“I’ll send in your mother.” He stands up, gently disengaging from my arms. “You look beautiful, Bea.”
Mom doesn’t even ask why I’m crying when she comes inside with the makeup artist. I look into the mirror, hating the sight of my swollen red eyes.
Fuck.
Finally the makeup is finished and I look like the most miserable bride ever. The guests, I keep reminding myself. They have no idea this is a sham.
A soft knock at the door twists my insides, and suddenly it opens to admit a man wearing a handsome tux. I stand up suddenly, knocking over a can of hairspray with my elbow. It clatters noisily on the wooden floor and Johnny smiles as it rolls up to his feet.
Fuck. What is he doing here?
“I’d like to have a word in private, if you don’t mind.”
Mom gives me an anxious look over Johnny’s shoulder as she opens the door and disappears behind it, leaving me alone with him. Apprehension knots in my stomach as Johnny glances at the door as if to make sure it’s shut, and then he gives me a warm smile that I distrust immediately.
“I—ah wanted to apologize for how I behaved at dinner the other night. My wife—your cousin—wasn’t too happy with how I treated you. I’m sorry.”
The knot in my stomach loosens slightly, but I don’t stop white-knuckling the chair. I scan his smooth face. “It’s okay.”
Johnny smiles briefly before taking a chair beside the vanity and sitting down. He motions me to do the same. I sit down gingerly, my legs like springs. He takes the chair leisurely and places his hands on his knees, leaning in slightly.
“I also wanted to talk to you about your future husband.”
God, that’s what Jack is, isn’t he?
“What about him?”
“I need this marriage to work. As long as both sides need each other, we’ll have peace.”
“Just as long as I stay with him.”
Johnny doesn’t miss the glumness in my voice. “I know he’s a difficult guy—”
“You’re wasting your time. I can’t leave Jack any more than he can leave me. The MC cut me off.”
He bows his head, hiding his surprise. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
No, you’re not.
“If everything goes well, maybe you can visit Maya on a regular basis.”
“The Maya I knew never needed permission to hang out with her family.”
He clasps his hands together as a smirk widens his face. “That was before she got married to me.”
Screw you.
“Stop acting like I’m the bad guy. Our families were at war, and I don’t trust you yet. I can’t have you around my son.”
I bristle instantly. “I would never do anything to hurt a child!”
“It’s nothing personal.”
Like hell it is!
“You have no idea what it’s like to be a parent.”
I want to break something. “Why the hell are you here?”
“To give you an incentive, hon. Help me calm Jack down, and I promise you time with my wife and our son.”
My heart crashes against my ribs. I miss her— God, she’s the only friend I have now. “What do you mean, ‘Calm him down?’”
“Jack’s been going through some rough times after the death of his brother.”
Blood rushes to my head at the mention of him. The men wearing leather cuts. One of them looked both ways down the hall before entering the room, which was dark. The nurse’s screams still echo in my ears.
Jesus fucking Christ.
“I’m hoping that having a wife will take the edge off some of his behavior.”
“He—he really wants to find out who did it.”
“Yeah, I’m looking into it.”
Johnny’s voice blackens and a pain hits me square in the chest. If they knew what I knew, there would be no mercy. From both sides. I swallow hard and force myself to look at John.
“Anyway, just get close to him. Calm him the fuck down. I’m not expecting a miracle, but I’d really appreciate it.”
I give him a stiff nod. “I’ll try.”
I doubt I’ll be able to make a dent in his behavior.
Smiling, Johnny stands up just as the wedding march begins, and my stomach takes a sickening turn. My throat thickens and I brace myself on the vanity, breathing in deep, shuddering breaths.
“Oh shit. It’s starting.” His grin falters as he watches my face. “All right, I’ll get out of here. Congratulations,” he adds quickly.
“Thanks,” I say as he disappears behind the door.
I stand up, shaking as I hold the bouquet. Jesus. Why did I agree to do this? And why the fuck did we have to have such a big wedding?
I enter the room where all my bridesmaids are waiting for me. Maya, my maid of honor, squeezes my hand right before she leaves. Then the doors open and my dad appears at my elbow and I’m half hoping that Jack fled, but he’s right there. He’s wearing a gorgeous tux with a bright-yellow handkerchief in his pocket, just like the flowers I’m holding.
Don’t faint.
Everyone stares as I make my way down the aisle, and I wish that I could vanish on the spot. What a fucking nightmare. It’s all constructed—the flowers, the priest, even the groom standing at the altar, looking like he’d rather be anywhere but here. Dad gives me away and Maya takes my bouquet, and then there’s nothing between Jack and I. His face looks drawn in and pale, as if he spent last night drinking. Can’t say I blame him.
I barely listen to the priest, only remembering when I’m supposed to nod and mutter meaningless phrases. Jack says something about “pledging my eternal love,” which we both know is bullshit. He slides a ring on my hand and then his clean-shaven face comes within centimeters of mine. The moment I feel his breath on my lips I lean forward, irresistibly drawn to the taste of him. Shocks of pleasure zap down my spine as he kisses me. The crowd screams with delight. Before I can really savor it he breaks away, blanched. We walk down the aisle, hand in hand.
Holy fuck, we’re married.
The chaos follows us all the way to the street, but the whole thing is so dispassionate. Every movement is calculated. Jack opens the door to a Mercedes and I climb into the backseat, picking up my dress. He turns and waves to the others, and his smile disappears the moment he joins me. My ears still roar with everyone’s cheers. They echo inside me hollowly.
Jack looks ill at ease. I think about Johnny’s plea and I look at my surly, discontent husband. I’ll have a better chance taming a lion than him.
We sit in silence for a few minutes.
“I need a drink.”
He almost gives me a smile. Then he digs the champagne from the ice bucket in the backseat. The cork pops loudly and he shakily pours two flutes of bubbly, golden liquid, handing one to me.
“Congratulations, I guess.”
I guess.
We clink glasses in what must be one of the most depressing cheers ever and then we drink. Jack inhales his glass. My nerves refuse to flatten, even as Jack pours a second drink for me and I gulp that down, too. I hold mine out for another, but he shakes his head.
“There’s nothing more tacky than a drunk bride.”
“So you can get drunk but I can’t?”
He grins as he downs another glass. “I can hold my liquor.”
’Cause you’re a drunk.
“It’s the only way I’m going to get through tonight.”
“And what about me?” I begin in a heated voice. “How am I going to get through it?”
Jack sets his drink down and slides over the seat so that his thigh presses against mine. I feel the shock of his touch like an electric jolt. His mouth breathes over my ear. “You’ll get through it and make me look good, or you’ll be punished when we get home.”
I look at the ring glittering on my finger. It’s beautiful, but everything feels so wrong. Every dream I had about my life is destroyed, and I did it to myself.
“Jack, I need to know that everything will be all right. Please.
I can’t do this unless—”
“—Everything will be all right,” he says, deadpan. “Do you feel better now?”
No.
“You should. This is the best thing that could happen to someone like you.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“You’re out of the MC.”
“Assuming we don’t get divorced or this alliance blows up in our faces.”
“Yeah. In that case, you’d be fucked.”
Hating him, I slide down the seat to get away from his touch. How can Johnny expect me to have any sort of influence on this man? He doesn’t fucking care about me. At all. I might as well be a piece of furniture in his house.
I can’t stand him, and he hates me. What a promising start to our marriage.
The car stops and I take his hand as he helps me up, a fake, beaming smile on his face.
Fuck you.
The reception hall is just a giant, windowless room. I’m grateful that we have a sweetheart table to ourselves so that we can hate each other privately, but it’s still awful.
I sit down next to him. He’s the picture of what the perfect husband should look like. His brown hair is rolled back into gentle waves, exposing his face. He’s rough and angular, but he has a heart-stopping smile that makes butterflies flutter in my stomach. There might’ve been joy in those brown eyes once, but it’s long gone by now. He’s a beautiful, bitter shell. In pain. He grabs his glass of wine and drinks and drinks, surrounded by people he despises. The guilt surfaces again, and this time it’s worse because we’re married.
I know who killed his brother.
He smiles when everyone clinks their forks to their glasses and then he turns to take my face in his hands. Gentle lips touch mine and a fiery jolt hits my core. It would steal my breath away if I didn’t know that it was pissing him off. We break away and sit back in our seats.
“Look at that fucking jerk.” He points to Johnny, who gives him a wide grin as he joins in with the heckling.
“You have to stop talking like that! He’s the boss.”
Jack looks like he wants to say something, but he holds back, tipping a larger gulp of wine down his throat. Then he grabs me again to kiss me, and they shut up.
It’s a fucking nightmare of an evening.
I smile until my teeth hurt, picking up my dress to dance with Jack on the floor. He looks completely checked out. The alcohol makes him fluid, but I’m still a nervous wreck. When we return to our seats, the clinking and hooting starts again and I’m about three seconds away from losing it. My face stretches and I’m trying to smile. Smile, damn it.
A heavy arm suddenly lies on my shoulders, and Jack grasps my hand under the table, giving me a squeeze.
“Just think of it as a party.”
“This is worse than I imagined.”
Jack gives me a grim sort of smile, which grates when the clinking starts again.
“That’s fucking it!” he roars.
He stands up, looking like he’s out for blood.
“Get up.”
“Where are we going?”
I stand up with him and he grabs me hand, and I’m surprised at how purposely he strides forward, given how fucked up he must be. We walk right past all the clinking glasses and silverware, and right out of the reception hall.
Jack cranes his neck, looking down the halls for an escape. “Here.”
“We can’t just leave.”
“It’s my wedding. I can do whatever the fuck I want.”
He tugs me along and I follow him, my heels noisy on the marble floor.
“In here.”
He pulls me through a set of double doors, leading us straight into the busy kitchen. Cooks wheel their heads around to see the bride and groom standing in the middle of the stainless steel room.
“What the hell are we doing here?”
“Finding somewhere quiet…and private.”
I don’t trust the wicked grin that flashes on his face as he reaches in a tall jar and grabs a long wooden spoon.
The head chef approaches Jack, who takes a few hundred-dollar bills and slips them quietly in his hand. “If anyone disturbs us, I’ll shove a gravy boat up your ass.”
Then he opens a door to the pantry and tugs me inside, closing the door in the chef’s bewildered face.
“What the fuck are we doing here?”
Jack taps his side with the wooden spoon, which I eye warily. “You ask too many questions.”
He’s in a weird mood. I back up, passing rows of dried pasta and cans of vegetables until my back hits the wall.
“Give me your body, sweetheart. I’m going to take you right now.”
He closes the space between us, and my heart jumps into overdrive as he slides his arm around the back of my neck and draws me into his body. I lift my head up, unable to resist the authority ringing from his voice—the cologne he wears, so male and aquatic, rolls over me like the alcohol we drank. Then I kiss him, sealing my lips against his. He reaches behind me, undoing the laced-up back as his tongue slides inside my mouth. His fingers burn my skin when the back peels away.
“Fuck. Look at you.”
But I’m looking at him, and my mouth waters at the raised bump in his slacks. I reach for it, my palm flattening against his rock-hard cock as he pulls my dress down. It slides over my breasts, which he gives a quick kiss, then down my stomach and to the lacey panties I bought. His fingers scratch me slightly as he drags over my bony hips, and then I gasp as I feel the warmth of his tongue briefly on my pussy.
I’m completely naked.
He straightens as I bend down, stepping out of my wedding dress and carefully folding it on cans of soup.
“You’re really going to fuck me in a pantry?”
His slightly damp hand grabs the back of my neck as lust invigorates his movements. “I’ll fuck you wherever and whenever I want.”
My muscles twitch as I feel the wooden, flat surface of the spoon gently tap my ass.
Why am I letting him do this to me in a pantry in the middle of a kitchen, of all places?
I can’t answer that. All I’ve been thinking about these past few days is being filled by him, the very breath knocked out of my lungs with his powerful thrusts, and how damn good it felt.
I touch his chest and undo some of his buttons, but he makes a tutting sound and pulls my hands away.
Roughness grates Jack’s voice. “You’re going to get on your knees and you’re going to suck my dick.”
The wooden spoon taps my shoulder, and I feel a sudden urge to seize it from him and whack him over the head with it.
“Either you do as I say, or we go back out there. Let’s face it, you’re going to have a better time sucking me off than attending your own wedding.”
True.
Somehow this dirty shit really does get me excited, or maybe it’s the fact that the last time I had sex was a couple days ago and it’s all I can fucking think about.
A smirk tightens his face as I slowly drop to my knees.
“That’s a good girl.”
It’s condescending as fuck, but some sick part of me likes the amusement in his voice.
The belt unloops from his slacks and it slides in his hands. He lets it fall to the floor with a loud jingle and then slides down his pants, rolling his dark briefs over his thick cock.
“Did you miss it?”
He grasps the back of my neck, and my lips bump against the pearly sheen over his head. Damn it, it turns me on to see how hard he is.
“Did you spend the last two days touching yourself, wishing you had something bigger to fill your tight cunt?”
His husky voice strikes me right to my core, and then his fingers tighten in my hair, demanding a response.
I raise my head and meet his gaze, wrapping my hand around him. “Yes, I did.”
Then he takes the wooden spoon, stroking a line from my ass, up my back and neck. The coarse wood presses against my cheek. I follow its pressure, turn
ing my head against his shaft. Then my lips open and he slides in with a small groan. His cock buries deep in my throat, his blood pulsing hard through the vein throbbing on his shaft. It turns me on to feel him getting into it. My heart pounds against my chest as he starts thrusting.
“I love your mouth when it’s stuffed with my cock. You have no idea how hot you look right now.”
He pulses in my mouth and then suddenly I feel a sharp sting on my ass. Jack grins at me, the wooden spoon tight in his fist.
Did he fucking spank me with that thing?
The round shape of the spoon burns on my skin.
I fist his cock and slide him out of my mouth. “What the hell are you doing?”
“I told you to suck my cock.”
He reaches down and grabs himself, aiming between my lips and groaning loudly when I take him in again. He doesn’t miss a beat and rams himself hard enough to make me gag.
He fucks my mouth, occasionally ripping that wooden spoon across my ass. It burns like a son of a bitch, but I’m thrilled. He just can’t help himself.
I swirl my tongue underneath his shaft, spreading my mouth wide as he pulses inside me. I grab his muscular thighs and slide my hands up, grabbing his firm ass. I know it’s fucking insane that I’m giving my husband a blowjob in this pantry, but holy shit, it’s so hot. I can forget that we’re here when he moans loud enough for the cooks outside to hear us. I can even forget that I can’t stand him.
Suddenly he pulls my head away from his body and he slides out of my mouth. His face twists as if in agony and then he pulls me upright. His arm wraps around my tits as his cock slides between my legs. My legs tighten around him, my back against his body as his breath billows over my neck.
“Show me how much you want it. Show me how much of a cock-hungry slut you are.”
Holy fuck.
My clit is on fire as he gently thrusts and I watch his cock slide in and out between my thighs, slick with my juice. My head wrenches to the side and his hot lips crash against mine. I just want to turn around and slam him against the wall. I’m so worked up, and he keeps groping my tits and squeezing my nipples. Somehow his roughness on that sensitive area feels so fucking good, and I buck against his cock.
My pussy rides against his shaft as I bend over and grind on him. He gives a groan that vibrates through my body, striking my core.
Property of the Bad Boy Page 6