Bad Boy’s Wedding
Emilia Beaumont
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Epilogue
The Playbook - Teaser
Also by Emilia Beaumont
About the Author
Copyright © 2017 by Emilia Beaumont
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Please note this title was previously published under a different pen name.
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1
CONNOR
“You’re leaving me?”
She looked at me with those big brown doe eyes caked with layers upon layers of mascara. They were in shock, wide, and yet hopeful that I was having her on. But I never fucking joked around, not about shit like this. Once I made a decision, that’s it. It’s done.
And our time was up.
“Right before our wedding?” Crystal’s mouth stayed open, like a fish struggling to breathe. I hated the look. It made her seem desperate and I steeled myself, ready for the oncoming whining that was bound to follow. “All the guests, the planning. Oh my god, the honeymoon!”
There it was. The tears would be next.
“Yeah, just the way these things go, babe,” I said with a shrug. “At least I gave you two days notice.” I mean, what else was I supposed to say? I was done; I’d gotten what I’d wanted out of the relationship but a wedding? That was taking it too far. Good thing it was all hushed up and secret—the way Crystal had wanted it so it would make a huge splash in the gossip headlines, her proper introduction to the world as my wife. Her as a wife? I almost snorted, Yeah, right. And I certainly wasn’t husband material. Life was too short to be tied down like that. My dick had places to go, unexplored honey pots to devour.
It finally dawned upon her that I was actually serious and her visage twisted into an ugly image. I was sure she was thinking of way more than just the wedding and honeymoon, but her fucking ticket to the good life.
“But why?” she whined.
I shrugged again and watched as her face flushed a hot angry red, obviously not appreciating my casual I don’t fucking care attitude.
She launched herself at me, her fists pounding into my chest.
“You fucking prick! How could you do this to me?” Anger raged amongst the swells of tears in her eyes and for a slight moment I felt sorry for hurting her. Crystal had in a way been good to me, the perfect vision of a woman who every man dreamed about with her long blonde hair and smoking hot body. I didn’t really want to hurt her, but this life, married fucking life, that wasn’t going to work out for me.
Not one little bit.
I’d let it go on for too long, the make-believe fantasy that I could change into a better man, the man she was planning on me being once that ring was on my finger. But we both knew that it would’ve been a flash in the pan anyway had I gone through with it. Six months and I would’ve been divorced, following in good old Dad’s footsteps.
Though small, her pummeling fists started to annoy me. She clawed at my shirt in desperation, the fabric straining between her perfect fingernails. I’d expected her not to take it well; calling off the wedding she’d meticulously planned down to every last place setting was never going to be a bed of roses. I had expected a lot of crying, some swearing, but not this. She was acting like I’d ruined her damn life. It was just a wedding, for Christ’s sake! She’d find some other sucker with a healthy bank balance to cozy up to in no time. I started to yell for her to get the hell off me, but then the downright devil inside me had a better idea and I smiled at her.
Claiming her wrists, I stopped her attack and stepped close to her. Her sweet perfume enveloped me. I would probably miss that, I thought, but it wasn’t as if her scent wasn’t from a bottle that could be replicated. Though there would be one thing that I definitely would have difficulty stepping away from; her thick lips and the way she wrapped them around my cock. That I enjoyed way too much, and so did she.
She kept on squirming and trying to fight me and I quickly pinned her to the wall of the bridal suite, my hard body acting like the other side of a vise. She couldn’t move and I had her right where I wanted her.
Crystal stopped screeching, unsure of what was happening, and she looked up at me with her questioning brown eyes. Breath ragged and raw, her chest heaved with anger and excitement, a sound I was used to far too much. There was no way she could control herself around me. Her pulse bounded against the delicate skin at her neck, a sign that maybe she wasn’t as angry at me as she’d like to be. Crystal enjoyed being dramatic but she also liked sex rough, which had been a great draw to her to begin with, and she was getting that knowing glint in her eye. Hell, she knew that I enjoyed it too and used it to her every advantage, persuading me into proposing after a heavy night of angry hot sex. But the moment I put that massive rock of a diamond on her finger, I knew it was a mistake.
She began to open her mouth, no doubt to start asking annoying fucking questions about deep meaningful feeling type bullshit, so I quickly bent my head down and smashed my lips up against hers, forcing my way into her mouth like I knew she loved it. She moaned, and her body released the tension it’d been holding from all the fighting, melting against me eagerly, anticipating what was going to happen next.
I eased my hand up her skirt and between her legs, then reached for her panties; that tiny thong she’d put on earlier when we were dressing for dinner. She had looked smoking hot in her tiny skirt and tube top, her eyes all shiny from all the attention she was getting. Crystal loved to be the center of attention, another reason why she was marrying me. And that’s when it had hit me. As I sat watching her get dressed, primping herself, all giddy talking about the numerous talk-shows she’d be invited to once we were married, spilling her guts about how she’d managed to pin down one of the most eligible quarterback bachelors…it’d been the last straw.
I skimmed my fingers up her thigh and her legs opened without hesitation, instinct and longing for my touch, a touch she knew so well. I knew what she was thinking: my reaction to her anger, the way I had ‘called off’ the wedding—she thought it was just a ploy for us to have rough sex, that none of my words were real.
Well, she was in for a big surprise. I was fucking serious but I wasn’t going to pass up a sure thing either. One last hurrah, I thought slyly.
Running my fingers over the smooth silk of her thong, I felt the telltale sign of her excitement. It was like she’d sprung a fucking leak, she was that horny. Her body defi
nitely wasn’t that pissed at me, but she would be, I thought with an inward chuckle. I knew I was being a prick, but I couldn’t help it. I always got what I wanted, and right then I wanted her to suck my dick one last time, then I’d be done with her.
I let her feel the outline of my cock against her belly and she moaned, pressing herself right back up and rubbing herself against my trapped shaft like she was a cat in heat.
Her lips were red from my harsh kiss as I moved my head away and let her arms free, waiting to see what she was going to do. Who was I kidding, I knew exactly what she was going to do.
She dropped to her knees and instantly reached for my belt buckle, and within a flash she had her hands around my cock as it eagerly sprang free, aching for one last lick.
“I can’t believe you would joke about something like that,” she whispered, relieved, her lips a breath away from the tip of my swollen head. “Who would want to step away from this?” Her tongue darted out and swiped a lick of the pre-cum that began to glisten on its head.
“Mhmm,” I replied noncommittally. I raked my fingers through her hair, grasping onto her head and nudging my hips forward. Without a second thought, as my cock bounced at her mouth, she wrapped her lips around me and started to go to work, her familiar motions making me groan with need. Hell, maybe I was going to miss this just a little. “Fuck me with that sweet mouth of yours,” I groaned, unable to help myself. “Do what you’re good for.”
I clamped my hands around both sides of her head and started to help her out, forcing my cock further down her throat. “Deeper,” I demanded. She was doing too much teasing for my liking. I wanted a release and I wanted it now.
Crystal widened her mouth and angled her throat, taking it all in her stride as I started to fuck her face, cramming my dick in as far as I could. Spittle ran down her chin and I could feel her eyes on me, but I looked away.
It wasn’t long before I felt my balls writhe and my head swell. I clenched my eyes shut and shot hot cum down her throat with a roar, the release immediately causing that blissful invincible feeling, like I could do anything, springing all the way to my toes. I fucking loved that feeling, it was almost as good as scoring a winning touchdown.
Swallowing, she looked up at me with a smile in her eyes, pleased with herself, and continued to suck on me for all I was worth, milking every last drop like it was her last. But she’d have to get her daily calcium intake from somewhere else. Idly, I wondered if she was going to miss me or the way I made her feel when I pounded into her. Nah, she’d miss the money and the fame, that was about it.
Reclaiming myself from her warm mouth, I zipped back up my jeans and fastened the buckle. There was no way I was going to have my junk out so that she could attack for what I was going to say next. “What a beautiful parting gift that was, babe. Shame I didn’t get you anything in return.”
Still on her knees, her face twisted first to confusion, then to anger as she registered the words. “Wait, what about me? You’re not gonna fuck me? You were serious? You said it was a joke!”
“No I didn’t, you just thought it was. But thanks for the suck-and-go.” I grabbed my jacket from the chair and slipped my arms through, not wanting to lose my favorite, custom-made leather jacket to Crystal; she’d have ripped it to shreds the moment I was out the door. It had cost a damn fortune, and while it was easily replaced, I loved the way it felt on my body; it was already broken in.
Crystal blinked at me, getting ready to explode. It was time for me to go. I didn’t want to be here for another inevitable breakdown. I was cutting all ties and she was going to be truly pissed once she realized I was not playing around.
“Have a nice life, Crystal,” I said over my shoulder as I opened the door to the long hallway of the hotel, “it was fun while it lasted.” Crystal had insisted on a bridal penthouse suite and being the accommodating groom that I was, I’d catered to her every whim until, that is, I’d come to my fucking senses. Even if I did want to get married, Crystal was certainly not what I had in mind… But regardless, I’d do the right thing and would foot the bill as a parting gift. She could at least appreciate that.
“You bastard! You’ll fucking regret this! I’ll go to the tabloids!” she screamed behind me, the door slamming in her scrunched up face before she could send more abuse flying at me. It felt good, breaking a tie that threatened to change my life for the worse; she would’ve been a nightmare, would’ve probably burned through my savings within months buying racks of designer clothes and pointless other things she’d tell me she needed. I just wasn’t that type of guy. I didn’t want to settle down, get married, have some brats and drive them around in a minivan like my parents had done. It had driven them apart, so what would be the point?
Reaching the elevator, I punched the down button, half expecting to hear her behind me, begging for me to change my mind. She wouldn’t, though. Crystal would be too proud, turn this into a pity party for herself, and I would be the bastard who had broken her heart.
Well, that was what I was and I would wear that badge proudly now that I had dodged this bullet. I was starting over, and it was a fucking good feeling.
2
APRIL
“You’re kidding me, right?”
I stared at the tear-streaked bride who was surrounded by her brigade of bridesmaids, a bottle of vodka in her trembling hands. I’d been in the middle of discussing the final positioning of the floral arrangements with the florist down in the ballroom of the exclusive hotel; a gorgeous arch that had been flown in from Hawaii for the special day when I got the 911 emergency call from the bride. Or had it been Barbados? I couldn’t remember anymore; the stress of this wedding was starting to make me crazy. It was always one thing after another… and now I had to deal with the worst case scenario that every wedding planner dreads.
Of all the ones I had planned in my short but lucrative wedding planning career, this was definitely the most stressful. The bride, Crystal Wagner, was a socialite who not only demanded perfection but expected it to be delivered on a silver platter to her too.
Bridezilla on steroids.
I’d actually been afraid that she’d tear down this entire hotel with one of her tantrums. I couldn’t tell you how many times we’d gone back and forth about every minute detail of this wedding, my initial ideas never ever good enough, only to have her tell me the exact same idea the next day and take all of the credit. She’d driven me batty but this was my one chance to shine. So, I’d kept a smile pinned to my face thinking and dreaming of my future, of running my own wedding planning business.
She’d also insisted on doing the whole Hollywood thing and making it a surprise ceremony for the guests, making my job a thousand times more difficult to keep the whole damn thing as quiet as possible. And so far I was doing a bang up job; there hadn’t been a peep from the press, which I was grateful for. But that wouldn’t last for long, not now.
This was a nightmare.
Tonight’s dinner had been the start of the longest weekend of my career. Most of the time I enjoyed making a bride’s special day come true, but this bride…well, I was definitely looking forward to the commission on this one.
“I’m not kidding!” she wailed as the bridesmaids cooed around her, patting her shoulders. “He fucking dumped me after he… after… oh my god, he’s a fucking bastard!”
“It’s okay, Crystal,” one of the women said, handing her a tissue. “He’ll come crawling back tonight. You wait and see.”
“You don’t know Connor,” Crystal replied, pushing the woman away and swigging another healthy gulp of vodka. “When he says something, he means it. The asshole! I should have known better. I thought I had him… this was my ticket to fame!”
I thought about the groom; Connor Haden, the cocky, very self-assured star quarterback of the LA Lions. His on-the-field performance was one that would make him a hall of famer someday, but it was his off-the-field antics that had truly made him a household name, for all the wrong reason
s, though. The tabloids were constantly full of him with his shirt off posing for the cameras, not to mention articles about his man-whoring ways, dumping this girl then the next. Going through whole batches of women like the disposable tissues Crystal had managed to work her way through.
The world had been shocked and surprised—teenage girls as well as disappointed housewives no doubt crying themselves to sleep—when the announcement had come that he’d gotten engaged to the smug socialite; and I remember reading polls about how long it would last… turns out Connor’s limit was two months.
I only knew him from watching football, one of my favorite players this season because he was that good, but that was it. He hadn’t been involved at all in the wedding preparations… I supposed that could’ve been a warning sign right there. But right now, all I wanted to do was punch him. He was ruining my entire existence by dumping his bride two days before her wedding. Really, who did that?
“Maybe someone can go talk to him,” another bridesmaid suggested, her words slurred. She was getting just as hammered as the bride. Crystal pondered the suggestion as she chugged the last of the vodka from the bottle, her mascara leaving black streaks down her cheeks.
As I watched her and studied her performance, it was difficult to feel sorry for the woman who’d made my life a misery for the last few weeks, but I knew I was being hard on her. She’d just received extremely terrible news, but if I didn’t know better I would’ve thought she was putting on a show for hidden cameras. She looked nothing like the radiant woman who had gripped her groom’s arm tightly just hours earlier while I‘d watched from the wings of the room, ensuring that everything was where it should be, and everything like a soap-opera star ready to deliver her next line.
Her bridesmaid had a point, though, maybe someone should go talk to him. It was my job to ensure that the next twenty-four to forty-eight hours went smoothly and right now, I was failing miserably. This was my chance to save the day.
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