Deal Makers
Page 7
“Sure,” I shrug, trying to maintain eye contact. His dick is practically punching through the zipper on his jeans and it’s really hard to ignore.
Like, really, really hard.
Drew shoves his hands into his pockets to discreetly adjust his boner. “Uh...yeah, sure. I guess. If that’s what you want to do.”
I playfully punch his bicep. Ouch, that thing is solid. “Great! Let’s go find a table!”
“Great.” His tone says that he thinks my diversion tactic is anything but great. “Lead the way, Charlee.”
I smile as I step onto the casino floor, feeling his eyes on my ass the entire time.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
DREW
“I kicked blackjack’s ass!” Charlee lifts her arms in triumph. “We should celebrate!”
I steady her by the elbow as we step into the observation wheel. “Isn’t that what we’re doing right now?”
She points to the bar in the center of the pod. “Celebrations call for cocktails!” She giggles. “I said cock. Cock, cock, cockity cock. Cockleshell. Cocksure. Oh, I know! Cock-a-doodle-doo!” She crows that last word, causing the people around us to snicker. Thank fuck we’re in the twenty-one and over pod.
I tuck a thick strand of hair behind her ear and smile when she leans her cheek into my palm. “That last drink really tipped you over the edge, huh?”
On our way to the Linq’s promenade, we stopped at one of those stands that offers yardstick beakers of slushy alcohol. Charlee sucked hers down like taking a hit from a beer bong. I slurped mine a little more slowly but finished it nonetheless. I’m a big guy so it takes a lot to get me drunk, but those fucking things are huge, and we had shots right before that, so I’m actually buzzing pretty hard right now. I’m pretty sure the gorgeous brunette currently rubbing up against me like a cat has crossed over into sloshed.
“Nah.” She strokes my arm like it’s the softest thing she’s ever felt. “I’m good. Your muscles are huge, Drew. How often do you work out?” She rests her head against my bicep. “Seriously, this thing is almost as big as my head. Look!”
I laugh as I tuck her into my chest. “I work out every day if I can. If I’m at the station, I only get an hour per day but if I’m at home, I’ll go to the gym for a couple of hours.”
She wraps her arms around my waist and tips her head back. “Every day? That’s insane. Exercise blows. I mean, I do it, but only because I fucking love to eat, but I’m miserable the whole time.”
“I actually really enjoy it,” I say with a shrug. “If you’re that miserable, maybe you just need a workout partner. You should come with me sometime.”
Her hands wander down to my ass. “I’d rather work off calories the naked way. If you feel the need to lift weights, you can totally bench press me.” She squeezes my ass and presses her tits into my stomach to emphasize her point.
I groan as I picture lifting her deliciously naked body, pressing my lips against her skin with each downward motion. Having a boner while trapped in a small space with twenty other people isn’t ideal so as much as I don’t want to, I step back.
“Let’s get you that cocktail, Drunkie McGhee.”
She pouts. “Party pooper.”
Drinks in hand, Charlee and I make our way to the window to watch the skyline as we climb in altitude. The higher we go, the more pliant her body becomes. My front is practically molded to her back. My dick is so fucking hard it’s painful, so I grind into her ass to get some friction as I drag my tongue down the slender column of her neck. She smells so goddamn good, and her skin tastes so sweet, I can’t find the will to care that we’re essentially dry humping in a confined space filled with people.
It’s totally the tequila’s fault.
A song gets stuck in my head about some chick who keeps losing her clothes when she drinks tequila and all I can think about is getting Charlee out of her damn clothes.
“God, Drew,” Charlee pants.
I gently bite her shoulder. “How much longer is this ride?”
She whimpers. “Too long.”
Right before I do something really stupid that could possibly get us arrested, a couple steps next to us. I straighten up and give them a forced smile.
The woman smiles. “Are you two newlyweds?”
“What?” I reply. “Uh...no. We’re not.”
The wiry man next to her pulls her into his side and kisses her temple. “Oh, I’m sorry,” she says. “You two were so affectionate, I just assumed. Will and I got married here twenty years ago today.”
I offer my hand to the man. “You must be Will. I’m Drew. And this lovely lady is Charlee.”
He nods. “I am. Nice to meet you two. This is my wife, Dawn.”
Charlee turns her body so she’s facing the couple. “Happy Anniversary. Are you on vacation to celebrate?”
Will smiles affectionately. “We come here every year. This is where we met.”
“Aw, that’s so sweet,” Charlee says. “You met here so you came back to get married here?”
Dawn chuckles. “Not quite. We met here and got married on the same day.”
“What?!” Charlee and I ask in unison.
Will barks out a laugh. “I know it seems impulsive, but at the risk of sounding foolish, we just knew. We were drunk off our asses, but that part was clear. It didn’t matter how long we knew each other, I had no doubt that she was the woman I wanted to spend the rest of my life with.”
“And I felt the same,” Dawn adds. “We figured Fate led us to each other, so we should let Fate decide our future.”
I tilt my head to the side. “What do you mean?”
Will rubs her shoulders. “The roulette table. Red we get married, black, we go our separate ways.”
Charlee takes my hand and squeezes my fingers. “So the ball landed on red?”
“It landed on red,” Dawn confirms.
My eyebrows lift. “Wow. Congratulations. I’m sure not many people can say they got drunk and married in Vegas, and were still happy twenty years later.”
Dawn wraps her arms around her husband’s waist. “Thank you.” She turns her head as the observation wheel comes to a stop. “Wow, it looks like we’re back on the ground already. It was nice meeting you two.”
“You as well,” Charlee says. She turns to me as we exit. “What do you want to do now?”
I pull on her arm, with a single-minded focus to get down to the casino level. “Let it all ride on Fate.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHARLEE
“What are we doing here, Drew?”
He watches the ball spin on the roulette table before facing me again. “I want to make a deal.”
I hiccup. Damn, the liquor is really getting to me. “What kind of deal?”
Drew grabs my hands. “Look, I know this may seem crazy, but the couple we just met really got me thinking. I think they were in that pod with us for a reason. I think we were supposed to meet them. To hear their story.”
I blink rapidly, trying to process his words. “Why?”
His big hands cup my cheeks, prodding me to look up at him. “I think we should spin the wheel. If it lands on red, we get married.”
“What?” I sputter.
“I’m serious,” he says. “I haven’t been able to get you off my mind since the day we met, Charlee. I haven’t wanted another woman since you walked into my life. I know we haven’t known each other long, but this...” He gestures between us. “Feels right. I swear on my nuts that I’ve never felt the kind of connection that you and I have before. And I don’t want to give that up.”
I giggle, because my mind just took a trip down the gutter. “Drew, I’ve been trying to give it up since the day we met but you weren’t taking.”
He laughs before placing a soft kiss on my lips. “Honey, trust me, I’ve wanted to. Fuck, I’ve wanted to.”
“What about your stupid Bro Code thing?”
He thinks about it for a few seconds. “I’m in too deep, Charlee.”
I snicker. “That’s what she said.”
Drew laughs. “Babe, that statement right there just proves how perfect we are together. What do you say?”
My cheeks warm as I bite my lip, thinking about it. It doesn’t take long before I’m nodding my head frantically. “Deal.”
He gets the most beautiful smile on his face right before pulling me into his arms and swinging me around. When he sets me down, Drew pulls a bill out of his wallet, placing his bet on the table marker.
We watch as the little black ball spins round and round. It seems like it takes forever before it slows. I grab Drew’s hand and hold my breath as the ball skips over the last few tiles before coming to a stop.
“Red twenty-five!” the dealer shouts. “Red twenty-five!”
Holy shit.
It landed on red.
Drew and I look at each other, with equal parts excitement and wonder. Are we really going to do this?
He squeezes my hand with a soft smile. “Let’s get another drink for the road and go find a preacher man named Elvis.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Back to Seattle...
DREW
Man, I’ve never wanted to be a sperm whale so much in my entire life. I saw a documentary once that said those fuckers could hold their breath for like, ninety minutes. The film didn’t explain why they’re called sperm whales so I had to google that shit because I was way too curious. Apparently, it’s a shortened version of spermaceti whale. The spermaceti is an organ that’s unique to the breed, and it secretes a white substance that whalers mistook for jizz. So in actuality, a sperm whale is in fact, named after baby batter. Now you know.
Why the fuck am I blabbering about marine mammals, you ask?
Because Charlee is sitting right next to me on the ride home. And I may not remember everything that happened last night, but my body sure does. More specifically my dick, who’s begging for a repeat as I breathe in her sugary smell. Hence, why being able to hold my breath for an extended period of time would be helpful right about now.
I always pay extra for an emergency row since I literally couldn’t fit into a regular seat. Not without eating my knees the entire flight, anyway. Charlee’s fun-sized so she definitely doesn’t need the space, but apparently our flight was overbooked so she volunteered to switch seats. Pretty big coincidence that the seat next to mine was the only spot left, don’t you think? Oh, and to make matters worse, Brody and Rainey are only two rows behind us. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear someone was fucking with me.
Charlee nudges me with her elbow. “Hey, look at this,” she says in a hushed voice. “From what I’ve been reading, this is much easier than trying to do it back home.”
She has a website pulled up on her iPad from a quickie annulment place. It says that you can fill out the forms online, print them, and they’ll file everything on your behalf once they receive the signed documents. It seems a little too simple, but then again, I’m sure they do this pretty often.
I hand the tablet back to her. “Looks good to me.”
Charlee places her cell in my hand. “Program your number into my phone so we can make arrangements to get together and fill these out.”
As I plug my info into her contacts, I think to myself how ridiculous it is that my wife and I don’t have each other’s phone numbers. I hand her my phone so I can have her number in return. Our fingers touch when I pass it over and I have to stifle a groan at the memory it produces. Charlee was on all fours, screaming my name, with sweat slicking her back. Her perfect heart-shaped ass was in my hands while I pounded into her from behind. To make it even more fuck-tastic, we were facing a mirror so I had an unobstructed view of every glorious inch of her naked body.
Fuuuuuck.
My dick is getting hard again and there’s nothing I can do to stop it. I fold my hands over my lap, hopefully making it less obvious to the people sitting across from us. This is the first flash I’ve had of anything sexual from last night and it’s even hotter than I could’ve imagined.
Charlee taps my elbow. “What’s wrong?”
Shit, I must’ve groaned again if she’s asking that.
I nod toward my dick. “I just had a memory.”
She eyeballs my crotch and fights back a laugh. “Ah. Clearly it was a naked memory.”
I squeeze my eyes shut but quickly open them when that makes the images even more vivid.
“Do you remember anything else yet?” I whisper. “Any...naked memories?”
Charlee scrunches her nose. “No...but I may have taken a quick peek under the sheets this morning.”
I laugh. I don’t know why I’m surprised by her candor at this point but she caught me off guard. “Oh yeah? Like what you saw?”
Her lip twitches. “Maybe.”
Goddammit, the challenge in her tone makes me want to drag her into the bathroom and drop my pants just to see her reaction. Not to be cocky—pun intended—but I know I’m packing. I’m six-five. That fact alone pretty much guarantees that I’d be above average, but let’s just say that when God was handing out dicks, he was really generous with me.
“Don’t test me, Charlee,” I grumble.
She discreetly runs her finger over my thigh. “Why not, Drew? Are you going to spank me for being so naughty?”
I give her my best stink eye. “You’re not exactly making the situation better with comments like that.”
She pouts mockingly. “Oh, poor baby. Do you want me to kiss it and make it feel better?”
Aaaaaannd here comes another memory. This one has her pouty red lips wrapped around my dick.
I widen my eyes. “Are you trying to get caught?”
She laughs. “Nah, I’m just fucking with you.”
Jesus Christ, this woman.
“Now who’s the one not taking this seriously?”
She give me an oh, please gesture. “I’m just trying to lighten the mood, Drew. Trust me, I take it plenty seriously.” She eyes me with interest. “But I won’t pretend that I wouldn’t like a repeat of last night so I could actually remember why my puss-ay feels so bruised.”
Charlotte Harris is going to be the death of me. Mark my words.
“Can we table this conversation until after we get home?” I sigh. “Blue balls aren’t exactly comfortable and I’m tired of whispering.”
Charlee smirks. “Sure, Drew. We can talk about it later.”
“On that note...” I put my earbuds in. “I’m going to try getting some sleep. I’m pretty sure neither one of us got much shut-eye last night.” Plus sleeping is likely the only way I can get my boner to go down while Charlee is so close to me.
As I hit the play button on my relaxation playlist and close my eyes, I will myself to fall asleep fast. Otherwise, at the rate I’m going, I’ll be facing indecent exposure charges when I get off this plane.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Viva Las Vegas!
CHARLEE
“Where to?” the cabbie asks.
“Pick a chapel, any chapel,” Drew slurs.
“Gimme one with Elfish!” I add. “Wait, that’s not right. Elllll-vis. Gimme one with Elllll-vis.” I scrunch my face up to really get the weird lip thing going. “Thank you. Thank you verra’ much.”
The driver laughs as he pulls away from the county building. “You’re about to get hitched, I take it?”
Drew swings his heavy arm around my shoulder and pulls me into him. “You bet your nuts we are!” He waves our freshly inked marriage license in the air. “We got our license with one minute to spare before the bureau closed.”
Cab guy laughs again. I don’t know why this dude thinks we’re so funny. “I know just the place. Hang on.”
As he pulls onto the main road, I get an awesome idea to pass the time. Facing Drew I say, “We should make out.”
He smiles. “You don’t need to ask me twice, honey.”
I’m not sure how long we play tonsil hockey before the car comes to a stop, but I think it’s
only a couple of minutes.
“Here ya go,” the cabbie says. “Hunk of Burning Love Wedding Chapel. Is that Elvis enough for you?”
I grin. “It’s perfect!”
Drew throws some cash at the driver as we’re exiting the vehicle. “Thanks, man. You’re the shiz.”
The cabbie laughs again. Seriously, what’s so damn funny? “Congratulations, you two. Have a good night.”
We walk through the front doors hand-in-hand. Holy bejeezus, I’ve never seen so many rhinestones in my entire life. It’s like one of the King’s famous outfits spewed little jumpsuit chunks all over the walls. In addition to the bedazzling, there’s gold plating, like everywhere. Except the carpeting which is a deep blue. It looks kind of velvety.
A lady that could very possibly be Tan Mom is waiting expectantly behind a glass counter. “Welcome to the Hunk of Burning Love Wedding Chapel.” Jesus, her voice sounds like she’s been smoking two packs a day for twenty years. “How may I help you this evening?”
We join her at the glass case that houses a bunch of rings. Ew, she smells like she smokes five packs a day.
“Yes, fine lady,” Drew says while puffing his chest out. “We’d like to get married please.”
Smoky chomps her gum a few times before giving us a yellow-toothed smile. She pulls out a laminated sheet and slams it on the counter. “We’ve got five packages to offer. How much you lookin’ to spend?”
“Oh!” I say excitedly as I fight with the zipper on my purse. I pull out a wad of bills from my blackjack winnings and hand them to her. “What will that get us?”
Her eyes light up and the wrinkles around her mouth deepen as she counts the cash. “This right here will get ya the All Shook Up package. It’s the best one we offer. Your ceremony is performed by a superstar impressionist, you get two luxurious gold-plated wedding bands, a delightful bouquet filled with the best carnations this side of the Mississippi, an 8x10 commemorative photo with frame, and a one-hour limo ride with a bottle of champagne when you’re ready to leave.”