by B. B. Hamel
He smirked and moved his hand. “Just trying to help.”
“Help without touching.”
He laughed and shook his head. “You’re welcome, princess.”
I opened my mouth to give him a biting reply, but at that exact moment the doors to the inner chapel opened. A group of drunk-looking people spilled out, smiling and laughing.
I watched as they slowly left the waiting room. The bride and groom looked so happy, and the people around them were clearly having a great time. They actually looked like they were in love.
I glanced at Nash and he nodded at me. I didn’t love him, not at all. We didn’t have anybody with us, no friends or family.
It was not how I had imagined my wedding would be.
An older man in a chaplain’s outfit stood in the doorway to the inner chapel and smiled at Nash and me.
“Are you two ready?” he asked.
Nash stood up. “Sure.”
“Right this way,” he said, and disappeared inside.
Nash held his hand out to me. “You ready, wife?”
I stared at his big, rough hand for a minute. If I took it and stood, I knew I’d go through with it.
Or, I could smack it away and run. I could run outside, get a cab, and be done with this whole crazy thing. I didn’t have to go in there at all, didn’t have to marry him.
This was my choice. He wasn’t forcing me; nobody was.
Nash looked at me expectantly.
My heart did flip-flops in my chest.
10
Nash
I stood across from Selena at the top of the chapel as the old guy did his thing.
I wasn’t listening and didn’t care. The chapel had a few people sitting around, acting as witnesses, and they looked about as bored as I felt.
But the only thing I was interested in was Selena. That fucking dress she was wearing was driving me crazy. I couldn’t help but look at her breasts, her lips, and she definitely noticed. She smiled, and that only made my cock that much harder. I didn’t know how many people got fucking hard at their wedding, but there I was ready to fuck Selena senseless.
And I wasn’t going to get any on my damn wedding night.
“Do you, Nash Bell, take her as your lawfully wedded wife?” the old guy asked.
I glanced at him. “Sure,” I grunted.
He smiled. “And do you, Selena Wood, take him as your lawfully wedded husband?”
“I do,” she said in a tiny voice.
“Well, by the power vested in me by the state of Nevada, I now pronounce you husband and wife. Go ahead and kiss.”
Selena opened her mouth to say something, but I didn’t wait. I grabbed her by the waist, bent her slightly back, and kissed her hard on the lips.
Shivers ran like explosions through my body as I kissed the girl. My cock was straining against my damn jeans as she put her hands on my biceps and kissed me back. We melted together into that kiss, and I completely forgot for a second that she wasn’t really my wife, that this wasn’t a real wedding.
Because that kiss felt pretty fucking real to me. It felt pretty real and pretty fucking intense, and it just kept going.
Finally, the old guy cleared his throat. I stood back up and let Selena go. Her whole face was red, and she stared at me with a look I knew so well from seeing it on so many other women in my life.
It was lust, pure lust. She wanted me as badly as I wanted her, and I knew it.
“Pictures are available up front, and the license will come in the mail within five business days,” the old guy said.
“Thanks,” I said, and handed him a twenty. He went to say something, but I was already sweeping Selena down the aisle and toward the exit.
I wanted to get the fuck out of there before I couldn’t contain myself anymore, before I pressed Selena down against a pew and fucked her until she screamed my name right then and there.
“Pictures?” the woman at reception said as we moved past.
“The works,” I said. “Add it to the bill and mail it to me.”
She nodded, smiling, and I hustled Selena out into the Las Vegas afternoon.
Once there, she whirled on me. “What the hell was that?” she asked.
“What do you mean?” I said innocently.
“That kiss,” she hissed. “You kissed me.”
“That’s what you’re supposed to do.”
“We’re not really married,” she said. I could tell that lust was gone, completely replaced with anger.
“Technically,” I said, “we are.”
“No kissing,” she said. “No touching, no staring, none of that.”
“If you didn’t want me to stare, you shouldn’t have worn that dress,” I said.
“I just wanted to look good for this.”
“And you really fucking do.”
“Nash,” she said seriously. “This is business.”
“Don’t act like that kiss doesn’t have your pussy soaking wet.
“Nash!”
“Okay, pretend all you want. But I saw that look; I felt that kiss. You want my big cock between those pretty legs. You want me to fuck you until you forget your own damn name.”
“Cut it out,” she said, but with less force.
“As soon as you admit that you want to wrap your legs around my face and let me suck that clit until you scream for more.”
“Okay, you can’t—” she said, but I stopped her. My phone was vibrating for the hundredth time that morning, and I knew exactly who it was. “What?” Selena said, annoyed.
“It’s my publicist,” I said. “I need to take it.”
“Fine.” She crossed her arms and looked away, annoyed.
I picked up the phone. “Livy,” I said.
“Where the fuck are you, Nash?” she snapped. “You get lost again?”
“Guess who got married?”
There was a pause and then she groaned. “You didn’t.”
“I am a happily married man.”
“Where are you?” she asked again. “We can fix whatever you did later.”
“I’m in Las Vegas.”
“What?” she said, clearly angry. I held the phone away from my ear as she yelled for two solid minutes. I was pretty sure she never took a breath, which was beyond impressive.
Finally, there was a pause. “Can I speak?” I asked.
“Yes,” she said, still angry.
“I’m in Las Vegas with my new wife, Selena Wood. Start crafting a press release. The pictures and the marriage license will show up at the publisher’s office in a few days.”
“Are you serious about this?”
“I am very serious,” I said.
“This is crazy, even for you.”
“Maybe,” I said. “But what can I say? I’m deep, deep in love with this girl.” I glanced at Selena, but she didn’t look at me.
“Seriously?” Livy asked, skeptical.
“Seriously. We couldn’t wait to make this official.”
She sighed. “Look, I already canceled your stuff for today. Can you meet me in New York by tonight?”
“I can, sure,” I said. “First flight out.”
“Fine.” She paused. “Don’t do anything else until I see you.”
“Bye, Livy.” I hung up the phone.
“Everything okay?” Selena asked.
“Hell no,” I said, laughing. “I just ditched out on some obligations to randomly marry a stranger. Things are definitely not okay.”
She frowned. “I thought this was what you wanted.”
I grinned at her. “I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else, wife.” I began walking toward the strip. “Come on.”
“Where are we going?”
“To get our stuff and then to fly to New York.”
She fell in behind me without saying another word.
My cock was still hard as we hailed a cab and climbed inside, speeding back toward the hotel.
11
Selena
The plane jostled sligh
tly, but I was nestled comfortably in my first-class seat.
The day before felt like a dream. The wedding itself was completely surreal, almost as if it hadn’t happened, especially since we hustled to the airport directly after it was over.
But that kiss had definitely been real.
I kept thinking about it over and over as we waited for our flight, boarded the plane, and then sat there side by side, flying to New York. He had taken me in his strong arms and pressed his mouth against mine, and fireworks had shot down my spine. I’d thought for a second that I was going to pass out from the excitement rushing through my veins.
I’d kissed guys before. Plenty of guys. But none of them were like Nash, and none of those kisses had made me feel that way.
Maybe it was just because we were getting married. Maybe it was just a natural response to my adrenaline and my fear.
Or maybe I really did feel something for Nash Bell.
But no, that couldn’t be the case. I wouldn’t let it be the case at least. This whole thing was a business transaction, and Nash was not the type of man you wanted to get attached to.
He was a player, an asshole, a gruff son of a bitch.
No, I was in this for my family. I needed that money, and that was the end of it. So what if I couldn’t help but look at his chiseled jaw, his intense green eyes, his enormous grin, his ripped body? So what if he made me squirm every time he said something so inappropriately dirty?
It didn’t matter. We were in a business transaction, and that was that.
So what if that kiss made me so absolutely soaking wet?
“What are you thinking about?”
I looked over at him. He was staring at me with that look again, the one that made me feel like we were somehow alone in a crowd.
“Nothing,” I lied.
“Thinking about me?” he asked. “Probably wondering what it would feel like to get fucked in that bathroom.”
“Far from it,” I said, though he actually was pretty close.
“Admit it, Selena. That kiss still has you soaking wet. You’re probably just counting the minutes until we can consummate this marriage.”
“The only thing I’m going to consummate is my fist in your face,” I said.
He laughed, smirking. “God, I love it when you talk dirty to me.”
“If you’re done, I’m going to try to get some more sleep before we land.”
“There’s actually one more thing,” he said. “I got you something.”
“What now?”
He grinned as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box. “Here," he said.
I took it. “You didn’t.”
“Open it.”
My heart practically leapt out of my chest as I opened the box. Inside was a gorgeous ring with one of the biggest diamonds I had ever seen. “Holy shit,” I said. “What is this?”
“Your engagement ring.”
“No,” I said quickly. “No way.”
“Look, it’s the best I could do. They didn’t have much to choose from at the Airport Plaza Jewelers.”
“This thing is so gaudy,” I hissed at him.
He laughed. “If you don’t like it, we can get you another one.”
“No, it’s not that. It’s just, I can’t wear this. It’s so expensive.”
“This is part of the game, wife,” he said, smiling at me. “We need to sell this thing.”
I sighed, looking at the ring. “What if it doesn’t fit?”
“We’ll size it. But I think it will.”
I took it out of the box and slipped it onto my ring finger. It was a little big, but it fit well enough.
“Perfect,” he said. He looked at his own hand. “Feels fucking weird wearing a wedding band.”
“Yeah,” I said absently. I was staring at the ring on my finger, not really sure what I was feeling.
An engagement ring. I’d always wanted one, but I’d never imagined I’d get one while sitting on a cross-country flight with a strange man I’d just married for money.
What the hell was happening in my life right now?
He turned away. “Go ahead and get some sleep,” he said. “You’re going to need it. I’ll be working you pretty hard soon.”
“Sure,” I said absently. I slipped headphones over my head and closed my eyes.
But I wasn’t sleeping. I was thinking about that kiss, about the ring on my finger.
I was thinking about Nash working my body nice and hard in the cramped bathroom, his hands roaming my breasts, feeling my swollen, soaked clit, his cock slamming into me again and again.
I crossed my legs and tried to fall asleep, though sleep wasn’t coming any time soon.
We slowly climbed up the long ramp from the plane. My back was aching from sitting so long, though I only had one tiny bag filled with clothes I’d bought in Las Vegas.
I was going to need to get new stuff soon. Or maybe we could stop back in Philly and grab some of my own clothes.
I was lost in the logistics of our trip and barely noticed Nash as he stopped walking.
“Prepare yourself,” he muttered to me.
“What?” I asked, looking up at him uncertainly. He was frowning and looking dead ahead.
An attractive woman, all angles and with a very serious expression, approached us. She looked like she belonged working as a senator or a museum curator or something like that.
“Hi, Livy,” Nash said. “Fancy meeting you here.”
“Nash.” She looked at me. “Selena Wood, I presume.”
“Hi,” I said, looking at Nash.
“Selena, this is my publicist and all-around pain in my ass, Livy.”
I shook her hand and she gave me a quick, pained smile.
“What are you doing here?” Nash asked. “Couldn’t wait to meet us outside?”
“No,” she said. “The publisher bought me the cheapest ticket available just so I could come in here and meet you personally.”
“They think I’m going to run?”
“They don’t know what to think, Nash.” She paused, frowning. “You disappeared to Las Vegas, and now you’re married apparently. What the hell were you thinking?”
“Love makes a man do crazy things,” Nash said.
“Apparently it also makes you do very stupid things,” she said. “What were you thinking? The publisher is on edge as it is, and you’re running off to marry some random woman?” Livy glanced at me. “No offense.”
“None taken,” I muttered.
“Not a random woman,” Nash said. “We’ve been seeing each other for a while now.”
Livy raised an eyebrow. “Really? And I never noticed?”
“I am trained in deception, Livy. If I wanted to hide something from you, I could.”
“Okay,” she said. “What about all the women you’ve been sleeping with?”
Nash paused, and I saw anger flicker across his face. I knew that if I were really Nash’s wife, I should probably feel a little angry and jealous in that moment.
And truthfully, I basically did. It annoyed me that he was such a manwhore. I didn’t want to be married to someone who thought more with his dick than with his brain, but there I was.
“That’s part of why we got married,” Nash said, recovering himself. “Our relationship was open for a while, but we’ve committed ourselves to this now.”
Livy looked at me. “Is this true, or is this some sort of bullshit stunt he’s pulling?”
“It’s true,” I said.
My first lie. The first of many to come, I assumed.
“What’s he offering you?” Livy went one. “We can match it.”
“I’m not offering her shit,” Nash said. “Are we going to stand around here getting interrogated, or are we going to get out of here?”
Livy stared at me for another second before turning back to Nash. “First interview is early tomorrow morning. The schedule is on your phone.”
Nash nodded. “Great.”
“Car is waiting. Come on.” Livy turned and set out.
Nash looked at me. “Good job,” he said softly.
“Thanks.”
We quickly walked behind Livy, trying to catch up.
I didn’t think for a second that Livy bought our story, but it was plausible. If Nash and I had been in an open relationship, that would explain all of his whoring around. And if we were committing to each other, getting married the way we did also made sense.
I memorized that story, prepared to repeat it over and over for journalists until I got sick of saying it.
We hustled through the terminal, heading toward the baggage claim. Livy led the way, not slowing down or looking back. I glanced at Nash and could see the tension on his normally cocky face.
This was probably becoming pretty real for him, too. It wasn’t just a thing between him and me anymore. Now we were going to be lying to the world. I was sure that Nash was capable of lying to everyone, considering the sort of training he must have had from the SEALs. But now we were really doing it, and there was no going back.
We moved out of the terminal and toward the baggage claim. As soon as we got near the carousels, aiming to head outside, people began to come closer to us.
“Nash Bell,” one man yelled out. “Why did you go to Las Vegas?”
“Nash, this is another one of your girlfriends?”
“Nash, is your story true? How much of it did you have to make up?”
We kept moving, but the people swamped us. They had cameras and the flashes were going off, and I could tell that people were beginning to stare. Nash looked straight ahead and kept moving behind Livy. He glanced at me.
“Just keep moving,” he said.
I nodded, but the paparazzi weren’t stopping.
“Nash, does she know about all the others? Are you drunk right now?”
Flash after flash, they just kept taking pictures. I was amazed that Nash could keep his cool, especially since they were calling him a manwhore and a liar right to his face.
It was totally overwhelming and a huge shock to hear the way they talked to him. Some reporters jostled into me, but we just kept going, eventually getting outside.
“Nash, do you think your behavior is a stain on our country?”
