Indiscretion

Later that night, after the wedding was over and we were back at the cabin, I came out of the bathroom and found Naomi sitting on the couch. Her hands covered her face and her shoulders shook. Shit. She’s crying.

My gut told me to turn around, go back into the bathroom, and quietly shut the door. I sucked at tears, especially drunk ones, and Naomi was pretty inebriated. But when I looked over a second time, my heart squeezed and I just couldn’t do it. So I took a deep breath and soldiered out to the living room.

“Hey. What’s going on?” I asked in my most gentle voice. “Are you okay?”

She snorted. “My stupid hair.”

“What?”

Tears rolled down her face, smacking into a giant goofy smile. Thank fuck. She wasn’t crying; she was laughing. Naomi spat words out between fits of giggles, so she wasn’t so easy to understand. But I caught the words hair and zipper and managed to put two and two together. Sure enough, I looked behind her and found a clump of her hair stuck in the zipper of her dress. This woman was a complete disaster.

“Are you always this big of a train wreck?”

Her answer was a loud, high-pitched hiccup. We both lost it after that. Tears rolled down my face, and Naomi continued to hiccup between snorts. By the time we were able to control ourselves, there was a streak of black mascara down her cheek.

Without thinking, I wiped it away with my thumb. “Eye makeup,” I said.

But when she looked up at me with her big green eyes, something shifted, and our laughter trailed off. We were sitting so close, I could smell the sweet cream frosting from the wedding cake on her breath. It made me salivate. Naomi’s tongue traced a line along her bottom lip, making it wet and ripe for tasting. But we weren’t at the wedding anymore, amid the safety of two-hundred-and-fifty people looking at the dance floor. We were alone, just the two of us in a house with a bed. And that kiss earlier made me painfully aware that if I started things a second time, there was no way in hell I’d be able to stop. I knew that for a fact, yet I wasn’t sure I cared. A little war raged inside of me, debating whether I should lean in the two inches and say fuck it or get up and put some space between us.

But then Naomi hiccupped again.

And it was like someone threw a bucket of cold water over me. I had a nice buzz going, but she was drunk. I was a lot of shitty things, but I was not a man who took advantage of women—though being this close to her definitely tested my morality.

I stood. “We should probably get some sleep. I need to head out early tomorrow morning.”

Naomi blinked a few times. “Oh. Yeah, okay.”

She looked as disappointed as I felt, yet I stuffed my hands into my pockets for safekeeping. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Dawson.”

I swore under my breath as I watched her sexy ass sashay down the hall to the bedroom. For a little thing, she had a decent amount of junk in her trunk. What I wouldn’t do to rip off the thong I know she has under there with my teeth.

Once the show was over, and the door had shut behind her, I stripped out of my clothes. I hadn’t known I was going to have a roomie, so I didn’t pack sweats to sleep in or anything. My underwear was going to have to make do. Naomi had mentioned she was a late sleeper anyway, so I’d likely be up and out before she was even awake. I really did need to get on the road early. Plus, she’d seen me naked already, and I wasn’t exactly modest.

I flicked off the lamp, shook out the blanket, and did my best to get comfortable on the little couch. But a few minutes later, the sound of a door opening made my eyes pop open. My heart raced as footsteps grew nearer.

“Dawson?” Naomi whispered.

“Yeah?”

“I need help with the zipper. I tried to do it myself again, but I think I got more hair caught.”

I’d forgotten all about her hair being stuck. I smiled and sat up. “Fair warning, I didn’t pack any PJs, so I’m in my underwear.”

“Oh.” She turned her back to me. “I need to face this way anyway.”

My damn heart pounded as I stepped close to her, and my body reacted to how good she smelled—floral, with a hint of sweet. The only woman I’d ever helped with a zipper and not ended up in bed with was my mother. It didn’t help that it was dark, and I was wearing only my underwear. I couldn’t remember the last time I was so attracted to a woman. Emily was sexy, but in an almost harsh, artificial way. Naomi was the girl next door. I didn’t want to embarrass myself if she turned around, so when I reached for the zipper, I closed my eyes and attempted to pretend she was my mother.

But my mother did not smell this good. And I never had the urge to run my fingers along my mother’s bare shoulder to touch her soft skin. And I certainly never felt myself growing hard as a rock as I worked on her zipper.

I needed to do this fast and get my ass back on the couch and under the covers. But her damn hair was really tangled. After a minute or two, it became clear that I wasn’t going to be able to fix this mess in the dark.

“Do you think we can put on that lamp, so I can see better?” I asked.

“Sure. I’ll do it.” Naomi walked over to the end table and turned the light on. I’d only been in the dark five minutes, but apparently my pupils had adjusted. The shock of light caused my eyes to close. After a few seconds, I blinked them open, still squinting. Naomi was wide-eyed, staring at the bulge in my underwear. I couldn’t even attempt to pretend I wasn’t half hard.

“Sorry. I, uh… You smell really good.”

She smiled and covered her mouth. “I’m glad I don’t have one of those to tell my secrets.”

My eyes dropped to her chest. Her nipples were practically piercing through the silky material of her dress. I groaned. “Turn around or you’re going to get poked in the ass while I work on that zipper.”

Unfortunately, Naomi’s backside looked just as good as the front side, so I needed to get this shit done and pray the bedroom door had a lock on it. I had no idea how she’d managed to get so much of her hair snarled in the zipper, but it took a while to free it all.

“Your hair is out, but the zipper itself still won’t budge.” I jiggled the metal pull. “I don’t want to break it.”

“It’s fine. I can get the zipper replaced. Just break it, if you have to. I don’t want to sleep in the dress.”

“Alright.” This time, instead of a gentle tug, I gave it a good, firm yank. That did the trick. The zipper split open, but unfortunately, it unzipped all the way down to Naomi’s waist, far enough for me to confirm what I’d already suspected: Naomi wasn’t wearing a bra.

“Shit.”

“What happened?”

“Nothing. But you’re not wearing a bra. So you should probably just walk straight to your room and not turn around.”

“The dress isn’t going to fall off because the zipper is open. I’m still covered in the front. I’m decent.”

“You might be. But I’m definitely not anymore.”

She turned, laughing, and her eyes grew wider. “Oh, wow.” She hiccupped. “That thing got even bigger.”

I pointed to the hallway. “Go!”

She nibbled on her plump bottom lip and took another look at my very full underwear.

“Go now,” I said sternly.

“Why?”

“Because I’m trying to be a gentleman.”

Naomi pouted. “You suck.”

“That’s better than you sucking when you’re drunk. And I’m about five seconds away from putting you on your knees and showing you all the non-gentlemanly things I want to do to you.”

Her pouty lips parted. When her eyes grew hooded, I knew she was imagining what I’d just said. I dragged a hand through my hair. “You really need to go in the other room. And lock the damn door.”

“Will you at least kiss me goodnight?”

I shook my head. “Definitely not. You’re drunk.”

“I was tipsy earlier when we kissed.”

“That was make believe.”

Her face fell. “It didn’t feel make believe to me.” After a long moment, she sighed. “Goodnight, Dawson.”

I hated that I’d hurt her feelings, but it was better to have her walk away a little hurt than do something she might regret in the morning.

“Goodnight, Naomi. Take care of yourself.”