He waited outside and leaned against the wall by the door, taking advantage of the quiet moment.
Under the sounds of the crowd, the music, the chatter, he heard her shuffling and cussing. Then she laughed riotously. A half second later, the door jerked open a few inches. “Ryder?” she hissed.
“I’m here,” he said, turning and seeing things had not improved.
Zoe held the door with one arm, her other braced over her chest, all four boobs still present, and one delicate strap of her dress had snapped, the end sticking out like a stray wire. “I, um… little problem here.”
“Um… what can I do?” he asked helplessly. “Do you want my shirt?”
“Yes please. I didn’t bring a change of clothes.”
She held open the door and motioned for Ryder to join her.
Even the toilet seat was gold. The sink. Wherever he stood, at least one palm branch was touching him.
He started unbuttoning his shirt, while Zoe stood next to him and was reaching behind her to try to grasp the slipped strapless bra again.
“Need a hand?” he asked, trying not to laugh at the contortions she was getting into.
She tipped her head back and grumbled a throaty laugh. “You know, bras are stupid. Some of us don’t really need one. I mean, don’t get me wrong, even wee boobs jiggle and sports bras are appreciated. And, I appreciate the boost from a padded bra, but strapless bras are not made for us flat-chested ladies. This is ridiculous.”
She turned away so her back was to him, and held the front of the dress up.
Pure fucking torture, she slid the intact strap off her shoulder and lowered the dress so he could reach the clasp.
Ryder froze and his breath choked in his lungs and he almost squealed with helpless lust. Like her shoulders, her back was toned and smooth and the bare shoulders were killing him. “Um. Zoe?”
“Yeah?” she asked lightly and turned to look over her shoulder.
“Not saying I haven’t been hoping to end the night undressing you, but… holy shit this is… um… I’m having a bit of a shy spell, apparently.”
Eyes rich with amusement, she grinned over her shoulder at him. “I’d rather not venture into the middle of the crowd looking like I’ve just had a bathroom romp at my brother’s wedding.”
Ryder bit down hard on his tongue and lifted his hands to her back. Silky smooth and warm and…
He tried to keep it light and rein in his reaction as he started down the four clasps.
“So, you’d rather webothlook like we just had a bathroom romp? An untamable bulge in my slacks, while the woman I’ve been dancing with is wearing my shirt?”
No mercy, she just laughed, tipping her head back so the ends of her hair brushed over his fingers.
There was no gentle way of prying the clasps open, so he finally squeezed the bra an extra millimeter tighter for leverage. It worked, and the first row snapped free. “How did this fall down? How did you even get it on?”
“Creatively. Anyway, I lack the boobs to hold it up, or, well, I suspect that’s the problem. I’ve never found a strapless bra that fits, so I’m not sure how they’re supposed to stay up.”
Unable to resist, he looked over her shoulder at her reflection. The false boobs from the bra were bigger than what she had, and the delicate fabric accented every detail of her nipples. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I think I like you better without the bra.”
He busted the next hook as he brought her another layer closer to freedom and comfort.
She fluttered an eyeroll. “Nipples.”
He froze and snorted a laugh, looking up until he met her look in the mirror. “I’m a fan.”
“No, I mean, without the bra, it's like two pointy beacons are calling out from my otherwise flat chest. As much as I think society needs to accept that humans have nipples, everyone stares, and it gets weird.”
The final two clasps snapped off, and the bra flung open. Zoe grabbed the thing and wiggled in happy freedom. Red marks marred her skin where the bra had dug in all night, then lighter red marks where it had been sitting since the fall.
“I promise to not stare at your nipples.”
