AllFreeNovel
Share Us
When the MC announces that the bride and groom will be tossing the garter and bouquet, Foster indicates that it’s time for us to go. We quickly say our cordial good-byes to his parents and a few of his friends, and then we hastily make our way out of the reception hall, stop by the front desk to get the key to our room, and then continue toward the guest room section of the resort.
The elevator opens on the third floor, and we bank two lefts around beige corners before coming to our room for the first time. Foster uses the key card to unlock the door and then opens it, allowing me to enter first. I flip on the light and see our luggage sitting on one of the beds, as promised. Also, as promised, our room has two double beds—one for Foster and one for myself.
I slip out of my jacket, hang it in the nearby hall closet, and then proceed to pick up my bag, moving it to the adjacent bed near the window.
“I guess I’ll take this one,” I proclaim, stepping out of my nude heels.
“That’s fine,” Foster says as he hangs his suit jacket in the closet. Then, he approaches me while loosening the cobalt tie. “Whatever makes you the most comfortable.”
“Well, if this were a few weeks ago, I’d probably say that I’d be more comfortable if you were in bed with me,” I tease with one hundred percent truth behind the sarcasm. “But this will do.”
“Of course it will.”
He slides the tie out from the confines of his shirt collar and sets it on his bed. Then, like I’m not even there, Foster begins to unbutton his pressed dress shirt from the neck down. When he releases the last one at the bottom of the white garment and is in the process of pulling his arms from the sleeves, I unzip my bag and hurriedly gather my pajamas.
“I’m going to clean up and change,” I announce, heading toward the bathroom and away from temptation.
Seeing him with his clothes off is nothing new, but not to be able to touch him is something I’m not equipped for, and it’s best to remove myself from the situation.
I shut the bathroom door at my back with my heart racing faster than it should be.
Chandra was right. Coming here with Foster for a wedding was a bad idea. It’s not because of what might happen or what usually happens at weddings—a night laced with alcohol, bad decisions, and regrets—but because of what won’t happen. There will not be any stolen kisses, gentle caresses, or any good old-fashioned sweat-rolling-off-the-back boinking.
I won’t be that lucky.
At the vanity, I place my change of clothes on the counter and then begin to unpin my hair, allowing it to drape down the length of my back. I then wash my face, removing the superficial cover of beauty from my skin.
Reaching behind my back, I attempt to pull down the zipper of my dress, but I fail miserably, unable to get the proper leverage.
I try again.
And again.
Ugh.
Resolved to needing assistance, I quietly crack open the door and spy Foster pacing about the room in a T-shirt and boxers, staring at the floor and muttering to himself.
“Foster?”
His head quickly snaps in my direction, startled. “Yeah?”
“Do you think you could help me get out of my dress? Zipper issues.”
“Sure.”
I widen the door and turn around, sweeping the loose wavy locks over my shoulder so that he has better access to the problem area. Placing a firm but gentle hand on the bare skin of my neck, Foster traces the line of my back, pausing at the crest of my garment. With great restraint, I demand my body to remain still as he pulls the zipper down the length of my spine until it reaches its end just below the small of my back.
Peeking over my shoulder, I tell him, “Thanks.”
He lifts his gaze from where his hands rest near my waist, meeting my own with an open vulnerability. I’ve seen that look before. It’s usually fleeting, showing up during a few of the art sessions where he was my subject.
“You’re welcome,” he replies, stepping backward. He continues to hold me hostage with a myriad of sentiments fluxing in and out of his gaze.
I’m susceptible to all of them pulling me in.
I’m ill-prepared for this night.
I’m not in control of my emotions.
