It’s gone way beyond that now, surely?
Slowly, oh so very slowly, he kneels on the bed either side of my legs. I’m practically hyperventilating watching his calculated move on me like he’s had this planned for years. His erection strains against his jeans as his eyes pierce into mine.
“Every inch of you is perfect,” he says, eyes raking over my body, lingering on my breasts.
I squirm under the intensity of his gaze.
“Why are you not inside me?”
His smile almost makes me come.
“Brody,” I groan, my voice so thick with lust I’m not sure it’s my own.
The very tips of his fingers gently glide up my thighs. My head hits the pillow and I gasp. I don’t know if it’s the alcohol or him, but I feel every touch, no matter how small, all over my body. He curls those maddening fingers around the hem of my underwear and pulls it off. I lift my hips and grip the quilt in my fists.
Brody stands up and shoves his jeans down, stepping out of them as if they’re on fire.
“Eager, Brody?”
His lust-filled, drunken eyes, hood. “I can hear you panting, Wren.”
“Do something about it then.”
Jumping back on the bed, he laughs at my squeal and covers my mouth with his. We’re kissing again, just like we should be.
His erection presses between my legs. I whimper and grip hold of his shoulders. Chuckling against my lips, he pushes forward and enters me in one thrust. We both freeze, our mouths stopping and fingers cutting into each others’ skin.
Nothing has felt this good.
“Shit,” I hiss. “Brody.”
His eyes flash open and steal my breath for the second time. I curl my hands in his dark hair and that’s all the encouragement he needs.
One arm curls under my butt and the other holds my jaw. He’s relentless, picking up the pace until I feel like I could pass out.
I hold onto him, and somehow, fuelled by tequila, meet every devastating slam of his hips. I feel him all over. Every nerve ending is on fire and addicted to the way he’s touching me.
I should be jealous of every woman he’s had before, but I want to thank them for all the practice. Brody is killer in bed. He increases the pace, tipping me higher and higher. I feel my body heat up, sweat dampening the back of my neck and palms.
“Brody, Brody,” I chant into the kiss as his chest brushes against my sensitive nipples. “Fuck.”
I feel the smile as he devours my mouth. He rolls his hips and I almost come undone.
Fire. I’m on fire. Is it supposed to feel like this?
My nails dig into his scalp and the pain only spurs him on.
“Never stop,” I order, arching my back and gripping the quilt now that he’s out of reach again. “Don’t pull out. Brody, please. I’m so close. Fuck me.”
He sits up and holds onto my hips.
My eyes widen in alarm. The next roll of his hips throws me off a cliff.
Even to my own alcohol impaired hearing, I sound insanely loud. The whole hotel can probably hear me shout his name, thrashing back against him as wave after wave hits me, the orgasm spiralling into next fucking week.
It doesn’t end.
Brody groans, bucking wildly and digging his nails into my butt as he comes hard, my name a whisper.
He collapses on top of me, doe-eyed and lopsided smirk. Drunk and satisfied.
I know the feeling.
My heart is crazy, racing a hundred miles an hour. I breathe in through my nose as my body pulses.
“That was the best sex of my life,” I tell him, curling into his side as he pulls me in his arms.
I feel his chest rock, silently laughing. “I’m going to need to do that again soon.”
My eyes drift close on a moan as he runs his fingers through my hair. “Mmmhmm,” I murmur against his hard chest and place a kiss on the muscle “I need you again.”
He rolls me onto my back and presses his forehead to mine. “With the way you’re looking at me right now, I’m going to be ready in no time.”
“Brody,” I whimper as he lowers his head and captures my nipple in his mouth.
Feels like he’s ready again now.
Twelve
Brody
My head feels like someone is splitting my skull in two with a crowbar.
Fucking tequila.
I groan and roll onto my side. I don’t even remember getting back to my room. Pushing myself up, I blink my eyes open and try to focus.
I’m in my room, but I’m not alone.
My head drops to the human body beside me.
Wren.
I’m naked, and there is no way she’s not.
We slept together.
What the hell have I done?
There is no official rule, but I know I shouldn’t be in bed with her.
I groan again, and that’s when it all gets much worse. The events of last night come flooding back like a tsunami of what have I fucking done.
My blood freezes in my veins.
We didn’t…
The licence.
The chapel.
The fucking tequila.
“No. No, no, no! We got married,” I whisper in horror, my heart crashing to a halt.
Surely, it wasn’t legal. We were wasted. It was just a bit of fun.
“Wren,” I say, looking around the room.
There would be evidence if we were married.
Shit. There it is.
My gaze lands on the bedside table, a piece of paper sealing our fate. A fucking marriage licence, signed by us both. My professional signature sitting next to her illegible scrawl.
I gag through a wave of nausea and press my fist to my mouth. Fuck.
“Wren!” I snap, staring at the paper and willing it to disappear.
“What?” she groans. “I’m dying.”
So am I.
“Brody, did we have sex? I’m naked! Why am I naked?”
“That’s the least of our fucking problems. Will you sit up? We have to deal with this.”
“Shh,” she hushes. “My head really hurts. Do you have painkillers?”
“Wren, get up!”
My heart plummets to my stomach. I grip the bedsheet and try to breathe through my nose.
“You’re grouchy when you’re hungover.”
“We got fucking married last night!” I snap.
She laughs. “Yeah, that was funny.”
“Funny?” What the fuck? “Wren, we’re married!”
“No, we’re not. We were drunk.”
Fuck me, she still thinks it was a joke. Catch up! “This piece of fucking paper disagrees!”
“Shh!” She rolls over and glares.
Damn. Her hair is a mess, matted everywhere, and her lips are red and puffy. I remember it. I remember a lot of sex. A lot of mind-blowing, marriage-consummating sex!
Fuck.
Her expression hardens, face paling. “Paper? What are you talking about, Brody?”
I snatch the licence off the side and thrust it in her face. I need her on my page right the fuck now.
Her tired eyes scan the paper, and her breath catches. “What the…?”
All of a sudden, she sits up, gripping the side of her head in one hand and the licence in the other.
“Oh God. Is this real?” Her voice is several octaves above normal. “This can’t be real.” Her head whips to me. “Brody, is this real?”
Her light eyes are full of panic.
In that instant, I want to fix it—to take it all back so she never feels this scared again. I can’t. There is nothing I can do because telling her everything is going to be fine isn’t going to make this go away.
“No. No way. This isn’t happening,” she mutters, scanning the licence. She flips it over as if she’s looking for the part that says, Psych.
“Okay,” I breathe, my heart pounding overtime. “Let’s not panic.”
“Why? Situations like this are perfect for panicking
! In fact, if you look up panic in the dictionary, it will say, Accidentally married brother’s friend in Vegas, and oh my God, we are married. I’m eighteen.” Her shoulders slump. “What have we done?”
Her reaction makes my stomach turn.
Hold it together. My life is spiralling, but I know I need to fix this.
I clear my throat and will my voice to cooperate. We’re going for calm. “Wren, we’ll figure this out.”
Petrified eyes meet mine, and the fear inside them punches my stomach.
I will make this right for you.
“I’ll sort something. Okay?”
The promise is heavy, and I already feel the weight of it. I don’t know if I can make this go away just like that. Annulments are there for a reason, but our reason?
“How?”
“We’ll get an annulment,” I tell her as if it’s a sure thing.
“A what?”
“An annulment. It wipes the marriage, like it never happened.”
We must qualify for one, surely? I bet Vegas sees a lot of them.
But a marriage can’t disappear completely. We might be able to get it expelled legally, but we’ll still remember going to get the licence with… whatever their names were, and then finding a chapel to marry us—which was all way too quick and easy to do. We’ll always know that we were, for a very short time at least, married. When I marry in the future, I will know it’s for the second time.
“We were drunk!” she screeches. “How can it be a legal marriage when we couldn’t even walk in a straight line?”
I blow out a breath. “It’s all the rage here.”
Her mouth falls open. “That’s insane. That’s not how I’m supposed to get married.”
“Wren, I’ll sort it.”
Shit, we really did get married by Elvis. It’s incredible how one piece of paper can sober you completely.
Shaking her head, she lets go of the licence and curls her arms around her legs. “I feel sick.”
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, picking up the piece of paper that has changed everything beyond recognition.
Wren is my fucking wife. I have a wife.
I should have left her to crack on with Dale. This morning, I could have woken up with some chick I’d never see again and remained free.
Not for much longer because I need to find a place to get an annulment. There must be a lot of those here.
“I’m sorry, too. I just thought it was fun.” She laughs humourlessly. “To be honest, I didn’t really think at all.”
“Tequila is evil.”
I scoop up my jeans from the floor and dig around for my phone. Wren pulls on her clothes, but it’s too late; I’ll always picture her naked now.
My stomach churns—and not just from all the booze yesterday. This can be fixed. We can get an annulment. It’s fine. We’ll get one, and this marriage will never leave Vegas.
Why the fuck is it so easy to get married?
“Brody?” Wren whispers as I jab my finger into my phone, researching what we need to do next.
“Yeah?” I swallow bile.
“Brody!” She takes a ragged breath that sounds painful.
I look up, and my heart constricts at the fear in her eyes. “It’s going to be okay. I promise.”
She studies me from the other side of the bed, her chest rising and falling a touch too quickly.
“Hey, Wren, I will sort this.” I step around the bed, walking slowly towards her. She turns to face me head-on.
“This is …”
Smiling, I nod in agreement. “Yeah, it is. Trust me, though, please?”
“Okay,” she mutters. “I should go back to my room. I don’t have a missed call yet, so Emma and Felicity probably didn’t come back last night.”
I turn my nose up. I hate hypocrites, but I’m being one. The thought of my sister having a one-night stand isn’t something I want to think about. I’ve just topped any one-night stand.
“I’ll text you once I’ve got this sorted.”
“Thank you, Brody,” she rasps.
I watch with my heart in my throat as she leaves my room, her head tucked down and arms curled around her body.
Thirteen
Wren
I let myself into my room and know immediately that no one is here. It’s eerily quiet and cold. The curtains are still closed, and only one lamp is on by Emma’s bed.
They will no doubt have stories to tell when they get back. I’ll win, hands down, however I can’t claim it.
Jesus.
I chuck my handbag down and grab a change of underwear and a sundress. I head to the bathroom to have a shower. The faint smell of Brody’s aftershave lingers on my skin. It’s not at all unpleasant, but it is a reminder of how dumb we were last night.
My eyes sting with tears as water cascades down my body.
It all seemed like such a good idea at the time. Go with Jayden and Kaci, witness their wedding, get married ourselves. My God, tequila makes the stupidest things sound awesome. I don’t know what Brody is going to do with this annulment thing. We both knew what we were doing. We went to get a bloody licence before the ceremony. We just weren’t sober enough to think it through.
Can mistakes like that really be wiped?
I bloody hope so.
It’s not like I have a ring or a tattoo on my head, but I don’t know how long I can hide a marriage. This needs to be over before we leave.
After a quick shower, I wrap a crisp white towel around myself and tap my phone. Brody’s name flashes up on my screen. I clench my trembling hands.
Brody: First step is to fill out some paperwork at the courthouse. We’ll find a way to separate from the others. Don’t worry.
My shoulders sink on a long sigh.
Wren: Do we need an appointment?
Brody: Didn’t say. We just need to pick up some paperwork first. The girls back yet?
And as if by magic, the door opens. My heart stills for the millionth time already today. How am I going to act normal when I’m burning inside?
Wren: One of them is.
I dry quickly and get dressed.
Emma winces as I open the bathroom door.
“I’m sorry, Wren.”
Clearing my throat, I ask, “What for?”
“For leaving you all night.”
“Emma, I’m not three.”
Though I definitely needed an adult with me last night.
She looks around the room. “I’m still sorry. I beat Felicity back then. She’s on her way.”
“How was he?” That’s something I would usually ask.
Her cheeks blush pink. “He was lovely. We had a very good night. What did you get up to?”
I blink, barely hearing her over the constant ringing in my ears, and my stomach churns. “Not much really. Had a chilled one.”
“We’ll do something tonight, I promise.”
“I don’t expect you to hang out with me, Emma. I’m a big girl. I can amuse myself.”
A little too well.
“I know, but I want to. I’m going to hop in the shower before Felicity gets back. We’ll meet the boys for breakfast, yeah?”
“Sure,” I say, even though I would rather do anything else.
While she showers, I plug my phone in because it’s not going to last much longer. Felicity gets back as I sit on my bed and tuck my legs under myself.
“Hey, babe,” she says with a massive grin.
“What time do you call this?”
Technically, it’s only about thirty minutes after I got in.
She rolls her pretty green eyes. “He was very good in bed.”
Good answer.
“I got that from your smile and the state of your hair.”
Her hand immediately flies to her head, patting her bird’s nest down. “Sign of a good night,” she tells me.
Yep, mine looked similar before I got in the shower.
“Emma is in the bathroom. Apparently, we’re meeting the boys
for breakfast soon.”
“Sounds good. I’m starving. I passed Mason in the lobby. I’ve not seen Brody or Luke.”
“I haven’t seen anyone,” I say a fraction too quickly.
She chucks her bag down on her bed and stretches her arms above her head. “So, what did you get up to last night?”
I swallow. “Not much really. Had a chilled one.” That’s my answer, and I’m sticking to it.
The lie tastes sour on my tongue, even on the second time. I can hardly admit that I got hitched to her brother.
“Well, let’s get ready and eat. I’m starving.” She swings her legs back off the bed and opens the wardrobe.
Thirty minutes later, they’re finally ready and we meet the boys.
Everyone is sitting around the table, eating brunch and drinking morning cocktails without a care in the world. Brody looks the same—casual smile, relaxed posture. He doesn’t look like he got married by accident last night.
I’m freaking out. My eggs and bacon are untouched. I’ve stabbed the same piece and dropped it back onto the plate at least ten times. My stomach is tied in knots so tight that I think I would throw up anything that touched my lips.
“Wren, what are you doing?” Emma asks. “You’ve barely touched a thing.”
Brody looks up, his jaw tight. He doesn’t want anyone to know about the whole marriage thing either. Like I’m going to sit here and tell my older brother and sister what happened. I want the annulment and to forget it happened. What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas. It had better, anyway. It’s one thing for my siblings to know what happened. It’s something else entirely for my parents to find out.
I’d be grounded forever.
“I’m fine. Still full from dinner, probably.”
“Hmm, could that be because you’re nursing a hangover?” Mason asks.
Brody cuts his brother a look, but I don’t think Mason knows we were drinking together last night. In fact, I’m sure of it. Even though Mason isn’t my brother, he would still have a lot of things to say to Brody.
Luke’s eyebrows shoot up. “You were drinking last night? Where?”
“Don’t worry; I don’t have a fake ID.” I went to a sleazy bar that didn’t ask questions. “I stayed in my room, watched movies, and drank some beer.”
Waking up in Vegas Page 7