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“I can’t walk around naked. We still have staff to consider,” I replied with a chuckle, already looking forward to our future adventures together.
“They’ll be tucked away after a certain hour. We can handle snacks and things ourselves,” Oliver said as he stood up and pulled out of me. He helped me to my feet, swiftly adjusting my skirt. I gathered up the shreds of my panties from the floor and shook them playfully at him.
“You owe me some pairs,” I teased.
“You have the credit card. Buy whatever you like,” Oliver replied with a grin.
“Good. I’ll be stopping at Boudoir Fashions to pick out some new items. I might even get some surprises for our honeymoon,” I said mischievously.
“I can only hope,” Oliver said, his voice tinged with anticipation.
“What’s that supposed to mean? It’s not like I wear old ratty panties,” I retorted.
“I’m not referring to your panties. You sleep in t-shirts almost every night,” Oliver admitted.
“Does that bother you?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.
“No, but I prefer to see you in lingerie,” he confessed.
I pressed my panties to his chest and then dropped them, heading down the hall towards the shower. I could hear Oliver's belt buckle jingling as he followed me.
“Ryleigh?” he called out.
“What?” I replied, glancing back at him.
“Are you angry with me?” he asked, sounding concerned.
“No, not at all,” I reassured him.
“Then why did you walk away?” he queried.
“I was making a statement,” I replied coyly.
“I’m not sure exactly what that statement would be,” Oliver admitted, sounding puzzled.
“Why bother with lingerie when most of the time I end up naked?” I explained.
“I know, but it would be nice to unwrap it from you sometimes,” he said softly.
I couldn’t help but smile. “I’ll take it under advisement.”
“Are you showering?” he asked, changing the subject.
“I feel like a bath. Want to join me?”
“Sounds nice. I think I will.”
Fifteen minutes later, we were soaking in a tub full of fragrant lime basil bubbles. I nestled between Oliver’s legs, my back pressed against his chest. His fingers wove through my hair, twisting it into a loose bun on top of my head.
"I love your hair," he murmured, his breath warm against my ear.
I smiled, leaning into his touch. "I was thinking of cutting it for the wedding. Something shorter."
"Please don’t," he said, his voice almost pleading. "I love it long."
"Have you decided on a bachelor party?" I asked, shifting slightly to look at him.
Oliver's brows furrowed, a familiar look of contemplation crossing his face. "I still want to do it as one group. Why are you against it?"
