RECKLESS (A Whirlwind Romance)

by Vanna King

  My phone rings. I almost don’t want to answer it, but it’s Duncan, the casino manager.

  “Boss, Dylan Bradley just hit a million dollars at the high stakes table.”

  Fuck. Bradley is the best poker player from Cali, and he wants to take my millions tonight. In his fucking dreams.

  “Who’s dealing?”

  “Brock.”

  “Pull him out and put Amelia in.”

  “Amelia, Boss?”

  “You heard me. Tell her to wear a strong perfume and show some tits. Call Annika to send her best broads, have them prance around Bradley’s table. Distract the fucker. He’s not getting another million, you hear me, or I’ll have your balls spinning on a fucking roulette.”

  “Y-yes, Boss.”

  I cut the call. Fuck, I’m losing it.

  LEIGH

  “Wow. Look at you.”

  I can see what Aria sees in the full-length mirror.

  I look awesome in my wedding gown. It’s a magnificent one of a kind piece by Vera Wang. Costs a fortune, too. I would have wanted a simple, off the rack number but Mom would have none of it, and Bill approved of my mother’s choice.

  If only I’m a blushing bride for real.

  “Hey, are you alright?” Aria’s sympathetic voice breaks into my melancholic musing.

  “I don’t know, Aria.”

  “You’re thinking of him.”

  I don’t answer. I always think about him. Every hour. Every minute.

  “Leigh, what if…what if he’s the right man for you?”

  I breathe out a hollow laugh. “Aria, don’t talk like this a few hours before my wedding.”

  “But girl, there’s still time to change your mind.”

  “In my wedding gown with everyone arriving at the church in a few hours?” I shake my head. “I don’t think so.”

  “As long as you haven’t uttered ‘I do’ yet, there’s time.”

  “We’ve discussed this before. That was a fantasy. It was over the day I left Vegas. Now, this,” I gesture to my gown, “is my reality.”

  “But…I just can’t help wondering what if—“

  “No what ifs. He was Mr. Wrong. He was…I saw him in action, Aria. He had women hanging onto his arm. Beautiful and unbelievably sophisticated-looking women. Supermodel type. I couldn’t even believe he ended up with me that night when he had those women.”

  Aria shrugs. “He found you special.”

  “Maybe a novelty for the night. But he’s a player, a very sophisticated one. I don’t think I can compete with those women, nor can I survive his lifestyle. Parties like that, not my thing. I’m a simple girl, you know that.”

  “Hun, you’ll never know until you see him again.”

  “You’re such an optimist. Come on, it was Vegas, the Sin City. I’m sure he’s already forgotten about me. He’s not the type who’d go after women. Women go after him.”

  “You said you got along just fine.”

  “He did get me. No man gets me right away, not that l’ve been exposed to a lot of men in that manner, but we communicated so well…and I was…I was happy with him. While it lasted, at least.”

  “Who knows? Your precious virginity might have left him a big impression.”

  I roll my eyes at my best friend. “Ha-ha.”

  “You know, men who’re into casual sex would find a woman who’s pure as the driven snow kinda unique,” she says cheekily.

  “Shut up.”

  She shrugs. “What can I say? I’m a romantic. I’m a sucker for HEA.”

  “You and your HEAs. They don’t always happen. Proof? Me.”

  Aria falls silent. “You’ve fallen in love with this man, haven’t you?” she asks me after a while.

  “That’s beside the point,” I reply, the invisible noose around my neck getting tighter. “And it doesn’t matter anymore. Not after today.”

  “Well, well, well, look at you!”

  My mother walks into the suite.

  “Ready for some pictorial before we head to the church?”

  I nod at my mother.

  “You look incredible, Leigh. Just perfect.”

  Aria discreetly leaves the room, so Mom and I can have some privacy.

  “You’re so beautiful, honey. Bill will be so proud to have you as his wife.”

  I try to smile. It’s hard when my heart is breaking into a million pieces.

  “Thank you, Leigh. You have no idea how you’ve made me and your father so happy. We love you so much.”

  “I love you, too, Mom,” I whisper, fighting the tears that threaten to ruin my flawless make-up.

  That is the bottom line of it all.

  Love.

  BRON

  I pace my office, waiting for Davis’ call. He’s my go to guy when I encounter web problems, especially with our online gaming system that operates worldwide. I’m counting on him to locate Leigh.

  I feel worse than yesterday. I barely sleep. I only eat because I need to. I missed my workouts, and that’s fucking sacrosanct. I know when I miss a workout that I have it bad. Really bad.

  Jerry, my personal assistant, comes in.

  “Sir, I want to remind you to check your mail. You haven’t checked them for days. They’re on your table.”

  “Anything important?”

  “Just the usual from your banks. But there’s a wedding invitation for you.”

  “A wedding invitation?” I get invited to events around Vegas all the time, but seldom to weddings.

  “From Bill Peyton.”

  I nod. “Thank you, Jerry.”

  Jerry nods and leaves the room quietly.

  I call Davis. “Any news?”

  “None, Bron. But I’m really trying—”

  “Try harder!”

  “That would be hacking into every airline security system to get their passenger list on the day she left. We’re not even sure if she left by plane. Maybe she’s just from around the neighboring states. It can take a while —“

  “Do it. Hack into everything. Get me all the info of every woman that fits her description.”

  “But Bron—“

  “Do it. I’ll cover your ass.”

  I cut the call. I rake my hair with my fingers, sighing deeply, fighting the desperation that’s threatening to overpower my sanity. I had this crazy thought that I’d get over her as the days went by, but I was wrong. I want her more than ever.

  I can’t live without her.

  There. The scary truth. And I’ve long ceased to be scared of anything. Not even death. But the thought of not seeing her again is—

  No. I will find her. I will!

  I sit at my table, looking at the stack of unopened mail.

  I pick the wedding invitation, staring at it. I still haven’t decided on what to do with Peyton. Luc can’t be bothered by it. And I can’t be bothered, too. Not until I find Leigh. Everything else is secondary to that.

  Peyton-Spencer Nuptials, it says on the envelope. My name is printed on it. Peyton is actually inviting me to his fucking wedding.

  I shake my head, opening the envelope, curious to know about the people connected to Peyton. They could influence my decision.

  There’s a silvery paper inside with a picture of a couple. Peyton and his beautiful, much younger fiancee—

  My blood freezes in my veins.

  I blank out for a bit, then my adrenaline rushes. The pounding of my heart is almost deafening.

  I check the wedding date.

  Christ!

  She’s getting married today! This afternoon!

  I check my watch, then I call my pilot, Jackson.

  “Have the jet ready now. We’re flying to Chicago.”

  “Now, Boss?”

  Yes, right fucking NOW!”

  Chapter Eleven

  LEIGH

  I’m riding with Aria, my maid of honor, and my three bridesmaids in a stretch limo going to the church. They’re chattering animatedly, their laughter echoing around me, but I can ba
rely hear them. They all sound so distant.

  Every minute seems to stretch like a lifetime. I can’t wait for this whole shebang to be over, so I can start serving my jail time.

  I’m becoming an overly dramatic twit.

  I need to be optimistic. I have to be productive in the next five years. I’ll take my masters right after the wedding. Then my PhD. I’ll spend the next years studying, filling up my resume with enough credentials so that when I’m free again, I’d be more than ready to take charge of my life, forge my path in this world.

  Yes! Five years won’t be so bad.

  The door of the limo opens.

  A man climbs in and sits beside Aria, facing me.

  My eyes go wide in shock, my entire body, freezing.

  The other girls in the limo gasp.

  He smiles at Aria, who’s as shocked as I am, her bouquet clutched to her chest tightly.

  “Hello, ladies. I’m sorry, but you all need to step out,” he drawls like he’s just casually dropping by to say hi.

  “Who are you?” Aria manages to squeak out.

  “I’m Leigh’s boyfriend.”

  Aria looks at me quickly. I’m still too shocked to speak. Everything is happening like a slowmo before my eyes.

  Bron is here. In Chicago. In this limo!

  Another man is already pulling Aria out of the vehicle. Another one has opened the middle door and barks at the girls to get out. They all obeyed in fear.

  “Oh God, are you kidnapping us? Please, we’re going to her wedding,” Aria is saying, her voice, frightened.

  “Nobody’s going to hurt you, ladies. You will all get to the wedding, I promise,” Bron calmly states.

  Before I know it, the doors slam shut and the limo moves again.

  I’m now alone with Bron.

  Stupefied, I stare at the man who’s been starring in my dreams and fantasies for a week now. Not a day has passed that I didn’t think about him. Now he’s here, sitting in front of me. I still can’t believe it. What is he doing here?

  “Hey, goddess. You look…enchanting,” he drawls, his eyes hot as the sun, his voice, smooth as honey.

  His stare scorches me. The ice of shock melts away, replaced by heat. I can’t fight my instinctive reaction toward him.

  God, I’ve missed him looking at me like that. I’ve missed him. Period.

  “So, you’re getting married.” It’s a statement. His tone is accusing as if I betrayed him.

  I’m still too stunned to gather my thoughts coherently. I can only stare at him, my hormones going into overdrive, just like the first time I laid eyes on him. Only him can elicit this effect on me.

  His overwhelmingly masculine presence fills the limo, shrinking it. The black suit he’s wearing only makes him exude more power and authority.

  I clutch a fistful of my gown tightly, curbing the urge to touch him. I’m getting married. I’m in my wedding dress. I have no business missing him. I can’t want him anymore. My time with him is over. OVER!

  He should have just stayed in Vegas.

  But he’s in downtown Chicago right this minute, aboard my bridal car and he’s looking at me like the first time he laid eyes on me.

  Hungry.

  Posessive.

  He wants me.

  And God, I want him so much my core is already churning with longing.

  He leans forward. “I can see you’ve missed me.”

  He sounds so sure. I feel defensive now that he can read me so easily, but I can’t deny it. I’m not a very good liar.

  He bends to hold my ankle, lifting my leg, bringing my foot clad in royal blue pumps adorned with delicate sequins and pearls toward his face.

  He licks my ankle. I gasp weakly, melting all over. My pussy swells with rapidly awakening desire.

  “I’ve missed you, too, goddess.”

  Then he’s between my legs, pushing my gown up until it’s bunched around my hips in a thick heap of lace and satin.

  I can’t move. I can only stare at him.

  I’m almost completely exposed to him except for the little white thong I’m wearing. I feel more vulnerable now than the last time we’ve been together. In Vegas, I was behaving minus the rules. It was a fantasy fulfilled, but it belongs in the past.

  This is my real world, my real life, and it has strict standards of decorum. Bron has no place in it.

  I’m getting married today, I remind myself again as I watch him staring at my lace-covered pussy with pure lust on his face. His breathing becomes raspy and uneven. “I can smell you.”

  I’m sure he can. I can smell myself, the film of sweat starting to coat my skin. I’m hot. Burning. Wrung tightly with the arousal he so swiftly ignited, and it’s consuming me fast I’m losing my mind in acute need.

  But he doesn’t touch my pussy. His palms caress the sides of my legs clad in a pair of white stockings. He traces the blue garters on my upper thighs, a reminder that I should push him away and scream bloody murder. He’s ambushed my wedding, and he’s taking me to only God knows where. But for the life of me, I can’t move. I can’t stop him from what he’s doing. And I don’t want to. I think I’m going to scream if he doesn’t touch me where I’m dying to be touched.

  “You look delicious, goddess…and I’m going to eat you.”

  His words, so familiar. He pushes my legs further apart, folding them to my sides, opening me wider for his scrutiny. His face is so close to my pussy, and I want to die in shame as my body betrays me.

  He palms my mound and squeezes, sucking in his breath. “You’ve soaked your panties, goddess. Is this for me?”

  I can only nod repeatedly, unable to stop myself from grinding my groin against his palm. He’s not touching me enough. I want more!

  “Bron,” I finally find my voice.

  “That’s right, say my name.”

  He tugs hard, and my little lace panties come off quickly.

  My heart is about to burst with the rush of excitement pounding inside of me. I can hardly breathe from anticipation. His thumbs trace the puffy lips of my aching pussy. Oh God, I’m going to die if he doesn’t do more. He spreads my nether lips wide until my clit is sticking out. I could feel my heartbeat in that little bundle of nerves.

  “So beautiful. You have the most tasty looking cunt, baby.”

  “Please…”

  “Please what, goddess?”

  “Please, kiss me.”

  “Where?” he deadpans. “You want me to ruin your make-up?”

  I glare at him.

  “Tell me, Leigh.”

  “Kiss me there.”

  “Ahh, you want me to kiss your pussy.”

  “Yes, yes, damn you!

  Grinning smugly, his face descends between my legs.

  His tongue goes to work. Hot. Wet. Silky soft. So nimble. Gliding over my flesh. Flicking over my clit. Fast, slow. So so good!

  My eyes are riveted between us, watching him eat me, moaning incoherently. He’s ravenous, lapping me up like his last meal.

  “I missed your taste. So fucking delicious, baby. Uhmmm.”

  My clit swells harder at his words, my inner muscles aching to be filled, to clutch and squeeze at something hard.

  His cock. I want his cock.

  As if he could read my mind, he stops to unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants. He releases his cock. It springs out, thick and hard, the large tip wet with his arousal.

  I think I’m going to expire with the need ripping through me. He grips the base and shakes it. “Did you miss this, baby? Did you miss my cock?”

  I make a pathetic sound.

  His finger enters me. I gasp, my hips jerking, my inner muscles clamping tightly around his thick digit. It’s not enough. I whimper. “Bron, please…please!” I puff, opening my legs wider to give him more access.

  “I’ve missed your tight, beautiful cunt, baby. I’ve missed fucking it hard. Stretching it wide with my big cock. Coming inside you,” he croons to me as his finger moves in and out of me.


  His words are meant to torture me, and he knows it. My hands move toward his cock. “Keep your hands at your sides,” he commands.

  I obey like a little girl, helpless and almost in tears with need.

  “Tell me. Tell me how badly you want me to fuck you, goddess.”

  “I hate you!”

  He smiles like the devil and rubs the head of his cock on my wet folds. I whimper. It feels like he’s painting with a blazing rod on my super-sensitive flesh. My clit throbs harder in tandem with my rampaging heartbeat.

  “You want this? You want my big cock inside you, goddess? Say it!” He rims my opening, swirling fast, the friction of our rubbing flesh creating a squishing sound, filling the small space that has shrunk tighter, closing us in this box of desperate need.

  It’s so dirty, the way our genitals are touching and we are both still fully clothed. We’re not even kissing.

  My hands grab the sleeves of his suit, gripping tightly. I’m climbing fast to the peak.

  He suddenly pushes hard.

  I gasp loudly.

  My small opening resists. But I want him so badly I’m dying with it. I want him inside me, so deep inside me!

  BRON

  Her little cunt grips my cock head, and I give a guttural groan at the sharp pleasure of feeling her stretch to accommodate my thickness. She’s virgin tight again. Fuck, I swear this pussy is going to kill me one day soon. Nothing has ever felt this good.

  I push deeper, and she opens up, swallowing my cock. Deeper and deeper.

  I stare at her face as she takes me. So fucking beautiful. I want to mess up her face, smear her lipstick with my kisses but I don’t. She needs to face a lot of people later to break off her wedding. But my cock is inside her, and that’s the most important thing right this minute.

  I push harder until I’m buried to the hilt.

  Her hands grip my forearms as I hold her hips.

  She’s grinding her pelvis, starting the dance. She cannot even wait for me, my horny goddess.

  I mean to go slow but she’s not asking for slow, and I don’t think I can go slow anyway, not with her cunt clasping my cock like her life depends on it.