Chasing Red

by Kelsey Cheyenne

  Her brows are furrowed and her lips are pursed. Her green eyes are lifted up at the ceiling and I can tell she’s deep in thought. “Hails,” she snaps out of it, glancing at me. “What is it?”

  “I was trying to think of the best store to find a black-tie dress at and the quickest way to get there. Let’s go.” She hops out of the car while I stare at her from behind. That woman is an enigma. One minute she’s yelling about crashing a wedding the next minute she’s giving me orders. Sexy little vixen.

  ◊◊◊

  “You didn’t have to pay for my dress, you know.”

  We’re hop back into the SUV with our new outfits on. I think she feels guilty because she picked out an expensive outfit and I’m only a school teacher.

  She doesn’t realize I don’t work as a teacher because I have to but because I love my job. I came from money, but I don’t spend it frivolously or spread that fact around.

  “Yes, I did.” I give her a long, slow once-over, appreciating her appearance. She picked out this red dress with sleeves stopping just below her elbow. The top stretches tight over her tits, but the rest of the dress has sheer lacy flowers covering the front and back. There’s a slit up the back which makes me want to tear it the rest of the way so I can take her from behind.

  She looks fucking incredible and I’m already regretting this plan. I don’t know if I’ll be able to keep my hands off her tonight. Plus, in that dress, there’s no way she’ll blend in with the crowd while we’re trying to stay inconspicuous.

  Luckily, as a man, I don’t have as many options; I'm stuck with a deep gray suit and a red tie to match my date. As we’re driving back to the wedding, she fastens her hair into this messy-looking braid thing and change her shoes to a matching red heel. Do girls really pack their entire closets just for a weekend away?

  As I turn into the drive, I notice a ton of cars have arrived, thank fuck. I follow a short line of traffic and notice there’s a valet. These people must be incredibly wealthy.

  “So, why a wedding?”

  “What?” I glance at my date. Bad idea… because now I don’t want to look away.

  “Why did you decide to crash this wedding?” She drops her voice to a whisper as if the people outside the car could hear our conversation.

  I shrug. “It’s on my bucket list.”

  “You have a bucket list?” She acts as if it’s the weirdest concept in the world and my face flares with embarrassment.

  “Of course, don’t you? Doesn’t everyone secretly, deep down have one?” People always have things they want to do, but they need an excuse to take action. It’s like the kids who always pick dare during truth or dare as a reason to do crazy, stupid shit. My bucket list is my excuse.

  “Maybe, but for some people I think it’s more about goals or dreams, not crashing weddings.” We get to the valet and hop out of the truck. I walk around to meet her and take her on my arm.

  I lean in to whisper in her ear, but it’s more of an excuse to smell her lavender shampoo. She smells heavenly. “The key is to fit in. Act natural.”

  “I know what to do. We should’ve come up with a story in the car instead of talking about your bucket list.”

  “I still need to find out what’s on yours.” She rolls her eyes at me which makes me smile ridiculously. “Just follow my lead.”

  We walk tall and confident, side by side, following the other guests into the barn. I now understand why the couple chose this place to get married, despite the complicated directions. This barn is magical.

  The tables and chairs the people were carrying in here earlier are nowhere to be found. The space is huge and sliding doors open up on either side, which is probably where the tables are hiding for the ceremony.

  Twinkling lights and delicate chandeliers illuminate the area. White rose petals line the side of the aisle by the chairs leading to the altar. The arch is covered in deep red, pink, and white flowers and canopy draping.

  I’m relieved we changed our attire because we would’ve stuck out like sore thumbs in our old clothes. Everyone here is dressed to the nines and the place and people reek of wealth.

  Hailey tries to get a seat in the back but I don’t budge. I pull her forward to grab a spot in the middle. “Less conspicuous.” I wink at her and she blushes. It makes my dick hard. I’m glad I’m already seated.

  People file in rapidly behind us and I’m wondering if we’re sitting on the bride’s or the groom’s side. They have one of those bullshit pick a seat, not a side! signs that nobody ever listens to.

  A woman with startlingly red hair crowds in beside me with her date, who is three inches shorter than she is. I glance at her feet—she’s not even wearing heels.

  “How did you meet the groom?” Thank God I chose the groom’s side by chance, but it’s also unfortunate I have to sit next to chatty Kathy.

  “We went to college together.”

  “Oh, you went to State too? It’s why they wanted to have the ceremony up here, you see. Oh, silly me, I’m sure you know that. They said one of their friends introduced them on campus, that wasn’t you, was it?” She’s gripping my arm with excitement and I’m tempted to pry her hands off of me.

  I didn’t go to PSU, but I visited Hunter enough I can bullshit my way through this, as can Hailey, I’m sure. “No, wasn’t me. Probably would’ve been in the wedding party if I was. We’ve drifted, of course. It was a pleasant surprise when the invite even arrived in the mail to my wife and I.” I gesture to the bombshell sitting beside me as she starts choking.

  “Oh, I’m so sorry. Excuse me. It’s a pleasure to meet you…” Hailey lets the sentence hang to get the woman’s name.

  “Where are my manners? I’m Jessie and this is my husband Peter.”

  I shake the man’s hand and it’s a weak, disappointing handshake. “I’m Chase and this is my wife, Hailey.” I put emphasis on the word knowing it makes her uncomfortable.

  “How long have you two been married? Were James and Cameron at your wedding?”

  “No, we eloped. This one couldn’t wait to tie me down. In or out of the bedroom, if you know what I mean.” I throw the poor lady a wink and she blushes as red as her fiery hair.

  A hand slaps down on my thigh, squeezing with force; not enough to hurt me, but enough to get my attention. “Chase, I think that’s enough. I’m so sorry, Jessie. Excuse us.” She leans in to whisper something in my ear and it’s obvious she’s pissed but I can’t stop smiling.

  “It’s on, Chase. You just started a war.”

  Hunter used to tell me about the prank wars he used to have with his sister. Tonight just got even more interesting.

  5

  Hailey

  Chase thought he was embarrassing me, but in reality, he’s lit a fire under my ass. I can play this game all day. He’s lucky the wedding started soon after that. The ceremony was beautiful and although Chase and I claim we went to college with the couple, the truth is we’ve never seen either one of them before in our lives. It’s thrilling. We’re Owen Wilson and Vince Vaughn conning all these people. I’m definitely Owen though, I don’t care what Chase says.

  It’s cocktail hour and the bride and groom are off taking pictures. Now that I have a drink in my hand and we’re encouraged to mingle, it’s game on.

  I keep my arm looped through Chase’s as we make our way around the main house while the wedding party is in the barn for pictures. The entire first floor is open concept and decorated for the occasion.

  It’s easy to fool these people who are distant friends or relatives of the newlyweds. It’ll be harder to convince the close friends and family or, ya know, the actual bride and groom themselves.

  We’re chatting to a nice older couple, Richard and Betty, who are the great aunt and uncle of the bride. I wait until Chase takes a swig of his beer before going in for the kill.

  “Don’t you think that’s enough, sweetie? You already have problems down there. Alcohol won’t help.” I pretend to whisper behind my hand
, but I see Betty’s eyes widen as she takes in my “husband.”

  Chase spits out his beer, covering poor Richard and I bite my cheek to keep from laughing.

  “It’s okay dear, it happens to the best of them.” Betty may be my favorite person as she pats my date’s arm with sympathy. “You see, my Dick here has issues as well.”

  I lied. Now Betty is my favorite person. I don’t think she even realizes what she said. If I had a drink, I would’ve just spewed it myself.

  Richard is patting his face with a handkerchief as Chase drags me away. “I’ll come find you later. Maybe you can give us some prescription recommendations.” I’m practically yelling as I’m being dragged away.

  He pulled me into a secluded corner and my back presses against the wall. It’s cold against my skin and I shiver, or it might be a reaction to the way he’s looking at me right now.

  He’s smirking and his eyes are dark as night, peering at me full of lust. “Is that the best you got? Erectile dysfunction?”

  He’s so close to me. If we both took deep breaths at the same time our chests would brush. My lips part to allow me to breathe easier. I look up at him from under my lashes and I see his gaze drag down my body slowly. I lick my lips. He’s biting his.

  I brace my hands on the wall behind me because I’m afraid of what I’ll do if I’m not holding onto something. He takes a step closer to me, caging me in. Our bodies are grazing against one another. If I lift my hips our groins would connect and it’s tempting. My lady business is buzzing, yearning for that contact.

  “Does this feel like I have ED?” He thrusts his hips into me and I gasp. My mouth falls open but no words come out. His cock is hard, pushing against the seam of his pants. I crave to grind against it, feel its length.

  Is it… for me? Or is he turned on by our game, the thrill of it? I want to ask him, but I notice we’re no longer alone.

  “Oh, dear. You two again. You’re an… adventurous pair, aren’t you? Well, carry on then, or maybe, get a room.” Jessie’s uncomfortable giggle fills the room and kills the moment.

  Chase backs up to give me space, but his eyes still linger, keeping the fire within me alive. “Come on. The night’s not over yet.” He has a mischievous gleam as I take his hand. I made my move against him and now I’m afraid of what he’ll do or say next.

  They set a makeshift bar up in the kitchen which is where Chase leads me. The bartender is fit and very attractive, but he doesn’t hold a candle to my date. “A Blue Moon for me and a white wine for the lady. Make sure it’s a heavy pour. My girl likes her booze.”

  Ah, now I’m a sex fiend with a drinking problem and my husband has erectile dysfunction. How original.

  “The two of you are just the cutest things. My husband and I used to be as in love as you two, but now all we do is bicker. Enjoy it while it lasts!” Fit, cute, and gay. Figures.

  I take the opportunity that’s screaming in my face. “You might as well get two beers while we’re here, honey. You’ll need to be nice and loose tonight.” I turn to the bartender. “He’s been begging me to peg him in the bedroom. Do you have any advice for my dear husband?”

  I offer a small, innocent smile to the bartender whose nametag reads Tom. Tom waves his hand in front of his face with extreme enthusiasm. “Oh, honey, if you want to play for the other team for a night you can come join me and my husband! We’re swingers. Sorry, baby girl, you might have to sit this one out.” He throws me a wink and I grin. I like him.

  “Yeah, you could learn a few things. I’m sure they’d be real good to you.” I pat my date on the back, looking up at him with a grin.

  “I appreciate the offer, but I need to walk before I can run.” He pulls me away from the bar, and I can’t help but think I’m winning this game after all.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, if you’ll join us for the reception in the barn. Dinner is about to be served,” a woman wearing a headset with a determined look in her eyes calls from the foyer. I take her to be the wedding planner. Her blonde hair has streaks of gray despite the fact she looks to only be in her early forties. There are wrinkles around her eyes and mouth, and I can’t figure out if they’re from smiling or frowning. Both could come with the job, I assume.

  I make my way out the door when Chase stops me. “We have to wait until everyone’s seated. Then we can see if there are any open seats to take.”

  He’s clever, I’ll give him that. Richard and Betty pass us, waving at us to come along. “She has to use the bathroom first. Diarrhea.” Chase shrugs and I roll my eyes, smacking him in the stomach with the back of my hand.

  Our new best friend Jessie comes up to us with her husband whose name I can’t remember and she latches onto my hand. “Are you coming? Maybe you’ll be seated at our table too.” I was sure she would steer clear of us after our last two interactions, but as I smell the alcohol on her breath, I realize she probably doesn’t care at this moment.

  “We’re trying to sneak a quickie in before dinner, but you two go on ahead.” Still, she blushes but spins and walks away, pulling her husband behind her.

  “Was that meant to embarrass me? Because wanting to have a quickie with my smoking hot wife isn’t embarrassing,” he whispers in my ear, his breath hot on my neck.

  “I guess you’re right. But that,” since he’s standing behind me I push my ass into his groin, feeling the hardness beneath his trousers, “will be uncomfortable and I plan to keep you that way all night.”

  Maybe I’m not playing fair anymore, but I’m having too much fun. As the last few guests trickle out, we make our way to the barn. Of course, everyone already has an assigned seat with their place cards on the china meaning we can’t snag two names and play it off.

  At least there are two empty seats beside each other at table number six. We have to walk past the couple’s table but they’re too engrossed in one another to notice us. I don’t recognize any of the people at this table which can mean for more awkward encounters and explaining how we know the newlyweds.

  Our place cards read Alexander and Elizabeth Wyatt and I don’t know why they couldn’t make it to the wedding but I’m glad they didn’t show. I’m praying we’re sitting at the random table with guests who didn’t fit in anywhere else. With luck, no one else here will know who Alexander and Elizabeth are either. They were the only two chairs left that were together. Luckily, neither of our new friends are at this table either to see our actual names weren’t placed here.

  The meals come out and after the salad I’m waiting to see what ritzy entrée I’ll have. Salmon? Lobster? It’s clear these people have money. I’m sure they sprung for the best.

  Chase’s meal gets placed in front of him—a perfectly pink seared filet mignon with roasted vegetables. My mouth waters from looking at it. I pick up my knife and fork as the waiter places my plate in front of me.

  Apparently Elizabeth Wyatt has a different taste from her husband because she ordered lamb. I want to gag from looking at it.

  A deep rumble comes out of Chase as he moans in appreciation of his meal. “Switch with me.”

  “Are you crazy? I wouldn’t give this up right now if a child begged me for it.” He takes another bite and my mouth salivates. I ate the salad so I could go without a real meal if necessary, but I’ve been drinking and would like some heavier food in my system.

  A lightbulb pings over my head. I push my plate away and grab my napkin, dabbing at my eyes and pretend to cry.

  “Dear, what’s wrong?” The woman sitting beside me, Jane, asks me, rubbing my back as concern floods her features.

  “It’s just… my husband here thinks I’m fat, so he ordered me the lamb, which he knows I’m allergic to, so I won’t eat any more,” I sob loud enough for the table to hear but not overwhelmingly so to detract from the reception.

  I look out of the corner of my eye at my date. His fork is paused midway to his mouth and his cheeks are beet red. Checkmate.

  “That’s not true. Sweetie, you know I think
you’re gorgeous.”

  “Then why did you order me the lamb when you sent in the invitation?” I lift my head in defiance and I’m trying my damnedest not to smile.

  “I thought I checked two filets. The order got messed up.” He says it through clenched teeth. I think I made him crack.

  “Well, are you allergic to lamb? Why don’t you switch with your poor wife if you really don’t think she’s fat?” Thank you, Jane.

  I pout my lips in a puppy dog manner and wipe away more stray, fake tears. He caves, sliding his plate over and grabbing my discarded lamb. He acts as if he’s going to kiss my cheek but he whispers in my ear instead. “You owe me. That steak was better-than-sex good.”

  “That’s because you’ve never had sex with me.” He adjusts his pants as I cut into the steak. I moan so he can hear me. I hope it sends shock waves down to his dick. “You’re right. That is good.” I lick my lips and he takes a bite of the lamb.

  He hums and stays quiet. I know the wheels are turning in that pretty little head of his. I’m scared for what’s to come. “I’m going to run to the bathroom.”

  I nod in acknowledgment, but I’m too busy savoring this fine piece of meat to respond. A few minutes pass and I’m tempted to lick the plate to finish every last drop, but I refrain. Chase returns to his seat just as the speeches are ready to begin.

  The maid of honor makes a teary, heartfelt speech she can barely talk through because she’s too busy crying. I guess it’s the bride’s older sister and watching her little sis get married is emotional for her. I couldn’t tell you one line of her speech, but other people seemed to enjoy it.

  The best man’s speech is about seventy percent funny with an alarming number of jabs and the other thirty percent he hits on the bride. Talk about uncomfortable. I wonder if there’s a story there.

  The DJ retrieves the mic from the groomsman and I’m sure he’s about to announce the first dance. I grab my glass of champagne we were given for the toasts and chug the remains.