Sandy hugged her. “We’ll talk soon.” She rolled her eyes at her son when his hands slid across her backside again. “Rhett, wait three more minutes, for crying out loud. You’re embarrassing your wife.”
He didn’t look particularly concerned, and when they walked outside into the cold night air, Shawn’s jacket just draped over her shoulders, he opened the car door for her.
Murmuring, he said, “You’d better give your heart to Jesus, because your ass is mine tonight.”
What irritated her more than anything else was the fact that despite her annoyance, his words still aroused her.
And she wasn’t sure how she felt about that.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
RHETT wasn’t as drunk as everyone seemed to think he was. He could still walk a straight line and get an erection. That was all that really mattered. In fact, he already had an erection as the driver took them home, his hand making inroads into Shawn’s inner thighs through the soft fabric of her dress. Or rather, not making inroads. He kept getting caught in folds of slippery whiteness.
“Damn it,” he complained. “This dress is multiplying.”
“It’s drunk-groom-proof,” she said, and her tone was not particularly lighthearted.
Rhett was starting to get the impression that Shawn was not best pleased with him. “Honey, I am not drunk. I’m relaxed. Relaxed Rhett. Everyone always tells me I’m too serious, so here I am, letting my hair down.”
“I’ve never said that,” she said, though the corner of her mouth did turn up slightly.
“How is your head?” he asked, suddenly remembering she’d complained about it hurting.
“It’s a little better, but I just feel exhausted.”
“Let me massage your head.” Because there was no way he was letting her go to bed without a wedding bang.
Shawn shook her head. “Don’t worry about it.”
But she did undo the bun and let her hair down. It fanned around her face in some weird hair-sprayed clamshell effect. Rhett was suddenly glad he hadn’t come of age in the eighties. That hair was terrifying.
“If you’re tired, lay down.” He urged her down onto his lap and was surprised when she didn’t protest. “Just don’t fall asleep.”
“Why not?”
“Because I have a thing or two I’d like to say with my tongue before you sleep.” He waggled his tongue down at her so she could get the rather obvious hint.
Shawn rolled her eyes. “This may be the first night in our relationship that I’m immune to your heavy-handed charms.”
Uh. No. He didn’t think so. It was their wedding night, or their second wedding night. Which didn’t sound right. But the point was, he was not going to waste a good buzz and a hard-on tonight of all nights. “Heavy-handed? Is that what we’re calling it? I’ll give you heavy-handed.”
“Shh,” she whispered, her finger over her lips, and her head tilted to gesture to the driver.
“I think he probably has a good guess what we’re going to do. I don’t think you need to worry about being seen as tawdry. It’s our wedding night.” Rhett was starting to lose his buzz. Something was off with Shawn, and he didn’t like it.
It was obvious when she didn’t even wait for him to pay the driver, instead letting herself into the house and actually shutting the door behind her while he was still in the driveway. The driver shot him a look of sympathy, and Rhett felt his irritation spike.
When he went in the side door, Shawn had tossed her coat on a hook in the entry and was holding on to the kitchen counter, peeling her shoes off with a sigh.
“Is there a reason you just shut the door in my face?” he asked her, striving for an even tone.
“I wasn’t sure how long you’d be and it’s cold out there.”
That was clearly an excuse. She was bordering on petulant, and he didn’t understand why.
“Let me help you.” He shucked his suit jacket and tossed it over a kitchen chair. Bending over, he undid the buckle on her other shoe and pulled it off. He pressed his lips to her ankle, sliding his tongue up the firm calf. “You have amazing legs.”
Normally she went liquid under his touch, but she remained stiff. Rhett rose again, pulling the fabric of her dress with him so that her legs were exposed from the thigh down. “What kind of panties do you have on?” he asked curiously. He was picturing a white scrap of lace.
Which contributed to his total astonishment when he reached under the silky folds of her dress and discovered some sort of one-piece bodysuit that was clinging to her skin like a wet suit. “What the f**k are you wearing?” He immediately retreated. He didn’t want to touch that. It was like stroking a seal.
“A body shaper. So there are no lumps under my dress.”
“There aren’t any lumps anywhere on you. Except for this.” He cupped her br**sts. “First order of business is getting you out of that contraption.”
But when he reached for the zipper on the side of her dress, she wiggled out of his reach. “No, I’m not going to have you take this off. Getting out of a body shaper is almost as difficult as getting into it. There’s a lot of tugging and . . . flopping.”
He held up his arms, palms out in surrender. “Okay, hands off.”
“You can’t watch either.”
“Are you kidding me right now?” This seduction was not unfolding at all the way he had intended.
“No.”
Rhett tore his tie off and dropped it on the counter. “Do you think this counts as disobedience?”
For the first time all night, he saw her breath hitch with desire. But she shook her head. “No. You said that you would never force me to degrade myself. Shoving this off my body while you watch constitutes degradation.”
Rhett laughed. “I can respect that.” He ran his finger over her lip. “Thank you for being honest with me. Thank you for being you.”
But for some reason, his words didn’t have the effect he had assumed they would. She pulled a face.
“What?” he asked.
“Nothing.”
Studying her expression, he couldn’t read her. She wasn’t even meeting his eye. “Then go take your dress off.”
There it was again, another face. “I suck at these parties. I was awful tonight. I’m sure your family is wondering what you see in me.”
It wasn’t like Shawn to dive into a pool of self-pity, and he was taken aback. “I’m sure they’ll love you like I do.”