“You aren’t a bow tie guy.”
He shook his head, letting me tie it.
“How do you know how to do that? Have you done it for many other men?”
I laughed, totally hearing the slight shade of jealously in his words. “I played a part on stage where I had to tie one every night for four months. I can do this in my sleep now. Good to know you don’t like the idea of me doing this for any other man.” I finished my task.
He made some noise that was part-caveman and glanced at himself in the mirror. He looked delicious. I was ready to undo those pants and rediscover what was inside, but that would involve getting out of this dress, and I wasn’t sure that was possible without a pair of scissors.
“I’m not used to stuff like this.”
I nodded, chancing it and sitting down on the edge of the very big bed. My dress didn’t split which did prompt a sigh of relief, not that I could sigh much. It was tight. So very tight.
I was pretty sure Ryan had said those words shortly after we’d checked into the room.
“I know. I really appreciate you coming. You really didn’t have to.” I hadn’t actually asked him. He had a match in two days, he’d trained this morning and then come straight down to London, all because he’d wanted to show his support. Rhys had been in touch with the gentleman’s outfitters he was the face of, and they’d sorted out a tux two days ago. The premiere ticked a lot of publicity boxes for both of us, meaning Jas and Rhys were especially happy right now.
And I got to see Ryan in a tux.
“I know I didn’t have to. You look amazing, by the way. Delicious.” His smile was genuine now.
I gave him my frowny face. “You don’t need to tease me about how much I say that word.” He’d spent at least ten minutes the other day hunting out and sending me every GIF and meme he could find with the word ‘delicious’.
“There’s only one thing in this room that’s delicious and I’m looking at her. Come here.” He offered me his hand to help me up. “I’m going to take what I can get of you in private before everyone’s claiming a piece of you.”
I wrapped my arms around his neck. Even in impossibly high heels, I only came up to his chin, something that made me feel delicate and oh so feminine.
“Can I kiss you with your make-up all done?” His words were murmured, sending shivers across my skin.
“You can kiss me anytime you want, hotshot striker.” He’d earned that nickname. A hat-trick on Sunday had earned him various accolades and I’d read a rumour that Real Madrid were looking to sign him next season. When I’d asked him about it, he laughed and showed me some of the photos from the work that had started on his new property.
He wasn’t leaving the north-west of England any time soon.
“Wasn’t sure if I was allowed when you’re made up all fancy.” His finger tipped up my chin and he pressed a kiss gently to my lips. “Afterwards I’ll kiss you properly. And somehow I’ll get you out of that dress.”
“I’ll ask the hotel staff to make sure we have scissors handy.” Because that was the only way I was escaping this tortuous outfit. I’d worn corsets and waist trainers (which should be banned) but this dress was possibly the work of the devilest of devils.
His grin was wickedly sinful. It made me feel as if I was about to be eaten in the best possible way.
“I won’t have any problem getting you out of it, Otillie.” He nudged the strap from off one of my shoulders and pressed a kiss to the skin there.
I waited for him to look back up then gave him a wink. “I quite like the idea of you keeping that suit on.”
I loved his smile. It was knowing and confident and teasing at the same time. I’d never known a man before who was so comfortable in his own skin, and I’d wondered if that was what I found most attractive about him. But then there were so many other things.
I didn’t want to go to New York. I wanted to stay here, because I didn’t think the foundations of our series of hook-ups was going to be enough right now. The timing wasn’t right and timing was everything.
“Whatever it takes to make you smile like that.”
I caught sight of myself in the mirror, dressed up to the nines, make-up as good as it had ever been, but I didn’t see that. I saw the version of me that had fallen head over heels and then backflipped in love.
I had never felt more vulnerable.
Ryan turned around, standing behind me and looking at both of us in the mirror. My fair hair was loose, long and straight down my back, contrasting wildly with his almost black hair and swarthy skin that reminded me of a pirate. His broad shoulders and height made me look tinier than I was, his arm around me possessive and everything I wanted in that moment.
“This could be the premiere of the film that wins you your first Oscar.” His words were low. “And I get to be there.”
I nodded, lifting my chin and owning the moment, because I’d be damned if it owned me.
