Page 67 of What I Like About You

“Ugh,” he groaned, pushing up into a standing position. “Really? Of all the movies, you want to watch that one? I know it’s your favorite, but Zara, it’s depressing.”

“It’s not depressing! It’s romantic,” she countered, sitting up.

“She doesn’t remember who he is—that’s depressing.”

“But every day he works to remind her!”

“What other suggestions you got?”

Zara shuffled through the list of movies she could remember that he kept on the Z drive. There had to be at least twenty on there, but most of the titles were escaping her at the moment. Especially trying to find one he might not have to suffer through too badly.

“Moulin Rouge?”

“I can deal with that one. Still kinda depressing when she dies, but at least Ewan McGregor can sing,” he commented. “You get comfy. I’ll get the movie going.”

“Ummm, Tripp,” she said, looking down at the cocktail dress she was still wearing. While part of her had assumed they would end up back at his place tonight, no part of her had thought about a change of clothes. She’d worn one of his T-shirts to sleep in the other night, but as she looked around the room, she didn’t see any kind of overnight bag. Maybe he had one stashed in the bathroom.

“Yeah, baby?” he asked, without looking up from the laptop.

“What was the plan regarding PJs?”

Whipping around, Dalton’s eyes got wide, as it suddenly dawned on him that they were still in their formal wear. His eyes darted around the room and in between the two of them, taking in the outfits they were still wearing and the lack of a change of clothes.

“I definitely didn’t think about that part.”

“So…you just planning to hang out in that suit all night?”

“Or maybe a different one,” he answered with a wink.

“Oh? And what suit would that be?” she asked, playing like she didn’t know exactly where that mischievous mind of his was going with this.

Standing up again, he started to loosen his tie. Slowly letting it drop to the ground, his fingers made their way to the buttons on his shirt, flicking each one undone in time with the steps he was now taking toward her. His steps were long and slow, like he was a cat on the prowl. Watching him approach her like this set her insides on fire, and she was more turned on with each step he took. Sucking in a deep breath, she prepared for him to slip right out of that dress shirt and start on his belt. But before he got to that point, he stopped right in front of her, his gaze locking with hers.

“My birthday suit.”

* * *

No plan was ever perfect,Dalton reminded himself as he stood there half-undressed. There had been a nagging feeling for most of the afternoon telling him that he was forgetting something, but he’d written it off as nerves. Turns out there was something. Okay, time to improvise.

“I think you just want to see me naked, Tripp Sutherland,” Zara said, a giggle escaping from her lips, betraying whatever attempt she had been making at being serious.

“Only since we were twelve or so,” he admitted. “But in all honesty, I knew I was forgetting something. Do you want to go grab something from your room? Or I can give you my undershirt. Whatever will make you most comfortable.”

Zara stood up and took a couple of steps, closing the gap between them. Biting her bottom lip, she ran her eyes up and down his body, leaving a trail of heat across his skin as she did so. She was so damn sexy, and he knew that she had no idea just how much of an effect on him she had. He’d been waiting for her to look at him like this for what felt like forever, and now that they were here, it still didn’t feel real. As her gaze returned to his, she slowly spun around so that her back faced him.

“Unzip me?”

He could feel his lips curve into a smile as he did as she asked, drawing down the zipper of the dress as slowly as he could. It was torture to move at this speed, but he wanted to draw it out—wanted to tease her in the process. About halfway down her back, he noticed the absence of a very specific undergarment, which sent all the blood in his body rushing to his cock.

“You seem to have forgotten your bra, Miss Wellington,” he commented, and he finished unzipping her.

“I couldn’t wear one with this dress, and I didn’t bring a strapless one with me. I didn’t think you’d mind.”

“There are no complaints from me,” he said, watching as she shimmied out of it until she was in nothing but her boy-short style panties. “You can hang it in the closet if you want. I’ll finish with the movie.”

Turning back to his laptop, he finished pulling up the movie and connecting it to the TV. He grabbed the gummy bears and Junior Mints from the cart and made his way to the bed. Zara had made herself comfortable, climbing under the lush duvet and snuggling among at least half a dozen pillows. She was a vision sitting there like that, with the comforter tucked up under her arms, just barely covering the tops of those glorious breasts. He took a minute to soak it all in. This was a moment he’d thought would never happen. But here they were, together. Watching her in that bed, nervously picking at invisible lint on the covers, made his heart sing. He wanted this every day. Wanted to wake up to it, wanted it to be the last thing he saw before he went to bed.

“There’s room for me in there, right?” he asked, as he undid his belt.