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I hesitate for a moment, unsure whether to take his offer or struggle through the task on my own.
Maybe I can cut open my dress?
But I don’t want to ruin one of my favorite Rodarte pieces. Especially when all I want to do with this thing is put it behind glass and frame it in my closet so I can remember today forever.
I groan loudly.
“Molly?” Matthew’s voice is filled with concern.
Despite my reservations, I want to go farther with him. It’ll probably make everything between us so messy. But my life’s always been complicated.
What’s one more thing to add to the list?
I inhale, channeling every ounce of bravery.
“Actually, I’ve changed my mind.” I swing open the door.
“What can I do?”
“I need to get my dress off,” I say confidently.
“Your dress?” He hovers in the doorway. I walk closer to the tub, turn off the water, and add in a dollop of bubble bath.
“Well, I…I don’t think I can bathe with it on,” I whisper.
“Of course not.” His gaze is enveloped in darkness, the way it has been each time we’ve kissed. “Turn around for me, please.”
Doing as he says, I face the bathroom mirror. He stands behind me with a hesitant gentleness. I can practically taste the blood beating in my heart.
A part of me wishes he’d snap.
Could I even make a man like him lose control?
In the reflection of the mirror, I watch as his fingers brush across the nape of my neck, gathering all my hair and moving it to the side. The sensation is electric. My core thrums with need, warm and seething.
“Is this alright?”
“Mhm.” I nod.
My breath hitches when he tugs down the zipper of my dress. My vertebrae tremble.
His movements are slow and deliberate, as if he’s savoring it. He slides the sleeves off my shoulders, and I suck in a breath.
The cotton is flimsy beneath his strong hands; the dress barely holds on to me. With the small movement of my inhale, it collapses to the tile floor.
Matthew lets out a heavy sigh and politely averts his gaze from the mirror. But I have no interest in him being a gentleman tonight.
No. Whatever has suddenly possessed me, I want him to do what he promised.
Because if I were in their shoes, I’d work tirelessly to show you colors you’d only see while you’re with me.
I want to see the kaleidoscope of hues only he can show me.
“Matthew?” I say with a trembling voice. His eyes catch mine in the mirror. He looks primal. Predatory, almost. Then his focus slips onto the red, lacy lingerie still hugging my curves. Maybe it wasn’t so bad that all my favorite pieces ended up in my suitcase.
“Yes, darling?” His tone is low and strained.
“I…I think I’m also going to need some help washing my hair.”
