by Jo Raven
Jason washed my face with a damp cloth and dried me off, then ran his fingers through my wild hair until it was smooth again and kissed my nose. “Good as new, sweetie.”
“Hardly.”
“You’re always precious.”
“Whatever.” When we exited, I was really, really confused to see people clapping and hooting for us. Do they know I’m a virgin drinker? First hangover ever?
“Congratulations, husband and wife,” some unfamiliar lady said, beaming from ear to ear.
“What?” The clamor picked up and I blocked my ears because it was killing my head. Crap. Shut up! When it simmered down, I let go of my head, but Jason started arguing with Brian over the fact that we were not actually married because whatever we did was just a drunken joke. We were kidding. Right, we were kidding. If anything, we were making a mockery of vows, not exchanging them.
Brian said, “I spotted you, bro. You owe me a hundred and fifty bucks.”
“For what!” Jason yelled.
“The officiator. He ranted about getting stiffed on the extra gig. I know you’re good for it.”
Same lady, said, “Yeah, he was so ticked. He wouldn’t leave until he got paid.”
“Paid?” Jason said, shaking his head. “For what? We didn’t fucking get married! We were joking.”
Others said the same, confirming that as the truth. No matter how Jason and I saw it, everyone believed it was as real as the wedding that actually happened. They all saw the adoration we actually held for one another, in our gazes, in our dancing, not to mention our not-so-sneaky getaways into the corner, that, at the time, I’d had no concern with. Now all that action had my face on fire. The real truth was Jason didn’t want me and he never ever would.
My head was spinning. I sat down before I fainted. “No. We can’t be married,” I insisted to Jason, looking him in the eye. “We can’t.”
He tugged me up by my hand, pulled me into a bedroom and closed the door. “Look, we’ll figure this out. It’s a big mistake. We both know that. We were drunk and it’s all bullshit.”
“Yeah, marrying me, faux or not, is bullshit.”
“You know what I mean. Neither of us knew it was real and that’s gotta count for something. We can get an annulment or whatever. We’ll deal with it.”
“Okay. We’ll get over this hurdle so you can continue flogging countless ladies.”
“That’s not fair. You know that’s my job. Because of club domming and performing, I never even bothered finishing college, so my skill set and professional experience is limited to those two things.”
I groaned. “Okay.” I dotted the tears at the corners of my eyes. “I know that. I just feel like such a moron right now. I don’t understand how this happened.”
“This’ll be okay. We’ll fix it.”
Jason left to talk to his friends to try to figure this out, and I flopped back on the bed in misery. This was wretched, not to be married on a fluke exactly, but to be latched to a guy who didn’t want any kind of commitment at all.
Maybe fifteen minutes later, he came back and helped me up.
I groaned, clutching my head.
“Come on. Let’s go back to our room. You can rest there and I’ll rub your back if you want or leave you alone in the dark, whatever you need. We were bombed last night. According to bystanders, the livid officiator was satisfied to get the fee he was demanding and said he’d submit paperwork to the county. So, I don’t know what that means or what the fuck it’s about. This is the same county where we live, so when the office opens on Monday, we can go down and talk to someone. We’ll get this sorted out, get an annulment or something, don’t worry.”
“Yeah,” I sighed. “It’s a totally muddy mess though. I mean, us, hitched? That’s laughable.”
He squinted, looking like he had pain between the eyes when I said that, but it was damn true.
Back in our room, I crashed on the bed and cocooned myself in covers. I’m not sure how long I was in my cave, but when I woke up, I felt a lot better, not that nauseous and the light was no longer agony. I only had a mild headache.
We soon packed to check out. On the two-hour drive to his place we talked about his music and plans for his album. We did not discuss our current state of matrimonial misery.
When we got back, we snuggled, watching TV, reclined on couch. The whole time I fought back tears. He wasn’t in the mood to play kinky. Me neither. I felt more isolated than ever when I shut myself into the guestroom.
It only took fifteen seconds with my head on the pillow for rain trails to forge on my cheeks. With our sham of a marriage that would implode as soon as possible, I curled up and closed my eyes to try to sleep for the last time in my loaner bed. My pulse became a swifter rumba. God, already, I missed that hard body. I could see his pecs that I was just leaning against. My respiration became huffy with the fantasy of working my way down and ripping his jeans open. I flopped around and squeezed my thighs together to squash the buzz of titillation. Clutching myself between the legs, I licked my lips and looked at the closed door. Damn.
That wall of muscles was probably on his back in bed, hands behind his head. I wondered, naked, underwear, naked, underwear? I was tired of wondering. I had to know. I padded over to peek out to see if his door was open. But when I opened mine a crack, I saw thigh, hip, nipple, eye. Breath ripped out of me as I stepped back. I gulped and shivered as he swung the door open with his fingers. So naked. But the sexiest thing was his ogle. He wanted me too. I now had the freedom to burn hot without sin or guilt, and even though we weren’t everlasting with our junk vows only spoken in inebriation, I didn’t care. I wanted Jason. And I wanted him now.
He was clearly on the same filthy track as me but said, “Just came to say goodnight.”
“Naked? … Liar.” I lifted my nightgown up to my waist, but he didn’t wait for my teasing display.
He rushed me and ripped it off over my head. In the next move, he crushed me to his body and drove his face to, capturing my mouth with a groan. He picked me up and I wrapped around him. We tore at each other in amorous lust as our tongues skidded and rolled in a demolition derby.
“Aahh, Jason.”
He carried me back to his room and smashed us down onto his bed. We lost breath and practically drew blood as we made out. His teeth and tongue went ferocious on my neck.
“Jason! I want you so bad.”
He stopped attacking me to look in my eyes. “Nah, un uhh. I wanna hear you say it. Say it.”
“Fuck me, Jason. Fuck me please.”
“Hell yes.”
I lifted my hips and he slipped my panties off and sent them sailing. He came back to me, rolling the tip of his cock along my entrance.
His roaming hands set me ablaze. Finally, he was gonna give me the white-hot bliss I’ve been craving. I clawed his ass to prod him to thrust in and not make me wait any longer. But that was a terrible plan. He pumped to work the tip in, and when he slid in an inch beyond that, I cried out in pain.
My walls clamped around him with a grip that had him moaning dirty things in my ear, but I dammed sobs behind a clenched jaw. Oh god, it hurt, it hurt so bad. I eventually broke and wailed, “Ohmygod, oww, oww. Dammit. Shit.”
“I’ll go slower. I’m sorry.”
He tried sliding in again. I dug fingernails into my palms and bit my lip so hard it bled.
“Jason! No, it hurts, it hurts.” We hadn’t even really started and I was praying for the pain to just end. “Crap. Stop.” I blubbered with tears springing into my eyes and choked on my ruddy exhale. Feeling like a total failure, I broke down and sobbed. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I wanted to, more than anything, I did, but it hurts so bad. I can’t.”
He just stayed in me not moving and kissed my brow. “It’s okay. We don’t have to. I fucked up.”
“No I did. Get off me. I’m horrible.” I shoved him totally out and off me and darted for the bathroom. I slammed the door. My breathing was a mess. “Shit. I suck.
I’m the worst lover ever. Not sexy at all. I’m so pathetic. I can’t even take a dang cock.”
He knuckled rapped on the door and I locked it. I blasted the shower.
Dammit. That has got to be the worst fuck, no half-fuck, he’s ever had. I never assumed I’d be such a miserable flop.
“Will you shut up with all that nonsense? It was me, not you.”
“Go away, Jason!”
“I’m telling you, it was my fault. I didn’t take the time to get your body ready. I forgot.”
“You can’t make me feel better. I’m awful, and we both know it. Go away!” I stepped into the piping hot stream and covered my hands with my face as sobs gurgled out.
He growled in frustration and I heard his mass bump against the door.
This was hellacious! I wanted to be sexy, dammit! I slaughtered his fantasy of claiming my pussy with a shitload of lousy reality. He’s been aching to pop my cherry for days. Bet he never anticipated such a damn disaster. Not even I imagined that I’d so totally suck! And I do. I’m the worst lover ever in the history of mankind.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Jason
Nothing I said appeased Shayna. She stayed in the bathroom all night. I haven’t been with a virgin since high school, and I honestly forgot how much more important it is for the girl to be slick on her own, swelled, and visibly aroused, like with perky nipples and slightly redder flesh.
I slept on the couch so I wouldn’t miss her.
When I got up, I knocked on the door. “Shay? You all right and awake?”
The lock clicked and the door edged open. She was looking down and had arms crossed over her super-hot tits. “I’m fine, Jason.”
“You don’t look fine. You look like shit.”
She lifted her chin and glared at me. “Thanks! I’ve just been upset.”
“For what? I told you, it wasn’t your fault. We shouldn’t have rushed the act. Feeling horny does not mean being totally cock-ready. I forgot that. I let my lust cloud my brain and rob you of what should’ve been an amazing first time. I’m sorry.”
That made her tear up. Shit. I’m terrible at rectifying screw ups. She smoothed her hair with her fingers. “We suck together. Everything between us keeps getting worse and worse. We make too many mistakes. Are we done shooting?”
I nodded. “Yeah. Think we’ve got everything. I’ve got my drum piece finally, so I’m gonna mix today and start piecing the vid together. It’s looking hot. Thank you so much for helping me.”
“Thank you for helping me.”
“For hurting you? That’s all I seem to be doing.”
“You haven’t hurt me, Jason. I just totally hate that I’m not as sexy as you thought. It drives me nuts that you can compare me with other women and that I come up severely short.”
“Let me tell you, Shayna, you exist in my mind unmatched. You are beyond compare.”
She cried into her hands. “How it that even true?”
“It just is. Shit, Sunshine, don’t cry. Please. You are gutting me.” I tugged her into my mass and her arms eventually wrapped around my torso.
She held on tight. “I want to be sexy for you, really sexy. I’m not done with you, Jason. I’m gonna blow your mind.”
“Every word you say, every stroke of your fingers, blows my mind. You have nothing else to prove.”
She pulled back and left a firm smack on my chest. “Maybe to you. But I need to be sexy in a way I can feel and give you a hot blast with that girl, at least once.” Sad Girl was gone. Strong Girl flicked her away with a wave of determination. Hot.
“You’re always sexy, even when you’re pissing me off. You hungry? I’ll make us some eggs. I have so much to do today. Wish I could help you get going, but I’m strapped for time. We can figure out this whole marriage debacle tomorrow and talk to a county clerk.”
“Marriage debacle. Brutal. And here I thought you liked chains. Sure, I can go for some eggs, Asshole.” Her term for me made her chuckle, so I let it stand as a glittery gemstone rather than the bratty smack it was intended to be. “May I get dressed?”
I smirked at her. “Only if you put on that leather thing.”
She gave me a captain’s salute and winked at me. “With pleasure, Sir.”
When she reemerged looking more Domme than sub in the throat-and-back-lacing corseted jaw-dropper, I couldn’t stop gaping as we ate breakfast.
After, she snaked her body and let out a string of chocolate-cake ohs and ahs, drawing my fingers into the mix, even though we really didn’t have time to play. I took pics of her posing all porny for me, and put her whole digital diary on disc for her. We flipped through the pics.
“See? Beautiful.” I kissed her fingers after she took it from me. “I’ll miss you being in the next room over.”
“I’ll miss you licking my clit to mind-blowing climax.”
“Shayna, shit, you are so bad.”
“That was my evil plan all along,” she chirped.
I bent and gently kissed her glistening bits goodbye and watched her dress.
Then, she was gone, taking my heart with her. I ached in the loss of her presence. I was gonna see her tomorrow. What the hell was wrong with me?
I called Logan to let him know about the mugging and to see if they were back yet. I had this sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach that danger could meet my doll. Letting her out of my sight at the moment could be a huge mistake. I should’ve let her stay. Logan said they were due back this afternoon. I needed to stop worrying. Damn.
I worked my ass off all day, which served as distraction as much as it was a compulsion to see it all gel. The mixed song ended up stunning and sensual, with the deep bass drum as a heartbeat that thumped in variance throughout and her sexy moans, shit.
I felt like a wimp after I ate a late dinner, because I could no longer stand the severing, the silence. I cracked and called Shayna on the new TracFone I bought her. “Hey, baby.”
“Miss me already?”
“Conceited much, Sunshine?”
She laughed. “Learned from the best. I’m fine, Jason. I mean, I feel like shit, but I’ll be okay.”
“I feel like shit too. My song came out so amazing. You’re gonna love it.”
“Play it for me.”
“No. I wanna see your face when you hear it. Know those dirty noises you made for me on Wednesday? Ohmygod, they add so much drool-worthiness to it. You are one filthy saint.”
“Well, all thanks to the Dom I had. He really dug in there to pull out the best from me.”
Had? Past tense? I loathed that. “Damn right,” I steely said without an ounce of conviction.
“How’d the video splicing go?”
“Great. It’s comin’ together nicely.”
“Awesome. Let me know about tomorrow, if you need me to go to the clerk’s office or whatever. I’m free all day.”
Had. I didn’t want a ‘had’. I was burning mad at myself for still being annoyed and for craving a have. I needed to get away from this bitch, this drug I was totally addicted to, quit cold turkey. “Kay. Bye.” The words, “Love you,” breezily flew off my tongue. I’d already hung up when the weight of them rammed into me. Love her??? “Ohmygod! Shit!” I kept cursing myself out for not only letting that slip but for even thinking it at all. Was it true? Totally true? Maybe. And we’re married. I should want to be free of her, but in all honesty, I didn’t. I loved our unfortunate bondage, it forcing me to keep what I was terrified to. I don’t want to go to down to that damn office. I don’t want to be annulled.
I suddenly remembered that a sub who frequents the club was some kind of clerk. She might be able to fill me make sense of this and tell me what needs to be done. Think I have her husband’s number. I searched for Randall Jensen, her cop husband, and scored. I got his wife’s number easily from him and was on my way to answers.
When she picked up, I said, “Hey, Sherry. This is Jason from XX?”
“Hi, Master J. Everything all right? Nee
d help with a Daddy/little tea again?”
“No, this isn’t club related. It’s a personal thing. I have some questions about marriage.”
“Um, okaaay.”
“Uh, a friend and I attended a wedding in the county and got smashed and made a mockery of saying vows in front of the officiant who did the wedding. He’s not a native English speaker, so he assumed we were really getting married. One of my friends paid the dude because he ranted in fury about us trying to rip him off. So, now, I’m married to a girl I’ve only known for a week.”
“Wait. Did you and your ‘friend’ apply and pay for a license beforehand? The waiting period for approval and pickup here is three days.”
“No, we did not. We never did that.”
“Then you will be pleased to know that what happened is not considered a legal union according to the state. I don’t know what the officiant was thinking, but what he did was illegal. A couple can’t get married without that. Plus, you need to be lucid. If you were clearly drunk, then no ceremony should have ever been performed.”
“So, if some piece of paper shows up at the county’s office stating we’re married, that’s null and void? It’s shit?”
“I don’t know what paper you mean.”
“I don’t know either. My friends said the dude said he’d send in a paper.”
“He must have meant a license, but if you didn’t get one by proper means, with signed witnesses, then I wouldn’t worry about it. If you ever do want to get married, you’d have to do it correctly for it to be legitimate in the eyes of the state.”
“I just want to clarify that we are definitely, one-hundred percent not married.”
“Yes, that’s what I’m saying. You are not married.”
Shit. “Okay. Thanks, Sherry.” I gritted my teeth and kept cursing. I know I was supposed to feel free and relieved, like a big aaaahh inside or something, but hearing the truth crushed me. I rubbed my face with both hands and huffed as my hands curled into fists that I ground against my forehead. What the hell was wrong with me? I don’t actually want to be ball-and-chained to her, do I? We don’t even know each other that well. Shit. Oh my god! I had sex with her! Shitty sex. I took her virginity with junk! I made her cry and feel un-sexy with my rush to feel her tight squeeze. Uh, I felt sick. How’m I gonna tell her? Look into that face and say, “No, sorry, you’re not my wife. I fucked you, horribly, when you’re not even mine to have and to hold.” I kinda wanted her to be though. Mine. All mine.