Bride on it. A gift from Irina that she bought at the bridal shop while we were there. Telling me that since I didn’t have a bridal shower, it was the least she could do.
When the last button slips free, I know that he can see my thong, the delicate Bride written along it. Half of my butt is uncovered from the dress in order for the dress to slip over my hips.
“I think you’re free now. Do you need any more help?” he asks.
I turn to face him keeping the fabric wrapped around me like a shield. He immediately turns his head to the side, gaze respectfully fixed on some neutral point on the wall.
“I, uh,” he says, scratching the back of his neck, “put your flowers on the table. So they don’t die. Thought you might want to keep them.”
“Thank you,” I say softly.
He smiles, just a little. “You’re welcome.”
Then I look down, and I shouldn’t have, I should have left when I had the chance. He’s hard behind him, gaping tux slacks, his boxer briefs straining to keep his erection contained.
“Oh God,” I say, knowing I didn’t think this through. “I’m sorry I looked… I…”
He glances down, but he already knows what he’s going to find.
“You don’t have to apologize for looking, but that can’t be helped. You’re gorgeous, and I just undressed my wife on our wedding night. And that thong… fuck. I wasn’t prepared for that. I probably should have been.”
For a heartbeat, neither of us moves.
The air between us is thick with everything we could say and don’t.
“It’s my fault… I shouldn’t have asked you to—”
“It’s not your fault, Katerina. Nothing has to happen between us. I have no expectation about tonight, or any night for that matter. You don’t owe me anything.”
I nod… wanting to stay but knowing I should go. Sleeping with Scottie would be one step too far on those boundaries I just told myself I would set.
“Goodnight, Scottie,” I say finally.
“Night, Kat.”
I retreat into my bedroom, closing the door gently behind me.
I lean back against it, my heart pounding.
In the silence, the day plays back in flashes—the vows, the ring, the way his hands trembled slightly as he slid it onto my finger, the feel of his lips against mine on the rooftop and again on the dance floor, the brush of his fingers down my spine, undoing each button like a secret.
I look down at my hand.
The ring glitters in the soft bedside lamplight, bright and unreal and utterly solid.
I lift my fingers to my mouth, tracing my lower lip where he kissed me twice tonight.
“What are you doing to me?” I whisper into the empty room.
I don’t know if I mean him. Or this place. Or these newfound friends.
