by Dover, L. P.
“One of my friends from college got married here.”
“It’s common,” I tell her. “There are chapels everywhere. You just walk in and boom.”
“That’s crazy.”
When we get to the Venetian, we find out the gondolas are closed for maintenance. Really? How in the hell am I supposed to impress this woman if I can’t do romantic shit? Leah must sense my frustration because she weaves her fingers through mine.
“I saw a frozen cocktail stand. Let’s go get drinks and walk around.” As angry as I am, I follow her, all the while trying to come up with another plan. Dinner will be romantic, but I wanted her entire day to be something to remember.
Leah knows exactly where the drink stand is. She orders one of those really long bottled drinks, ends up buying a fuzzy hat off a street vendor, poses for a picture with every character we come across, drops money into every street performer’s buckets and drags me into every single store that has something in the window she wants. By the end of the day, she’s bought nothing, eaten very little and seems to be on a sugar high.
“I want a cheeseburger,” she blurts out as we exit the New Yorker hotel. She was insistent we go on the roller coaster. I was concerned that she might throw up, but she’s a tough one.
“Good thing we have dinner reservations. Come on, let’s head back.” I hail a cab to get back to the hotel faster. When we get inside the hotel, I hold onto her firmly, to keep her from heading to the casino.
“Don’t trust me, huh?”
“No, I really want to see you in that dress and take you to dinner.”
“Me too,” she says right before we enter the elevator.
Along with us, there’s a crowd and we’re forced—because it’s such a hardship—to stand next to each other. I don’t know if she’s doing this on purpose, but her fingers are grazing mine, her body is turned toward me, and her hand is pressed against my leg. I love every single second of it.
“I’m going to take a quick shower,” Leah says when we step off the elevator. “I won’t wash my hair, so it won’t take me long to get ready.”
“We just have to walk across the street for dinner, so no rush.”
As soon as we step into the room, she veers toward the bathroom. Only, she leaves the door open and insists I stand in the hall and talk to her.
“Did you have fun today?”
“I had the best time. This was really a great date.”
“It’s not over yet,” I remind her.
She laughs. “I’m still not sleeping with you. I may be a little tipsy, but my mind is sharp.”
“No, I know. I was just talking about dinner. Know what I think would be hilarious?” I look down at the carpet and wonder if I should blurt out my thought or make something up.
“What’s that?”
“I think we should get married.”
The water shuts off and everything is silent. I took my shot. I have nothing to lose. The worse she can say is no and I laugh it off.
Leah steps out of the shower with nothing but her towel on and I wish like hell she would get over the no sex thing because I really want to be with her.
“You’re crazy.”
I shrug. “Honestly, I just said it to piss off your brother. He’s so protective of you, it’s maddening.”
She tilts her head to the side and appraises me. “My parents would flip.”
“We could do it just for show. Give everyone in the PGA something to talk about, and honestly, if I post one picture on my social media, maybe I won’t be harassed as much.”
Her lips purse. “My brother would hate you even more.”
I nod and laugh. “Think of how fun the rivalry would be.”
She shakes her head. “Your sense of humor is odd.”
“Eh, it was just a thought. I’ll let you get dressed.” I close the door and head into the room. For the first time since before I left, I decide to check my phone. Eli has texted me a million times asking where I am and if I’m with Leah because her brother is freaking out. “Hey,” I call out. “You might want to check your phone.”
Leah comes out of the bathroom, still wearing just a towel and rummages through her bag. She turns on her phone and waits before she starts cussing up a storm. Her dirty mouth is a complete turn on.
“What’s wrong?”
“It would seem someone saw us together this morning and word got back to my brother. He’s really pissed.”
“We can skip dinner and fly back now, if you want.”
She tosses her phone down and looks at me. “No, I think we should get fake married to prove to him that I can do whatever the hell I want, with whoever the hell I want.”
“Are you serious?”
Leah nods. “Yes, but I’m still not having sex with you.”
I hold my hands up. “No worries there. I just want the damn picture of us together.”
Leah rushes to get ready while I shower quickly. When I step into the room, in nothing but a towel, her eyes rake over my body like I’m something to eat. I may have forgotten to dry off, but it’s the little things that can really change someone’s mind about sex. Like for me and the white dress she’s wearing with a slit so high up her leg that I can tell she’s not wearing any panties. Also, I can’t forget the front of her dress, with its swooped neckline, showing just enough of her breasts to make a man’s mouth water.
“I just need a minute,” I tell her. In the bathroom, I grip the end of the counter and count to ten, hoping my boner goes away. It doesn’t, leaving me no choice but to get ready with my dick poking the counter every few seconds. After towel drying my hair, I add some fancy shit my manager bought for me and dress in a pair of black slacks and a navy button down.
When I come back into the room, Leah’s pinned her hair off to the side, exposing her back. “Fuck,” I mutter.
“What’s wrong?”
“You. You’re like a walking sin, begging to be touched. How are you so fucking perfect and gorgeous?”
“Only in your eyes.”
“Right now, it’s only mine that matter.”
Leah blushes and I take it as a good sign.
* * *
Each hotel has their own chapel, but even I know women dream of getting married in Paris. We head to the hotel, skip dinner, and go right to the chapel. We tell the receptionist that we want the full package, just not the legality of it all. She looks at us oddly but takes the cash and tells us we’re next. Neither of us are nervous because this isn’t real, except I want it to be.
Once our names are called, I leave her at the front and go take the customary position next to the officiant. The music plays, Leah carries a fake bouquet of flowers, and some guy in the back is videotaping. Neither of us are paying attention to what the guy says, we sign on the dotted line after we say, “I do” and act like we’re the happiest couple in the world when he tells me to kiss my bride. I keep it simple and just give her a peck because our first real kiss isn’t going to be in front of this man who gets paid by the hour to marry people.
By the time it’s all said and done, we have no choice but to head back to the airfield. On the flight back, we sit next to each other and I ask her to continue to read her book to me. She does, and the whole time I never take my eyes off of her. Nor do I remove my hand from her leg. Most importantly, she doesn’t ask me to. We laugh at the email of our impromptu fake wedding and decide which photo I’ll post on social media which I’ve already done. Sooner or later, I’ll announce that it was nothing but a prank. We’re going to make people think it’s real for the time being. Leah forwarded the email to herself so she’ll have copies of the pictures too. I can only imagine what her family’s going to say when they find out. Her phone’s going to blow up as soon as we land.
In Charleston, it’s late when we touch ground, and thankfully everyone is asleep, and the hotel is empty. Leah’s phone dings constantly with texts and messages, but she doesn’t bother looking at them. I’m curious to know what th
ey say. I walk her to her room, still holding her hand. With her back pressed against the door, I lean in. “I had an amazing date, Leah. Thank you.”
She smiles. “I have to say, as dates go, this has been the most amazing one ever. I can’t wait to read all my missed messages. Should be fun.”
Her words bring a smile to my face. Maybe now, she won’t see me as the bad guy, but someone she wants to spend time with. I bring her hand to my lips and kiss her finger, which should have a ring on it, but doesn’t. I slowly let our hands fall but because I’m all about taking shots with this woman, I lean in and hedge my bets. My lips press to hers and I fully expect her to push me away, but she doesn’t.
Leah’s hands go to my neck, she pulls me forward and whimpers as our tongues meet. She pushes her body against mine, but her voice lingers in the back of my head, no sex, so I slam my hand against her door to keep myself from touching her. I let her hands roam before I step away.
“Good night, Leah.” I hate the words but I’m trying to respect her right now. I head toward the stairs, needing to exert some energy. I’d give anything to be with her, but she has to tell me, with her words, she’s changed her mind. Otherwise, I would feel like I’m taking advantage of the situation, and that’s not who I am.
6
Leah
“Good night, Leah.”
Greyson steps away and heads toward the stairs. I want to tell him to come back, but I have to test him. He walks through the door to the stairs and doesn’t look back. I wondered if he’d try to stay, but he didn’t. I respect that. What I love more is that he respects me. Never once did he try to overstep the boundaries today. On the contrary, I’m the one who initiated the touching.
Opening the door to my room, I step inside and toss my bag on the couch. My cheeks hurt from smiling so much. It’s been a long time since I’ve let loose and just did something off the wall and crazy. Being with Greyson was exhilarating. Flying to Vegas, getting married, and just doing whatever I wanted felt amazing. Granted, we’re not actually married, but it was fun. I’ve never laughed so hard in my life. The pictures are even more epic. By the time we got off the plane, the picture Greyson posted of us at the chapel had already gotten half a million likes. So many congratulations mixed in with some “oh shit” type comments. My brother’s name got mentioned several times. Judging by all of the messages on my phone, I have no doubt most of them are from him.
I lay down on the bed and click on my messages. Yep, most of them are from Bryan. There are several from my mother, saying that she hopes what Greyson and I are doing is a joke. And also, that my father is pissed. Then again, I have a feeling most of that is coming from Bryan. My father knows about the animosity between them. I’ve overheard my dad talk about how amazing Greyson is at golfing when he’s not around Bryan. If Bryan didn’t have an issue with Greyson, I’m pretty sure my dad wouldn’t either.
Taking a deep breath, I open up Bryan’s messages.
Bryan: Seriously, Leah? What the hell are you doing with Jennings? And in Vegas? Don’t do anything you’ll regret!
Bryan: Holy shit! You got married! I’m going to kick his fucking ass. He’s only doing this to fuck with me!
There are plenty more, but they’re all the same. Of course, he’d see it as Greyson trying to use me to get a rise out of him. Yes, Greyson’s done some underhanded things like going to the media with bogus stories to embarrass him. I’m sure my brother was just pissed that he never thought of doing the same thing to Greyson in the first place. Bryan doesn’t know Greyson like I do. The world doesn’t revolve around my brother and it’s time he realizes that.
Once I’m through reading all the text messages, I click on my voicemail. Bryan’s voice is frantic and pissed. “Please, God, Leah what the fuck are you doing with that asshole? He’s only using you to get to me. It’s what he’s been trying to do for years. You can’t trust him.” He huffs and I can hear the anger. “If he hurts you in any way, I’m going to kill him. He’s gone too far this time. Just don’t let him get close to you. You’re too smart for this, Leah. You don’t know what he’s really like, but I do.”
Bryan’s only seen the dickhead side of Greyson. I know how they’ve been toward each other. I’ve seen it firsthand at all the tournaments. Something tells me that no matter what I say about Greyson, my brother won’t believe a word of it. We will just have to agree to disagree on this.
Closing my eyes, I breathe out slow, remembering the way it felt to be with Greyson. It’s been a long time since I’ve had the butterflies in my stomach. I’m twenty-eight-years-old and I can’t recall a time I actually wanted to be with someone like I do with Greyson. All this time, I thought I hated him, when in all honesty, I’m drawn to him. I tried to convince myself otherwise, but the more time I spend with him, the more I crave to feel his touch.
I crave him even now.
“I can’t believe I’m doing this.” I open my eyes and slide off the bed. I know what I want. Grabbing my room key, I take a deep breath and leave, my heart racing out of control. It’s an exhilarating feeling. Instead of taking the elevator, I rush to the stairs and race up the two flights it takes to get to his floor. Have I really thought about what I’m doing? Not in the least. All I know is that it feels right.
When I get to his door, I tap it gently with my finger. It’s late and the last thing I want is to draw attention from the other people on the floor. Knowing my luck, my great aunt is probably next door. By now, my heart is beating faster. Greyson opens the door, wearing only a pair of shorts and showing off his tanned, chiseled chest. The breath hitches in my lungs. His smile makes everything inside of me tighten.
“What are you doing here, Leah?”
“I lied.” I slide past him and push him against the door, my body leaning into his.
His eyes darken and he holds me close. He knows what I want, and I can see it in his eyes that he wants it too. “About what?” he asks, his voice low.
I bring my hands up to his face and the deep rumble in his chest turns me on even more. “I want you, Greyson. No regrets, no second guessing.” My lips connect with his and everything changes. The air in the room turns electric, almost like all the sexual tension between us is exploding all at once. It’s a dangerous, yet, oh so exciting feeling. I bite his bottom lip and suck it between my teeth, earning a growl to escape from his chest. I slowly release his lip from my grasp, loving the way his body responds to me.
His arms wrap tighter around my waist, pulling me into him. “What do you want to do?”
I look right into his crystal blue eyes. “I think you know.”
His eyes darken even more, and he lifts me up in his arms, his hands squeezing the backs of my thighs. I straddle his waist which hikes my skirt up. “Are you sure?” he asks as he carries me over to the bed.
I nod. “Yes. I told you … no regrets. I want this.”
He sets me down on the bed and slides my skirt down my legs while I toss my shirt and bra onto the floor. His eyes roam over my body and it makes me tremble. I fumble with the string on his shorts, but I finally get them loose and he kicks them off. I’m way past ready for him to make love to me.
Spreading me wide with his knee, he moans as he trails his lips down my neck to my breasts. Like a starved man, he sucks my nipples until they grow raw and sore. It feels so achingly good.
“I’ve wanted this for so fucking long,” he groans, kissing his way down my stomach. Gripping my thighs, he spreads me wide and looks up at me as he buries his mouth into my center. He thrusts his tongue inside and breathes me in, pressing his nose into my clit. The stimulation has me so close to losing control. “Mmm . . . so good,” he growls.
Replacing his tongue with a finger, he pushes in hard and moves his mouth to my clit. The harder he sucks, the more I clench his head with my thighs. Exploding, I grab onto his hair and hold his face against me as spasms rip through my core.
When my body relaxes, he licks his lips and puts the finger he had insid
e of me in his mouth, keeping his gaze on mine the entire time.
“Make love to me, Greyson. If you think about it, it’s our wedding night.”
Covering me with his body, he places a hand on the side of my face and positions his tip inside, circling the wetness around his cock. He smiles and traces my lips with his tongue. “Yes, it is. I’m just glad you said yes.”
A part of me is thrilled at the thought of being his wife, even if it is just pretend. Closing his lips over mine, he kisses me gently as he slides the rest of the way in. I wrap my legs around his waist, squeezing as tight as I can to keep him there. I want to feel all of him, as deep as he can go. He slowly starts to move against me; our bodies slide against each other. I can’t think of anything else but the two of us, our bodies connected as one.
Picking up his pace, he grunts with his thrusts. My orgasm keeps building, and the more he pushes against me, the closer I get to the edge. “Greyson,” I cry out, digging my nails into his back. Holding me tight, he finishes inside me, his cock pulsating with his release. He collapses on top of me, his breaths coming out in huffs.
“Fuck, that felt good.”
Smiling up at him, I tighten my legs around his waist. “The night’s not over yet.”
Greyson grips me and rolls over so that I end up on top of him. “Far from over. It’s just getting started.”
And I’m looking forward to every single minute of it.
* * *
The morning comes quickly, and I wake up in Greyson’s arms. When I look at the clock, I’ve only gotten two hours of sleep. What’s worse is that I have to meet my family in an hour for breakfast.
I try to slide out of bed, but Greyson grabs my waist. “No, don’t go.”
Giggling, I snuggle into his chest. “I have to. It’s time to face the music. My family is pissed.”
He kisses the back of my neck. “Want me to come with you?”