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.
"No, just…not quite what I was expecting."
"You're not what I was expecting either."
His fingers slowly work the dress farther down, past the middle of my spine, and I try to force myself to relax. The team picked him for me. They wouldn't put me with someone who would hurt me or force himself on me. They trusted him, so there's no reason I shouldn't.
He unclasps a few more buttons and the fabric at my lower back separates.
"Now, this is exactly what I like," he whispers. "A slow, tantalizing reveal…like a surprise."
Christ. I don't know if I should feel creeped out or cherished right now.
His hands are warm against my exposed skin as the final part of my satin security is undone at the base of my spine, and I panic, feeling way too exposed and vulnerable. I'm not ready to be undressed in front of him, especially knowing I'm not what he wanted.
Clutching the gown against the front of me, I step away from him and turn to meet his burning eyes.
"What's wrong?" he asks.
"I'm just not ready for this…"
His eyes flash darker as he steps closer to me and grabs the material of my gown. "I want to see you. Stop hiding."
"No."
"No?"
"No."
"Do you have anything on under that gown?"
"Yes, of course." Heat rises to my cheeks.
"Then what are you hiding for? Let me see." He tries to tug the material away from me again, but I hold on to it for dear life.
Shaking my head in frustration, I try to move away from him, but instead, trip over all the endless white fabric pooled at my feet. He catches me effortlessly and holds me against his bare chest.
"Very slick," I say, trying to pull away from him, but his arm snaked around my waist doesn't let me go.
"I am. Very." His eyes roam down my body and take in what I've got on beneath the gown. "Holy shit, you're wearing a gardener belt and fuckin' thigh highs." He lets out a low whistle. "Very nice."
"It's a garter belt, actually."
"That's what I said. And what the hell did you wear all this sexy stuff for if you don't want me touching you? Don't tell me those morons set me up with a tease."
"I'm not a tease! The girl at the bridal store talked me into all this. She said it's what women wear under wedding gowns. How would I know? I've never done this before."
"Exactly! You're supposed to be wearing that for me. It's our wedding night. We're supposed to commiserate."
I stifle a giggle. "Consummate. And, sorry for the disappointment, but we're not."
"What does that mean?"
"I'm sorry." I try to squirm away from him, but he's not budging with his hold on me. "I'm just not ready for this. This is too fast to do with a stranger. Married or not. I don't just jump into bed with people. I need some time to get used to you, and get to know you…be attracted to you." At that, he drops his hold on me as if I've burned him, and I almost fall over.
"Wait a minute," he says. "You're not attracted to me?"
"You're not really my type or what I pictured."
He scoffs and shakes his wet hair, flinging drops of water onto me. "All women are attracted to me, babe. I've never met one who wasn't."
"Surprise." I let out a little laugh. "You just married one, unfortunately. I'm not into the long hair and tattoos. At all."
He crosses his arms over his inked chest. "That's fuckin' great. I'm not about to get out a cheese grater and scrape all my ink off, honey. So you're gonna have to get into it."
"Don't be ridiculous." Carefully stepping out of the dress at my feet, I head for the closet near the door, feeling his eyes on me every step of the way. I yank one of the thick robes off its hanger and quickly pull it on.
"I definitely see implants in our future, so I guess we're even, then."
"Implants?" I repeat, confused. "What are you talking about?"
"I'm a boob man. And you're definitely lacking in that department."
My mouth falls open. "Oh, hell no. I am not altering my body for you."
Flopping down onto the couch, he runs his hands through his long, wet hair. "Lemme get this straight. You hate to travel, you got no tits, you're short, you hate long hair and tattoos, you probably hate my music, and you're not attracted to me. At all."
"Yeah. That about sums this up. Actually, I do like your music, from what I remember."
"What the fuck did we answer all those questions for? I asked for a hot, tall, sexy as fuck blond with big tits who loves to travel." He points to me. "Instead, I get a flat dwarf who can barely look me in the eye, doesn't want me to touch her, and won't get on a plane."
I fight back the tears burning my eyes. "Yeah, and I asked for a clean-cut, good-looking, sweet, intelligent, hard-working family man. Instead, I got inked-up Tarzan."
"We got fucked. Hard."
"Do you think they made a mistake?" I suggest hopefully. "Maybe put us with the wrong partner? There are other couples in the project."
He thinks about this for a few moments while chewing his lip. "I dunno. Both our names are on that card. It would be hard to confuse us with other people; we both have very unique names. Seems like the only damn thing we do have in common."
Sitting next to him on the couch, I pull my legs up and hug my knees to my chest. "I don't understand any of this. What were they thinking?"
"I have no fucking idea, but I'm gonna find out."
"How exactly are you going to do that? It's after midnight."
Grabbing his cell phone, he pushes a button. "My mom's part of the project team. I'll get some answers out of her."
"What?! Your mom?" How is his mother involved? Isn't that a conflict of interest of some sort?
As he paces the floor waiting for the call to connect, I silently pray this is all a mistake and my real husband is somewhere nearby and will come save me. Then hopefully, Talon will get his correct wife, and we can all walk away from this happy.
Chapter 9
Talon
"Sweetheart, you better have a good reason for calling me on your wedding night. Shouldn't you be occupied right now?"