I reached out to caress her cheek again. “We’re real now. I don’t want to lose that. But before we can move forward, I have to step back and show you things that we skipped. I’ve been trying to figure out the best way to do that, and I think maybe the best way is really the simplest. We just find out.”
She took a deep breath in. “I really loved about ninety-nine percent of what you said there until the part where I didn’t understand it. What do you mean by let’s find out?”
“I mean,” I dropped my hand from her face and leaned forward, excited by the idea. “Let’s go on a honeymoon and take these two weeks to learn each other. Without the world around us to interfere. Without the mask of pretending. Without work. Without the internet. Without Darrell. Without having to put on the show. Without Donovan. Without Clarence.”
“Without Sabrina,” she interjected.
I grinned. “Without any of the things that distract us here in the real world.” I couldn’t help thinking that included Sebastian. And Mr. and Mrs. Clemmons and the money I paid out in retribution for my father. “By the time the two weeks are over, I promise you will know everything about me. Hopefully by then we’ll have all the information we need about each other to figure out what happens next.”
She bit her lip in that funny way that she did sometimes and didn’t say anything for a minute.
Which made me suddenly doubt everything I’d suggested. “Did that all sound stupid?”
“No, I think it sounds actually really nice. I like the idea of it very much.”
I leaned into her and kissed her once, twice. Then longer, because I liked her taste and because she was mine and I could.
It felt too good, though. Too much of a relief, like I was getting away with something by not telling her everything up front. And that wasn’t what I wanted. I wanted to take our time getting to know each other for real, but I had to tell her about Sebastian now.
Except when I tried to break away, she pulled me back to her. “We still get to have lots of sex too, right?” she asked, her mouth hovering near mine.
“That’s definitely a given. Definitely, definitely a given.” She kissed me this time. “We could start that right now, actually.”
“Good, because I’m not hungry anymore for food.”
Then I’d tell her about Sebastian tomorrow. Waiting one more day wouldn’t hurt anything.
The next day started early. We had to be at the airport by seven, and I didn’t get coffee until we were seated in the plane, which meant I wasn’t fully caffeinated when I noticed the price on our tickets.
I’d come to terms with Elizabeth paying for the wedding. It was her farce, but also, her family was traditional and the bride’s side took care of that expense.
I hadn’t thought about the price of the honeymoon. That was usually the groom’s responsibility, wasn’t it? Elizabeth had made all the arrangements months ago. She’d been the one with the time while I was working, and the one with the money. Back then, when the whole thing had been fake, I hadn’t had any qualms with her putting out for a honeymoon that was only meant to fool her cousin. Now I felt differently.
“It’s our money,” she said, rolling her eyes when I apologized for not contributing.
For some reason, that ruffled my feathers even more. “It’s not our money. It’s your money. You are the one with lots and lots of it.”
“Right. So much that this plane flight is nothing. In fact, I would’ve booked a private jet except that I wanted our names on the roster so it would be easy for Darrell to track us down and know we went together.” She fluffed her pillow and set it behind her back before fastening her seatbelt.
“That doesn’t make me feel better.”
My wife had a lot of money.
Fuck.
My wife had a shit-ton of money.
She turned her head to study my profile. “Is this going to be a problem for you? This was always who I was, you know. What’s the difference now?”
I thought about it for a minute. Did it make me an inferior man because she had more dollars to her name than I did? Did it make me any less attracted to her? What did it really change?
“I guess the difference now is that I want to give you the world, but you can already buy it for yourself. So what do you need me for?”
She smiled in a way that made me feel like I was both charming and ridiculous. “Oh, Weston. I need you because the world you give me can’t be bought.”
She laced her hand in mine. It was the one with her rings sparkling proudly on her fourth finger. I thought about “my world,” the world that I gave her. I loved the sentiment, but she didn’t know everything about my world. She didn’t realize there was an embarassing financial scandal and a secret child.
Maybe she’d want that world too, but in case she didn’t, I wanted to keep her smiling at me the way she was now. That meant putting off telling her my secrets until the end of the honeymoon. She’d promised me she would stay offline and not worry about Dyson for two weeks. This was the same thing, wasn’t it? It would let us enjoy each other without anything else pressing in on us. Let us get to know each other without the baggage.
I would tell her—I’d said that I would, and I meant it. Just not right away.
The flight was long. And boring. And did I mention long? Eleven hours. Even in first class it was too much time to spend in a plane. Particularly one we couldn’t join the Mile-High Club in. The only benefits to the flight were that I could catch up on my sleep—something I’d been lacking the last two nights since I’d wed the beautiful lady sitting next to me, and it gave me enough time to properly explain the difference between the Marvel and DC universes, something Elizabeth was clearly confused about.
When we landed in Honolulu, we still had another short flight to Kauai, then finally we’d arrived. It was early evening by the time we rolled into the five-star resort Elizabeth had booked. We checked in and were told we had been given the honeymoon suite, and shown where to find the private bungalow on the beach. Our bed was covered with rose petals, and a bottle of champagne and chocolate-covered strawberries awaited us. Everything was top-notch and first rate. Truly, she’d planned a romantic and decadent honeymoon.
“This is amazing,” I said to my bride, awed. I glanced down at the sheet of activities that she had reserved for us already: island hike, massage, windsailing.
Actually, this was a really, really romantic honeymoon.
My brow wrinkled. “Elizabeth, you booked this before we even started sleeping together. What exactly did you think would happen between us on this trip?”
“What do you mean?” she asked not meeting my eyes.
“I mean, these activities are incredibly romantic. A lover’s trip to the waterfalls? A spa day for two?”
“It’s basically just stuff for parties of two. A pretty hike. A massage. I thought we could both enjoy having the tension rubbed away. I don’t understand what you’re getting at.”
“It’s a couples massage. We’re going to be naked in the same room together. I’m not sure that would have helped the tension.” I stared at her, a shit-eating grin on my face.
“Just say what you’re saying, Weston. Stop beating around the bush.” She sighed at her own use of the word bush, knowing exactly where my mind would go.
I gave her a break about the bush remark, and instead attacked the real matter at hand. “Were you planning to make a move on me during this two-week trip?” Her cheeks reddened. “You were! You were planning to come on to me, Elizabeth Dyson!”
“I said no such thing. I admit nothing. Just…we were both going to be here, and all the pretend stuff was going to be over and if whatever happened happened, and you let loose, and I let loose, I don’t know!”
She was turning adorably red, and I tossed down the activity sheet so I could grab both her hands, and pulled her close to me. With my mouth pressed near her temple, I told her the honest truth. “If I had somehow made it through those five months withou
t jumping you, there is no way I would’ve made it one night in this room, sleeping in the bed next to you without having to fuck the living daylights out of you.”
She hid her head in the crook of my neck. “You’re just saying that.”
“Swear to God. I would’ve jumped you so hard. You wouldn’t have been able to walk when you got back to the mainland.”
She looked up at me, her eyes blue and liquid like the ocean. “I worried about it sometimes. When I was still just wanting you all the time, and not sure what to do with it. I worried we would get here, and you would find some woman at the bar, that you would disappear for two weeks into someone else’s bed.”
I could feel her anxiety about it, how it once had plagued her, and I wished more than anything I could find a way to go back in time and let her know back then how much I’d wanted her too.
“And then sometimes,” she continued, “I’d imagine I was the girl at the bar. I wondered what that would feel like, to be picked up by Weston King.”
I leaned in to brush my nose against hers. I’d planned for us to order dinner to our room so that we could be alone, start getting to truly know each other, but suddenly I liked the idea of playing this game with her instead. It could be a much sexier way to accomplish the same thing. “Want to find out? Want to go be a girl at the bar, and I’ll be Weston King?”
She perked up suddenly, leaning back, her eyes wide. “Can we do that? Oh, let’s do that!”
She dropped my hands and started scurrying around the room, opening our suitcases, looking for things.
“You get ready first, and then go out to the main bar and order drinks and be you, and I’ll get ready and then come down whenever. You be Weston and I’ll be Elizabeth, and we’ll meet each other for the first time. As though we never had this arrangement. As though there was never an inheritance on the line. We’ll meet here in Hawaii, and we can learn all about each other and fall for each other. We can treat this whole trip like a do-over. Or not. You know. Whatever. What do you think?”
I tilted my head in amazement. It was like she’d read my mind, putting our real lives on hold while we dedicated this time to just us. In a way, this game gave me permission to put off the truth.
Was that an excuse?
Maybe. But she looked so excited and happy about the game, I was eager to cling to it, excuse or not.
So when she asked, “What is it?” I answered with a questioning lift of my brow.
“I still get to bang you, right?”
She giggled. “Everything is unscripted, but I’ll tell you now that I am definitely going to put out.”
“Then yeah. I like this plan a lot. I’ll get changed and then game on.”
“Oh!” She lifted her hand and wiggled her ring finger. “And I’m not taking this off. Everyone else gets to know I’m unavailable. You keep yours on too,” she added sternly.
“Mine stays,” I said, agreeing, wiggling my own wedding-banded finger. As far as I was concerned, I would be happy to never take it off.
Hopefully this honeymoon made her feel the same, and when I told her about my kid, she’d decide she wanted both of us.
7
Elizabeth
I disappeared into the bathroom to get ready. I left my hair down, working with the humidity, letting it fall into its natural waves. I left my makeup soft and natural.
When I came back out, Weston had already left, so I could get into my dress without him seeing me. I chose a patterned maxi dress in mostly blues and browns with a halter top, two long slits up the sides, and a price tag that would make Weston flinch. A final look in the mirror told me I looked good, but casual. Perfect for an island resort. I finished the look with strappy beige sandals with a chunky heel, transferred everything to a small clutch purse, and made my way toward the center bar.
The weather was nice, the breeze perfect. It was fantastic to be outside without a coat after the cold winter months back in New York. Normally I would feel awkward walking alone at a place like this, but knowing I was going to meet someone made me walk with an assurance and confidence that I normally only felt in familiar circles. I caught a couple of men looking at me as I walked by, and normally their gazes would send me spiraling into awkwardness, but tonight they just lifted my head higher.
When I got to the entrance, though, I paused. I’d never been a woman who hung out in bars just waiting for a man to pick her up. I’d barely even gone with a girlfriend to this sort of venue. I felt much more comfortable in lounges and places that served only wine.
I scanned the crowd from afar and quickly spotted Weston alone at a high top. He already had a drink, some island concoction in a fun glass that was a specialty of the resort’s bar, and was sipping it while glancing around, probably looking for me. He looked breathtaking as always, even wearing khakis and an untucked white button-down shirt. Part of me wanted to forget this entire ruse and just walk up to him directly, stick my hands up under his shirt and find the warm skin beneath.
He hadn’t shaved since the wedding, and his face had gotten scruffy the last couple of days. He looked different this way. The rugged look somehow made me feel wild with him. As though I could be wild and rugged like that just by proxy. As though this wasn’t a game at all, but a real chance at meeting the man of my dreams.
I knew what to do, what my mother would do, what all my friends would do. But I was still nervous. It was so out of character for me to go in there, beelining for the gorgeous, scruffy man alone in the bar. To stand next to him, take a sip of his island drink, and wait for him to offer to buy me one. This was how he picked up dates, not me.
Even though it was my idea, I hesitated.
He caught my eye from across the room, held it like a stranger who had just seen someone interesting. It was my cue to follow through, walk in, and introduce myself.
But just then drums began playing, and an overhead announcement said that the luau was now open for dinner.
I turned my head to the left where visitors were lining up to attend the feast. A bar wasn’t my scene, but a luau was something that Elizabeth Dyson could get behind. And if Weston and I were here to meet each other on real terms, with our real characters—no more pretending, no more acting, no more playing a part—then I would never have walked into the bar where he was seated.
I looked back to him where he was now watching me with a curious expression, then I headed over to the luau and got in line.
Other people got in line behind me, and I knew it would take a while before Weston caught up—he had to pay for his drink and make his way over, so I entertained myself by playing a game of Candy Crush on my phone. I didn’t look up again until I was at the cash register.
“One please,” I told the hostess, a dark-skinned woman dressed in a Hawaiian print dress.
“What a coincidence,” came a voice from behind me. “I’m by myself as well. I’ll pay for both of us.”
I lowered my phone as Weston handed over his credit card. Somehow he’d managed to sneak his way up through the line.
I looked him over from head to toe, taking him in as though I’d never seen him before. I remembered that even the first time I’d seen him he’d sent my pulse racing, and was surprised he could still do it with no more than a glimpse of those blue eyes. “Thank you,” I said, hesitantly. “That’s truly not necessary—”
“It’s not necessary, but it’s done.” He flashed his dimple as he took back his credit card and put it in his wallet, then stuffed it in his back pocket. “It’s my good deed for the day.”
“Well, I can’t argue with that.”
Another hostess led us through an arbor where luau employees were waiting with fresh leis. A stout island man placed one around the neck of the woman in front of us, then turned to grab another one and looked in my direction.
“Let me,” Weston said, reaching to take it from the man’s hands. He then came around in front of me and dropped the fresh chain of flowers around my neck. “You’ve been lei-
d,” he said, waggling his eyebrows.
I couldn’t help but grin. He really was charming. If I’d met him just like this, I would’ve been mesmerized.
I was mesmerized.
“Allow me the same honor.” I grabbed another one from the man, who smiled at us, and placed it around Weston’s neck. “You look good freshly lei-d.”
“I can’t possibly look as good as you. Getting lei-d suits you.”
I rolled my eyes, but I was still smiling.
Next we were ushered in front of a beautiful tropical floral spot where a photographer was waiting to take our picture.
“Oh, we’re not together,” I said, because we weren’t playing a part anymore, but in some way, we were. An alternate timeline part. As though we’d met here instead of months ago, and our matching rings were mere coincidence.
“The ticket was purchased together,” the photographer’s assistant said, confused.
I couldn’t help the laugh that escaped me at how silly we were being, but Weston kept it up, looking at me and shrugging. “What’s the point of a picture alone? Seems rather boring to me. I don’t mind if you don’t.”
“I suppose if you put it that way.”
He stood next to me and put his hand on my waist in a way that could have been considered overly friendly from someone I’d just met, or casual for someone I’d just married. The photographer said he would give us a countdown. On three I turned to glance at Weston and found him already looking at me, his eyes blue and clear, as though no secrets hid behind them.
The lightbulb flashed, and without having seen the proof, Weston said, “I’ll buy two.”
He arranged for the pictures to be sent to our room before leading us down a path to yet another host who offered to seat us.
Dirty Sexy Games Page 6