by Nia Arthurs
“Your parents are only one case though.” She huffs out a breath. “And they’re the exception. Reality is reality. I just don't see marriages lasting anymore.”
“Happy marriages still exist.” I ease closer to her. “And watching my parents taught me something else.”
Her eyes dip to my lips. “What?”
“You can have commitment, respect and honor in a marriage,” I rub my thumb along her bottom lip and gently tug, “as well as passion.”
She swallows audibly and tries to pull her bottom lip between her teeth.
I press my thumb against the maroon flesh and pull it down. “That’s a bad habit.”
“You’re a bad habit,” she murmurs. And then her eyes widen. “I mean…”
I laugh. “No, it’s true.”
Her lips part slightly as I continue to rub on them.
“You deserve better, Asia.”
“Than Thad?”
I nod.
She wraps her fingers around my wrist and pulls my hand back. “Than you?”
Yes.
No.
I don’t freaking know anymore.
There’s a ring on her finger.
My ring on her finger.
And with every second that passes, I don’t want her to take it off.
The tension between us mounts as we stare at each other.
She’s studying me. Like I’m some test she can’t figure out.
My phone buzzes, forcing me to break our heated gaze.
It’s Tierra.
T: On our way. Everyone’s coming.
I curse under my breath.
“What’s wrong?” Asia cranes her neck so she can see my cell phone.
I show it to her without reservation. “A warning.”
“Everyone?” Asia cringes. “Like… all the couples from Venus’s wedding last night? Lucas and Ina? Elizabeth and Brogan?”
I nod.
Her voice rises in pitch. “Amina and Matt? Nellie and Jonas? Tierra and Brett?”
“You remember all their names?”
“I need to go.” She pushes up from the table.
“Whoa.” I snatch her hand before she can make a run for it. “Sorry, sweetheart. You vowed to stay by my side, remember?”
“When?”
“When we got married.”
“We’re getting that annulled,” she snaps.
“Until then,” I lift her hand and wiggle the diamond, “in sickness and in health, right?”
“You’re evil.”
“Then I guess that makes you Mrs. Evil.”
She groans. “I can’t meet everyone looking like this. At least let me go back to my hotel.” Her face brightens with a smile so gorgeous it knocks me off-balance. “I’ll just grab a change of clothes and be right back.” She flutters her eyelashes. “Okay?”
For a second, I can’t remember my own freaking name. She manages to get two steps away while I’m locked in her Asia-induced daze.
This woman is very, very dangerous.
Thankfully, I return to my right mind and stand in her way. “There’s a boutique here.”
“No thanks.” She tries to charge around me.
I cut her off again. “My treat.”
“Big no.”
“We’re married. What’s mine is yours.”
“We’re not married.”
“Consider it a gift then.”
She plants her hands on her hips. “For sleeping with you?”
My lips twitch. “I don’t pay for women to sleep with me. ”
“Get it for free, right?” She rolls her eyes. “You must be so proud.”
I laugh at her expression. “I’m offering to buy you clothes. No strings attached.”
“There are always strings.” She shakes her hair out of her face.
Impatience makes me step a little closer. “Now you’re just being stubborn. Is it so hard to think that I want to take care of you?”
“Why?” Her brows knit together. “I’m not your concern. I don’t need you to go around buying things for me or taking me to fancy buffets or giving me your coat.” She shrugs it off and hands it over. “We did something crazy last night. We made some mistakes and I—gah! Hansley!”
I sweep her into my arms, bridal-style, and hold her tight when she starts to wiggle.
My voice is a low, husky timbre when I say, “We don’t have time to argue, so how about we continue this discussion while you’re trying on outfits?”
“Put me down!” She struggles.
An older couple in the corner gives us concerned looks.
Gripping Asia closer, I nod at them. “We’re newlyweds.”
“Oh!” Their faces crinkle into big smiles. “Congratulations.”
Asia leans over and bites my ear.
“Ow!” I holler.
She smirks at me. “What? You seemed to like when I did that last night.”
“You didn’t draw blood last night.” I frown as my ear throbs. “How old are you? Ten?”
Asia huffs. “You really can’t fathom the word ‘no’, can you? Like your brain is incapable of processing the meaning.”
“I understand the word ‘no’ just fine, but this is a very special case.”
“Show-off.”
I move toward the boutique.
“You think I’m going to be impressed just because you have some money?” Asia grumbles.
“It’s more than some.”
"How humble of you,” she snaps in a sarcastic voice.
My chest rumbles with laughter. The fact that she’s nonplussed about my wealth makes me want to spoil her even more.
“Should I buy out the whole store to prove a point?” I ask, lifting her so her face is a breath away from mine. “Say the word.”
“Jerk.”
“I’ll take it.” I stride confidently to an attendant. “Excuse me, my wife and I would like to buy everything you—”
Asia snaps her hand over my mouth. “Okay! Okay! I’ll pick one thing out.”
My lips curve up.
I shouldn’t be this happy.
I really freaking shouldn’t.
But the joy bursting out of me at the opportunity to buy an outfit for her tells me that train has already left the station.
“You’re so annoying.”
“I know.” I flick my tongue out in the center of her palm. Taste the syrup from her pancake. Watch her eyes darken before she remembers she’s supposed to be mad at me.
She yanks her hand away, but I can see the desire in her eyes.
“Put me down,” she says.
“Yes, ma’am.” I let her slide against me—her chest on my chest, her thighs against my groin, my hips, my legs—until she hits the floor and my pulse hits the roof.
Asia stares at me, her eyes flashing.
We’re both breathing hard.
The attendant blushes. “Uh, would you and your wife like to use the dressing room, sir?”
“Absolutely not!” Asia fans her face. “What kind of a suggestion—? Why would I need him in the dressing room with me?”
I grin and glance at the attendant. “Is there a big enough mirror in there. My wife likes to watch when she—”
“Are we buying this thing or not?” Asia slants me an angry look and charges away.
The attendant blushes harder and darts after her.
I laugh, my heart feeling light and full at the same time.
Damn. I could get used to this.
Thirteen
Asia
“Can you pick the cheapest thing?” I ask the attendant. “Like maybe something on clearance? Or something that’s been torn or stained?”
She gives me a confused look. “Ah, sure.”
“Thanks.” I bite down on my bottom lip, too keyed up to even be embarrassed.
Stupid Hansley.
Screw him and his sexy smirk.
And his sexy body.
And his sexy voice.
He’s so exasperating.<
br />
Drives me absolutely crazy.
He couldn’t just set me on my feet back there. No. He had to inch me lower and lower and lower so I felt all of him. So I was rubbing against him while staring deeply into his eyes.
It was the most intimate I’ve ever been with someone in public and fully clothed.
And he knew it.
That crooked grin he flashed me said so.
He riled me up on purpose.
And it freaking worked.
I scrape my thighs together and wince. Pushing my head outside the curtain, I call the attendant back before she gets too far. “Excuse me!”
“Yes, Mrs. Nicholas.”
Mrs. Nicholas?
Who the hell is that?
I stare at her, waiting for the real Mrs. Nicholas to please stand up.
“Ma’am?” She tilts her head and stares right at me.
At me.
That’s when it dawns.
Am I…
Did she just call me by Hansley’s last name?
“No. I’m not—just call me Asia. Please.”
“Yes, ma’am.” She clasps her hands in front of her. “Did you need something?”
“Ah…yes.”
She waits.
Now this is embarrassing. Can I make it through the next few hours without changing? I rub my thighs again. Feel the moisture there.
Yeah, that’s not going to happen.
“Ma’am?”
“I need… a new pair of, um, underwear. Please. These are…”
Her lips arch up in a knowing smile. “No problem, ma’am. I totally understand.”
“It’s not because of… I mean, don’t get any weird ideas.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“But it’s not like I peed myself either. That’s not the reason.”
“Of course not, ma’am.”
I wave my hand. “It’s just… I just need a new pair.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“The cheapest ones!” I yell.
She flashes me an okay sign.
Trembling, I let the curtains flutter in place and press my back against the dressing room wall. That was humiliating.
I can’t believe I’m in this mess.
I can’t believe I got married last night.
I can’t believe this is my life now.
I smack my chest. “Stop misbehaving.”
Hansley is not my husband.
He is not my boyfriend.
He’s not even a friend.
We met by circumstance and he happened to be around when I was having the biggest, most drunken breakdown of my life. We’re going to return to our normal lives and I’m never going to see him again.
I just need to get through today.
Tomorrow morning, I’m flying back home.
Going back to my graphic design business.
Going back to my boring life.
The only thing that’ll change is that I won’t have a ring on my finger—not Thad’s and definitely not Hansley’s.
Gathering my courage, I nod at my reflection. The harsh fluorescent lights pick up the golden undertones in my brown skin. It points to the dark circles beneath my eyes and the shininess of my forehead.
I make a mental note to pick up some foundation while I’m here. The cheapest one, of course. I plan on paying Hansley for all of these items as soon as I get my wallet back from my hotel and I don’t want to break the bank over a dress and makeup.
Shucking off my shoes, I start to undress.
My elbows jut out as I reach behind my back, grip the zipper at the nape of my neck and push it down as far as I can. When I change angles and try to get the tiny metal the rest of the way, it catches on the fabric.
I grit my teeth. “Come on. Come on.”
Nothing.
The zipper refuses to budge.
The door of the dressing room bangs open.
“Excuse me,” I call to the attendant. “Can you come help!”
Heavy footsteps charge my way.
They sound loud.
Determined.
My breath hitches in my throat. I don’t think that’s the delicate little attendant…
A moment later, the curtain flies apart and Hansley stands at the entrance of the dressing room. His hard stare traces my hair, my shocked expression and then my dress that’s gaping open halfway.
I clutch at the flapping lips of the dress. “What are you doing in here?”
“I came to scold you.” He arches an eyebrow as he steps confidently in. “Need some help?”
“I’ve got it.”
He gives me a yeah right look.
“The attendant will be back in a second. I don’t want to give her the wrong idea. She already thinks…” Flames burn my cheeks. “She already thinks something that isn’t true.”
“Who said it wasn’t true?”
“I don’t like to watch.”
“Have you ever tried?”
My eyes flit away from his and drop on the mirror. “N-no, but—”
“Then you don’t know.” His lips curl up wickedly. “What you like and what you don’t.” He surveys the zipper. “You’re a lot more open-minded than you think.”
I snort. “Are you saying that because of last night?”
“Turn around.”
With a huff, I do. “Can you stop acting like last night was the real me? We were both drunk. It doesn’t count.”
“Why not? Alcohol makes you honest.”
“It made me marry a total stranger, so I don’t think it works the same on everybody.”
His fingers graze my neck as he brushes my hair aside. “We weren’t total strangers.”
“Most people don’t marry someone they’ve only met once.”
He grips the zipper. “Ever heard of mail-order brides?”
“That has nothing to do with us.”
He jerks on the zipper. “You said people don’t marry someone they’ve only met once. I’m telling you they did.”
“You always have to be right, don’t you?”
“Most of the time, but I’m aware of how detrimental that is to a happy marriage.” He pauses. Meets my eyes. “So I’ll concede the point. You’re right. Even if you’re wrong.”
“Do you practice that? Being so condescending it makes me want to smack you?”
He laughs. “It’s a gift.”
I scoff. “Can you hurry up?”
“It’s stubborn.”
While he fights with the zipper, I ask, “And what did you mean earlier? You said you came here to scold me.”
His head pops up and he narrows his eyes at the mirror. “I heard you were worrying about how much everything will cost.”
“Well, excuse me for being,” I wince as he pushes his knuckles into the small of my back, “worried about your bottom line.”
“That’s bull. You were planning on paying me back.”
“What’s wrong with that?”
“I sent the girl back to choose something in your style that you’ll like. If you do, we get it. That’s it. You shouldn’t worry about anything else.”
I hear the blessed sound of the zipper moving freely and whip around to face him. “What is your problem?”
“Stubborn women who fight me on everything.”
I lift my chin. “I can afford to pay for myself.”
“Exactly.” His fingers graze my cheek. “But I’m here so you don’t have to.”
“How long will you be here?” I whisper. “For today? And then what?”
"And then we figure it out.”
“There’s nothing to figure out. We both know you don’t do relationships and I don’t do this.” I rock my fingers between us.
He steps closer to me, his eyes darkening. “This?”
“One-night stands and bad decisions and…” Shoot. I can’t breathe. He’s moving closer to me and I can’t—“I need more than a hook-up in Vegas.” My voice is whisper-soft as I dig my fingers into his shirt. As
I feel my body rising to meet his.
I can’t stop myself. It’s like I’m being lifted up by his gaze. By the rapid thunder of my heart. By the heat snapping like wires stretched to their limit.
My voice drifts. “I need…”
I’m not sure who moves in first.
Could be me.
Could be Hansley.
But the moment our lips touch, I know I’m screwed.
Because Hansley doesn’t punish me.
He doesn’t grope and nip and bite.
He savors. Strokes. Sucks gently on my bottom lip like it’s candy. Like it’s the sweetest taste in the world.
He closes his eyes first.
I see him falling and it frightens me.
Because I know that I’ll plummet too. Straight into him. Straight into chaos.
Then his tongue slips inside my mouth.
And my eyes fall shut as he inhales me.
One hand tilts my chin up and holds me in place. The other hand caresses my back, fingers scraping against the lacy fabric of my bra.
I moan, melting in his fluid embrace. Clamoring closer to him. Silently begging for more.
He responds by pressing his fingers firmer against my flesh and walking me backwards. I scramble to keep up with his long-legged pace, my shorter strides forcing me to cling to his neck. To slam my hips against his. To turn our kiss to something more frantic. More desperate.
Hansley thrusts me against the wall and presses his palms on either side of me. I cling to him, moving my hands slowly up his shoulders and wrapping them around his neck.
Every so often, I scrape my nails against his hair and he makes this sound…
My toes curl against the carpet as I do it again.
As I hear him grunt again.
Our lips take and give to each other.
Mingling oxygen.
Mingling breaths.
Mingling our heartbeat.
I feel like I’m floating and, somewhere in my mind, I’m aware that there’s gravity. That this magical feeling will end in a violent crash and it’ll be devastating enough to shatter me.
But my common sense can’t scream louder than my desire for him.
So I let it go.
And I lose myself in Hansley’s kiss.
Fourteen