by Kim Karr
Me nodding. “I’ve never been more sure in my life.”
Her crying.
Everyone around us crying.
Signing papers.
Picking rings.
Deciding on witnesses.
And…and then finally us walking down the aisle to a crescendo of inspiring guitars and being pronounced husband and w—
Snapping out it, I felt for the wall to steady me. I’d lost my damn mind. I didn’t even do relationships well, what made me think I could do marriage.
Marriage.
I despised the institution.
Thought it nothing more than a death sentence.
I shook it off—it had to be a dream. No a nightmare. But then as I washed my hands, my gaze settled on that damn ring again, and I yelled, “Lindsay!” as I rushed from the bathroom, grabbing a towel as I left to wipe my hands.
I had to see if this was real.
She sat up, grabbing for the sheet and looking disheveled, but still more beautiful than ever. “What is it?” she asked, alarmed.
“Let me see your fingers.”
She let the sheet go and outstretched her hands.
And there, on her left ring finger, was a matching piece of metal. “We got married,” I stammered out. I didn’t so much ask the question as make a statement.
She nodded, and I think she gulped. “We did.”
I swallowed.
It was real.
I. Got. Married.
Her eyes went a little teary. “You regret it, don’t you? I told you that you would.”
All I could do was stare. I had never wanted to be tied to any one woman, and just like that, I’d begged for it.
What the hell was wrong with me?
I must have had Typhoid, or Malaria, or maybe Yellow Fever.
But I hadn’t traveled to a third-world country. I was in Vegas for Christ sake.
When I couldn’t answer, because I didn’t know what the fuck to say, she ran to the bathroom and closed the door behind her.
I ran a hand over my head and considered my options. Quite frankly, there were only two—remain married or get an annulment. By her reaction, an annulment would mean I would never see her again.
I straightened at that, the realization slowly creeping up my spine. The thought of never seeing her again caused disappointment to surge in my veins. It was a sensation I wasn’t used to. I didn’t really like it. Wasn’t sure I wanted to feel it.
With a thousand thoughts simmering in my mind, I knocked on the door. “Lindsay?”
I heard water running.
When she didn’t answer, I opened the door. “Are you okay?”
She nodded and turned, her hands gripping the counter. “We shouldn’t have done that.”
Was she regretting it as much as I was?
Was I actually regretting it?
I wasn’t so sure anymore.
The word wife didn’t seem to evoke that sick feeling deep in my gut like it always had. And the thought of marriage suddenly didn’t seem that bad. It wasn’t making me break out in a cold sweat any longer.
That had to mean something.
And the truth was, I wanted this girl to be mine.
But marriage?
Was I ready for that?
I had no fucking clue.
“What do you want to do?” she whispered.
I ran my palm over my head and just stared at her, trying to figure that out. To find the right words to explain to her I wasn’t sure. I just didn’t fucking know.
“James?” she said again.
The sound of her voice saying my name, the fact that no woman had ever made me feel the way she did, gave me the realization that yes I wanted to try this, that even though I may have been drunk when I proposed, the feelings behind the proposal had to be real. Sincere. Still, I couldn’t speak. I didn’t know what to do. I felt paralyzed.
Lindsay walked past me and went back into the bedroom. “I’m going to go downstairs and ask if there is some lawyer or someone to undo what we did.”
Panic rose up my throat. I couldn’t lose her. I contemplated what to do. And then, without thinking anymore, I rushed after her and found my words. “Maybe we should lie down first and discuss it?” I asked.
Her back was to me. She’d already put her top on, and she was just stepping into her skirt. She’d foregone any underwear. Fuck was she hot. That ass, that body. It was mine. That excited me. She was my wife. I wanted to bite my fist. We were married. That meant, well…you know what that meant. I knew I shouldn’t be thinking about this whole thing in terms of sex, but damn, I couldn’t help myself.
When she was finished dressing, she turned toward me. “Lie down? The plane is going to leave very soon, and we are married, and you want to lie down?”
She was all worked up, and fuck if I didn’t find it adorable. I flopped down on the bed and put my hands behind my head. “Yeah, lie down.”
Her gaze drifted down. I was still naked, and well, my dick had decided to make another appearance. “Are you serious? You want to fuck?”
I shrugged. “Yeah, consummate the marriage.”
Her eyes widened. “Do you honestly think that’s what we should be doing right now?”
“Sure, why not?”
She put her hands on her hips, and fuck me if I didn’t want her even more. “Because we need to decide what to do about this?”
“What exactly are we deciding on?”
She sighed, dropping her gaze in irritation. “The annulment. Us. Our future.” She sounded flustered.
I sat up, my dick still reaching for the ceiling. “The way I see it is, there really isn’t much of a choice.”
Her eyes narrowed. “I know that, James, and that’s why I’m going downstairs to find out what our options are.”
The corner of my mouth lifted. “Baby, it’s the weekend, and there isn’t much that can be done, so how about you slowly take those clothes off and dance over here?”
She drew in a huge breath, and then let it out. Did she know how much she was turning me on? “Now you’re telling me you want to stay married?”
I crossed on ankle over the other. “I never said I didn’t.”
“Yes, you did.”
I hadn’t, but I decided not to address that matter, instead I went at this a different way. “How exactly do you feel about us?” I asked.
She stared at me, dumbfounded.
I took the time to recall her beautiful naked tits. Tits I wanted to feel over and over. A body I wanted to worship. A pussy I wanted to own.
“Honestly?” she asked.
“Fuck, yeah.”
She bit her lip. I wanted to suck on it. “You might not like it.”
“That’s okay,” I told her.
“That I want to give this a try, but I’m nervous. The thing is, I’m not scared, though. That you’re a lot of man and I hope I can handle it. That I like the way you are with me. And about a million other things that might take me all day to list. What about you? What are you thinking?”
Slowly, I got off the bed and walked toward her. When I got closer, I lunged on the bed and pinned her beneath me. “I’m thinking that you were made for me. That I have no idea what it means to have a wife. That I might suck at being married, but I want to try too.”
Her breathing picked up.
I kissed her neck. “That I want to spend the day discussing your list.”
Her body shivered beneath me. “What else?”
I raised my brows. “That we’d better hurry up and fuck because we can’t miss that plane. Tomorrow is the Ashton family annual Christmas photo and I want you in it.”
She laughed. “I’m serious.”
I licked her neck this time. “So am I.”
“Are you sure?” she asked, a little breathless.
This time I sucked the spot where her pulse beat. “About the fucking? Hell yes.”
She broke free of my hold and shoved my chest. “No, about us.”
&
nbsp; I took both her wrists and stared down at her. “Yes. No. I don’t know,” I answered honestly.
“Me either,” she sighed, “but I’m willing to give it a shot if you are.”
“Oh, I am,” I growled and found her lips.
She laughed and then kissed me with a passion I’d never known before her, and a hunger I’d never felt before erupted. I wanted to own her. I wanted her to be mine. I wanted her in every way. And here she was—mine for the taking.
I pulled back. “I want you in the shower. Is that something a husband would tell his wife?”
She giggled. “I think it’s something you would tell your wife. And I think your wife would tell you that you can have her wherever and however you want her. She’s yours.”
With a grin, I stood and took her hand. “Fuck, I’ve never been someone’s husband. Does this mean you have to do whatever I tell you?”
She laughed. “No, but it means I can decide if I want to do whatever you tell me.”
I nodded. I could live with that. “I have a need to control. Can you live with that?”
“James, your alpha male tendencies were more than apparent within the first thirty seconds of my setting eyes on you. I wouldn’t be with you if I couldn’t handle it. If it didn’t turn me on. If I didn’t want a man like you. If I didn’t want all of you.”
“All of me,” I breathed, getting harder and harder with each passing second.
“Every. Single. Piece.”
We were standing just before the threshold of the bathroom when I scooped her in my arms.
“James, what are you doing?” she giggled.
I fucking loved that sound. “I’m not sure if I did this last night, but just in case I didn’t, I’m doing it now.”
“You’re crazy.”
I pulled up her skirt and set her on the counter, where I spread her legs wide. “Crazy for you,” I said as I bent to taste her sweet pussy.
“Oh, James,” she breathed.
That was a sound I wanted to hear from this day forward. And for the first time, I didn’t think marriage was so bad.
I had hooked a catch, and I wanted to keep her. In fact, for the first time in my life…I wanted to be tied down.
Who knows, maybe even start my own family. Speaking of family, my mother might not like the fact that I’d gotten married. On second thought, might isn’t the right word. Won’t is definitely more fitting. No matter, I could handle my mother.
The need to high five myself struck. This marriage thing was going to be a piece a cake. I mean come on, somehow I’d missed the fact that marriage meant endless pussy. Now I finally got why Noah had done it.
Endless pussy.
Boy, I couldn’t have been more wrong on all fronts.
Just as I’d surged my tongue inside her, there was a banging on the door. “Come on, we’re waiting for you.”
Lindsay jumped off the counter and pulled her skirt down. “Come on, get dressed, we have to go. I’ll go tell them you’re coming.”
She kissed me and then she was out the door. Alone in the bathroom, I stared down at my cock. “Sorry sport, looks like I don’t even have time for some palm action.”
How was it, when I wasn’t married, I never walked around with a hard-on, but on the first morning of entering the holy institution, I was spending it sporting wood?
I should have seen that as an omen.
Chapter 4
Home Sweet Home, Or Not
Lindsay
The flight back to New York City was much mellower than the flight to Vegas.
Everyone was quiet or sleeping, including James, my new husband. The word had the tomato juice from my Bloody Mary sticking in my throat.
What had we done?
Exhausted, I leaned against the window and tried to fall sleep, but my mind kept telling me I was an idiot.
I opened my eyes and glanced over at him. God, he was so good looking, and smart, and confidant. Then again, he had been born to be a leader. But husband material, I wasn’t so sure.
In the short time we’d known each other, I’d come to learn that James Ashton was a Harvard graduate and real estate heir. He’d acquired his real estate license shortly after grad school and was now wheeling and dealing with the bigwigs. The Ashtons were also philanthropic, and with his father on sabbatical, he was responsible for helping his mother with their family obligations.
What the hell was I doing with this man?
He’d grown up with a silver spoon in his mouth for God’s sake, and I had grown up scrounging to find a plastic one.
He was so out of my league.
Sure, I’d made it as a model, and making it is half the battle. My face and body graced the covers of not only Victoria Secret catalogues, but some foreign fashion magazines too. Occasionally, I even strode down the runways for up and coming fashion houses. But I was no supermodel.
Although James would call me that until the end of time.
Sure, I’d come to learn the ins and outs of Manhattan’s elite, but in no way did I belong in high-society. I could never fit in. I wasn’t a blue blood. I didn’t grow up being driven around in fancy cars, going to private schools, and walking along the always clean sidewalks of the Upper East Side. And I certainly was no debutante.
James opened his eyes. Caught me staring. He studied me for a long while, and then he leaned close. Taking my hand, his palm slid over the top of my knuckles. “Tell me what you’re thinking about.”
The man was lethal. With every touch, he seduced me, and I doubted he even knew it. Or maybe he did. Maybe he knew exactly how to get what he wanted, and that was the problem. He wanted me, but for how long?
I wasn’t insecure by nature, but I’d heard some of the girls talking about him in the bathroom at the airport. They’d said one woman would never satisfy him. He was an animal that couldn’t be caged. That eventually he’d grow tired of me, and venture out. “Just give it time,” one of them had said.
The problem with giving him time, was that with each passing day, I’d grow more and more attached to him, and then when he finally did tire of me, I’d be the one hurt by all of this, by one drunken night in Vegas that probably never should have happened.
I shifted uncomfortably under his close scrutiny. I didn’t want to have this conversation here. It was too intimate. Too personal. Too private.
“Things,” I simplified.
“What kind of things, Lindsay?”
It was clear he wasn’t going to back down.
“I’m wondering how we’re going to make this marriage work,” I said, finally relenting.
“What do you mean by that?” he prompted gently.
I blew out a breath. “We come from two different worlds, and as if that isn’t bad enough, we don’t know a thing about each other.”
“That’s not correct,” he grinned. “I know you like it when I kiss you right here,” he slid his mouth behind my ear.
I threw my head back. He did know that.
“And here,” he slid his lips down my throat.
I purred a little.
“And I know how to make you come,” he whispered.
My head popped down, and my eyes flashed. “Marriage isn’t only about sex,” I whisper yelled.
He’d been caught off guard by my outburst, I could tell by the way his eyes narrowed. After a moment, he brought my hand to his lap. “I know that, but off-the-charts chemistry is a starting point, don’t you think?”
“I’m not sure. What if it turns out I’m not enough for you?”
“Did I say or do something to make you think you wouldn’t be?”
“No, but—”
He shook his head. “No buts.”
I looked around the cabin. “These people know you better than me, and I overheard them talking about you. About what you are like. What you need to be happy. And I realized I really don’t know you at all.”
“These people don’t know me. They only think they do. They’re wrong, but you�
��re not wrong, you don’t know me,” James said.
“Exactly! Then why didn’t we stay in Vegas and get an annulment? Why go through all of this?”
His brow lifted. “Are you saying this has been meaningless?”
“No. Yes. I don’t know. I guess what I mean is why did you want to stay married?” I asked, my lips trembling as I stared back at the intensity in his eyes.
“Because I want to be with you. It also means you belong to me. And only me.”
He had no idea how deep his words affected me. I’d never belonged to anyone, not even my parents. But I could see how much he could hurt me, and I wasn’t sure I was willing to risk it. “That’s not the definition of a husband,” I quipped.
“No, but right now it’s a start,” he murmured. “At least give me that.”
I licked my lips, my chest rising and falling with my rapid breaths. He had a point. It was a start. It wasn’t the ‘Once upon a time,’ fairytale romances were made of, but it was something. And besides, it’s not like I knew how to be a wife. I did, however think I might have a better idea of what that meant than James.
He curled his fingers tighter around my hand and squeezed gently as he gazed down at me.
Finally I conceded and grinned up at him. “Yes, I can give you that.”
The flight attendant stopped at our aisle and offered us each breakfast. Both of us remained quiet while the plates were being served.
Once the flight attendant had served us both juice and coffee, and retreated, James took a bite of his scrambled eggs and said, “Now, tell me more about you. You’re a supermodel, obviously.”
I shook my head. “I’m a model.”
He shrugged.
I picked up my fork and also took a bite of the eggs. I hadn’t realized how hungry I was, and I quickly took another bite.
“Do you like it? Modeling, I mean,” he asked.
It was a personal question, but then James didn’t seem like the sort of man who worried too much about boundaries. “It’s the only job I’ve ever known. I’ve been doing it since I was sixteen, and it usually paid the bills.”
“Where the hell were your parents?” James demanded.
I blinked at the ferocity in his gaze and the anger brimming from his eyes caught me off guard. “I never knew my father, and my mother wasn’t always capable of taking care of me.”