Married. Wait! What?

by Virginia Nelson

  “When did you come back?” she asked.

  “After one. I’m sorry. I ran into your father in the lobby and he summoned me for drinks. He talked a lot, and I couldn’t just ditch him.”

  “Okay. Hmmm…” she glanced down at the tray. “Bacon. This is an obvious sign the rest of my day will be amazing.”

  He lifted a piece of bacon and she opened her lips. Soon, the crunchy meat slid into her mouth, and she tasted the warm, salty flavor. When she finished, she licked her upper lip, and realized he’d been watching her, his gaze darting between her lips and eyes.

  “What?”

  “I never considered eating pork an erotic experience… until now,” he said, looking at her like she was the main mean of a starved man.

  A wave of heat spread across her face and neck. She reached for the glass of water took a sip, desperate to cool her ardor. “And here I thought a guy like you had seen it all.”

  “So did I,” he said softly, then blinked and stood up. “So. I was supposed to drop you off two nights ago, and go back to my place. Now, I need to go back and you should come with me. Since we’re married.”

  “Thank you,” she said.

  He nodded. “I’ll let you finish eating and gather your stuff.”

  * * *

  An hour later, he opened the door of a penthouse in an exclusive area in Vegas. She walked into his domain, appreciating the modern décor with a few traditional touches. The dark hardwood floor added warmth to the set of buttery leather sofas and the state-of-the-art entertainment center.

  “I’ll put your stuff in the guest room,” he said. “My drawers need some overhauling.”

  Did he mean she’d also be sleeping in the guest room? The question burned on the tip of her tongue, but she hesitated. “Thanks.”

  The doorbell rang, and she almost sighed out loud. She opened it, and found a slim, tall woman in her sixties wearing an elegant suit and an Anna Wintour-type hairstyle. “May I help you?” she asked as if she worked in a designer store and that lady was her most exclusive client.

  “You must be my son’s new bride. I’m Katherine, his mother.”

  His mother. Of course. She had the same eyes as Beck.

  Feeling silly, Clarissa stretched out her hand. “It’s so nice to meet you,” she said. During their drive from NY to Vegas, he hadn’t talked much about his parents or childhood. So, Clarissa opted to leave out any I’ve heard so much about you bullshit.

  Katherine gave her a firm handshake, with a smile.

  “Please, come in.” Clarissa gestured for her newish mother-in-law.

  Before she said anything else, she heard Beck’s footfalls. Would his presence make it less or more awkward? “Mom. I didn’t expect to see you today,” he said.

  Katherine arched her eyebrow. “I know we’re to have our weekly lunch tomorrow, but when my friend Jacquie told me she saw you entering a chapel with a woman, I just had to make sure and see it for myself.”

  “Of course… meet Clarissa Garubo,” he said.

  “Anderson. Remember, honey?” I’m Clarissa Anderson now. She winked at her husband, who sadly still saw her as her father’s daughter. Her heart raced at the base of her throat. Why did that matter so much?

  Katherine placed her Chanel bag on the console table, and turned around. “Garubo? As in Antonio Garubo?” she asked, and even though the elegant lady didn’t flinch, a pang of surprise leaked into her voice. Clarissa knew such reaction well.

  “Yes,” she said at once.

  “Interesting,” Katherine clutched her pearl necklace. “When did you two meet?”

  “It’s a long story,” Beck said.

  “Then make it short,” Katherine said, then a vivacious chuckle filled the air. “I mean, this is a shock to me. Weren’t you going to tell me? I didn’t even know you were dating.”

  Beck shook his head, and sighed with frustration. “Mother, I’m not seventeen. You don’t have to know everything.”

  “How about some coffee? Or a mimosa? A shot of tequila?” Clarissa asked.

  Katherine sat on the couch. “If my son got married without me, I might need all three.”

  Clarissa nodded. “I’m sorry this is so sudden. We’re planning on throwing a bigger party for friends and family. And of course we’d love for you to be part of it.”

  “Mom, can I speak with you in private?” he asked.

  Clarissa watched him take his mother to what she assumed was his home office. She wondered exactly what he’d tell Katherine—the truth or their version of it. Clarissa headed to the kitchen, for a moment pondering on mixing tequila, mimosa and coffee into one train wreck of a drink. Why couldn’t he just talk to his mother in front of her?

  Because this isn’t a real marriage. He doesn’t owe me anything. She had pushed for the marriage, to have a better chance at taking what was rightfully hers and protecting her mother’s legacy. But, for the first time, a pang of disappointment moved through her.

  Beck closed the door.

  His mother’s visit had lasted longer than usual. Clarissa had been the perfect hostess, and ordered some delicious Thai food for them to enjoy while they talked. His mother didn’t believe him at first—and he almost told her the truth.

  The truth, however, meant he was a lot like his father. So he had just said he’d fallen irresistibly in love with Clarissa and in an uncharacteristic way, decided to take the plunge and marry her. When you know, you know. Wasn’t what people said about love and relationships?

  By the time his mother left, he saw in her eyes a twinkle of hope. She personally didn’t support his decision to get hitched so quickly, but she probably understood why a woman like Clarissa swayed him.

  Gorgeous, intelligent and kind. He supposed he could do a lot worse in a fake marriage.

  “Your mother is nice. Didn’t she ever remarry after the divorce?” Clarissa loaded the dishwasher. The sight of a woman doing chores in his place was both confusing and surprisingly alluring. The only woman who came near to his dishwasher was the housekeeper. He never dated domesticated types, and Nancy hadn’t enjoyed spending time at his place. She preferred to eat out, where they discussed their cases and work related stuff.

  “No. She had a hard time after my dad left her for wife number two,” he said, wishing his voice didn’t sound so damn sad. Until his tenth birthday, his father had been his hero without a cape. He’d looked up to him, even if he was usually busy with his successful law firm. After the selfish way his father had simply left them, a lot had changed.

  Clarissa shrugged. “I understand. My father never remarried either. Maybe he should have.”

  “Marriage isn’t for everyone,” he said.

  Clarissa closed the dishwasher a tad harshly. “You’re not the marrying kind, are you? Is this making you uncomfortable?”

  He found an empty glass of wine, and splashed some water in it, washing. “I don’t oppose marriage. My father married a lot, and didn’t really care for the women who committed to him after he was no longer interested. I always told myself I wouldn’t make his mistakes.” He picked up the glass and dried it with a paper towel. The glass was shiny, clean, transparent—like a healthy relationship.

  She angled closer. “You’re not your father, Beck.”

  “Really? How can you tell?”

  “Because from what you said, your dad is a pig. You’re a guy who has principles,” she erased the remaining distance between them.

  “Like wanting to bang a woman thirteen years younger? Where are my principles now?” he said. It should have been a joke, but tension charged and thickened the air between them. The previous night, all he wanted was to fuck her and claim her virginity. Finally, they were alone again.

  She winked at him. “You don’t have to be flawless. A little bit of wrongdoing is okay in my book.”

  “Besides,” she whispered, her gaze colliding with his, “I have it on good authority such woman wants to be banged by you..”

  Beck groaned. “
You don’t know what you’re asking,” he said, outlining her lips with his index finger. The moment he touched her, a shot of electricity charged up his arm, fast-tracking all his cells. Awakening his libido, and stirring it up.

  Clarissa parted her lips. “But, I want to know. Oh, I want to so bad.”

  He pulled her to him, and soon his hands slid over her delectable ass. His erection poked her, but this time he no longer cared. The previous night hadn’t worked out, but why not try again?

  She linked her arms around him, and he growled. A possessive need moved through him, giving him no choice but to lift her from the floor. She giggled as he hooked his arms under her knees and scooped her up. Soon, their lips locked again, and the kiss became more urgent, visceral, raw. His cock swelled, squeezed in the confines of his underwear and slacks.

  As he put her down on his mattress, on his bed, Beck gave himself a mental high-five. He’d worried sleeping with her would complicate things, and possibly jeopardize his partnership. Wouldn’t his situation be more difficult and vulnerable the more intimacy he shared with her?

  An invisible bubble of excitement and joy burst in his chest. He didn’t know what the future held, but looking at this gorgeous, vibrant, determined young woman who wanted to share her body with him—he knew it. Even if things got complicated, shit, it’d be all worth it. She was worth it, and he refused to fight that feeling.

  5

  Clarissa moaned.

  Beck removed her clothes, quickly, without much fuss. She loved every minute of it, the luxurious sensation of her naked body pressing the silky linens. He pulled his shirt out of his head and flung it across the room, then continued to undress himself with swift, efficient moves.

  When she faced his bare chest, she gasped. Whoa. Smooth, well defined and muscly. She could tell by his broad shoulders and large frame that Beck worked out, but his torso had so many planes and ridges, she’d need a destination map to explore.

  Her gaze trailed down, and her eyes reached her hairline at the sight of his glorious, gigantic cock. She’d seen dicks before, during a couple of heavy petting sessions with a couple of guys she’d dated, away from her aunt’s claws. None of them came close to Beck’s.

  “It’s all for you, baby girl,” he said in a low voice that sent shivers down her spine.

  She chewed on her lower lip. God, was she up for it? He was—definitely—up for it…

  He covered her body with his, the hardness of his body brushed against the softness of hers. Man and woman. A groan fled his lips, the evidence he felt it, too. He wanted her just as much as she wanted him.

  She linked her arms around him, and lifted her head to meet his. He captured her lips in his, provoking a short-circuit in her system. Her nipples puckered, her breasts heavy and full. “Beck.” She called him between kisses.

  He lowered himself on her, kissing her chin, her neck, the valley between her breasts. She sensually arched her body to him, her silent, shameless offer. Of course, Beck had other plans…

  She caught a glimpse of his wicked grin when he disappeared between her legs, and nudged her thighs apart. She drew in a breath, unsure if she should let him continue or suggest they just got the first time over with.

  “Relax,” he said, probably sensing her insecurity.

  “I want you so much, I’m afraid I’ll let you down,” she said, hating herself for saying those words.

  Beck lifted his head to face her. The moment her gaze met his, a part of her melted foolishly. Deliciously. There it was, that dangerous flick in his gorgeous eyes. The look of a man who couldn’t wait to feast on his woman.

  She nodded at him.

  He descended between the V of her thighs again, and French kissed her pussy.

  A shot of arousal, stronger than the one from before, traveled through her bloodstream. He flicked her clit with his thumb, and a succession of moans fled her mouth. God. He ravished her in the most carnal and intimate way a man could a woman.

  She remembered when she watched a cable movie with Aunt once, and the actors suggested oral sex. The mere suggestion had her aunt shake her head and change the channel until the scene had changed. Back then, in her early teens, Clarissa had wondered why the bitter woman made such a big deal.

  Now, she knew. Beck lapped his tongue at her, licking her wet folds without mercy, as his thumb teased her clit. She squirmed under his touch, moving her head from side to side because stillness wasn’t an option. Not when extraordinary sensations filled her to the max.

  “Beck… this… is… oh.” She tried to string words together, but he intensified the playing with her bundle of nerves until the pressure built so much it exploded inside her, within her, though her.

  She called his name, moaning, feeling like some sort of adult star actress after finishing a coveted scene. His touch on her made her sexy, cherished, passionate. He stood up, and rolled a condom on his cock.

  He covered her again. She wrapped her legs around him, ready to welcome him. He placed the tip of his cock near her entrance, and the simple contact belted a wave of desire through her. “I’ll be as slow as possible.”

  She squeezed his shoulders. “Slow only makes me want you to go fast.”

  He kissed her nose. He began to thrust into her, and her oxygen suddenly was in short supply. He peppered kisses on her cheeks, forehead and at last, lips. She guessed he did so to divert the discomfort of his deepening thrust. When he drove himself past her breach, a sharp ache stabbed her.

  “How are you doing?” he asked, and stopped any movement.

  She glanced at him. He offered her a grin, but the contours of his face hardened, his eyes dilated. Obviously, he tried to exercise his self-control—even a newbie like her understood.

  She’d never experienced this… fullness before. Her slick walls stretched, adjusting to him. At last, he moved again, withdrawing himself from her. Did he change his mind?

  She parted her lips to speak, then he surprised her by plunging into her, this time making her pussy throb in a different way than it had when he broke her hymen. She bit her fingers into his shoulders, bringing him closer, and loving having him inside her.

  “You’re so tight, baby. I’ll try to go all the way in.”

  All the way in? “I thought you already were.”

  He chuckled. “Off by a few inches. Almost there. I don’t want to hurt you.”

  He slid his hand down to her pussy, and began teasing her clit again. Her shoulders sagged on the mattress. A moan of pure delight fled her lips, and he withdrew again, to return into her quickly—he filled her more. Deeper. Harder.

  He hissed out. “Fuck yeah.”

  Sweat slicked his forehead, arms and legs. She scratched his back each time he thrust into her. The pain gave way to pleasure, to the electrifying awareness of him. He intensified the flicks on her clit, his strokes in tandem with how he drove himself inside her sex. She felt the same pressure from earlier returning—starting in her core, then soon bubbling and bursting through the rest of her body. Overwhelmed, she let the powerful waves of climax ride her, her body quivering.

  He increased the pace, and soon he gave her one last, powerful plunge as he threw his head back and groaned.

  For a while, they remained silent, their limbs entangled. She played with his hair, enjoying the after-sex bliss. He was still inside her, and she didn’t want him to move. She knew he had to—to dispose of the condom, of course. Yet, the nearness to him was addictive.

  “I feared this would happen,” he said, breaking the silence.

  “What?”

  He propped himself on his elbows and stared at her. His eyes seemed… kinder. “We’d have sex, and I’d no longer be mad at you.”

  “Do you think this was part of a coldly executed plan to make you forget everything else?”

  “I don’t know. I do think being with you makes me forget everything else,” he said, and her heart sung in response.

  “Then we should forget together. For as long as
we can.”

  “I’m home,” Beck announced as he walked into his apartment. For the past three weeks, he’d become more eager to make home in a reasonable hour than he’d ever been. Clarissa had a penchant for over-the-top reality shows and she tended to leave her hair products scattered all over his bathroom countertop. So far, those were the only downsides of having her around.

  He bit back a smile. A few bridal magazines crowded the coffee table. In a week, they’d get married in a church. Her father had insisted on it, and Clarissa and his mother had planned the ceremony together.

  “You’re early,” she said, coming from the bedroom. She had on a white robe, and her hair fell on luscious waves down her shoulders.

  “I missed you,” he said, pulling her to himself.

  She hugged him and stood on her tiptoes to kiss his chin. “Hhhhmmm…”

  He opened her robe, and slid it off her tempting body.

  “I was going to cook dinner.”

  “We can order in.”

  She flashed him a delicious smile. God, how had he come to be addicted to this woman… Smart, determined, and sexy as fuck.

  Clarissa embodied the need he never thought he’d had.

  He braced her against the wall, and kissed her hard, their tongues melding and swirling together. The past weeks, he’d screwed her many times like this—immediately after work, with her naked and he, fully dressed, against the wall or leaning into some furniture.

  She touched him, her hands hovering around his chest. “You did miss me,” she said, as his hard-on pressed against her bare flesh.

  He shouldn’t give her so much control as to tell her his emotions. Growing up, he always preferred to preserve them rather than expose them. She brought a side of him that just didn’t care.

  “I think you should be recompensed for all your hard work.”

  She turned around and slammed him against the wall, then lowered herself on his body until she kneeled in front of him. She unzipped and pulled down his pants, and he moaned. Clarissa hadn’t needed much lessons to become a pro at oral sex.