Inhibitions

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Inhibitions Page 18

by Mattie Bowman


  “He’s coming!”

  “Ugh, I really don’t need to know that.” Craig made puking sounds on the other end of the line.

  I rolled my eyes as I sank into the passenger seat of what I assumed was Craig’s car. “Stop it, perv. I have Owen, and we’re on our way back to the arena.”

  “Shit, hold up!” He yelled in the opposite direction of the speaker. “How far out are you?”

  “We’re still in the airport parking lot.”

  “Is Owen driving?”

  “Yes!”

  “He’ll be here!” he yelled again to someone I didn’t know. “He’ll make it!”

  “Count on it,” I said and hung up.

  Silence filled the inside of the car except for my racing heart. I slowly cut my eyes to Owen, who darted glances at me as he sped out of the parking lot and onto the highway.

  “Missed you,” I blurted out instead of the million and one speeches I’d rehearsed on the plane.

  He snorted and reached across the gearshift, taking my hand in his. “You are the perfect woman.”

  A thrill rushed through my core and with every gaze he could spare, we worked out the quick version of the issues the past twenty-four hours had presented us with. Silently, we conveyed what we wanted…each other.

  And since we’d ran into each other Forrest Gump style in the airport, that was enough for me. The rest, the formalities, that could be worked out later.

  Because Owen…he’d always be more than enough.

  Epilogue

  One Month Later

  Owen

  “It took you long enough,” Grant said his tone not matching the crazy smile he had on his face after Presley and I had walked into his office. He grabbed Presley’s hand, examining the very real diamond I’d put on her ring finger the day after I’d knocked out Rollins. “Is it official?”

  Presley grinned at me and then him, nodding. “We just got back from Vegas. This is our stopover.”

  Grant let her hand go and clapped me on the shoulder. “I’m thrilled for the pair of you.” He leaned closer to me and covered his mouth like Presley wouldn’t hear him. “Good call on Vegas.” He pointed to her. “This one would hate a white wedding.”

  I chuckled, bowing slightly to him. “I know.”

  “Of course you do!” He smacked my back to straighten me. “Now, down to business.”

  “Yes,” Presley said. “I know it isn’t standard, but I was hoping you might allow us to finish out our previous stay? The parts we missed?” She flashed him an innocent and pleading look—an entirely unfair look that made it impossible to say no to her, not that Grant ever would.

  Grant smirked. “I’ve already got something set up for you. Anderson told me you were coming. You’re in the same suite.”

  “Really?”

  He gave her one nod, and she clapped her hands together, bouncing on the balls of her feet. I couldn’t help but notice how much different her attitude was now compared to when we’d first checked it. I suppose I could understand the freeness about her, the way her eyes almost constantly shone with love and lust—she was mine now. Truly mine and what better way to spend the honeymoon than partaking in our final fantasy—the one from our fake relationship that had turned out to be so very real.

  “Least I can do for the woman who called me, and I quote, a sophisticated Mad Hatter of love with the power to penetrate the very depths of your most desired fantasies as well as the heart of your true happiness.” The voice he’d used to imitate Presley had a stitch in my side, and she lightly smacked my chest. I caught her hand and held it to me, enjoying the light blush on her cheeks.

  “Pamela sent you the early copy, I see.” She chewed at her bottom lip. “I hope you enjoyed it.”

  “Loved it,” Grant said. “You’re quite brilliant.”

  She was. Pamela had offered her the full-time columnist position of her dreams as well as a hefty raise after she’d turned in the article on Inhibitions. I think Pamela was afraid if she didn’t bump her up and increase her pay that some other magazine would steal her away, which was well within reason. She’d had plenty of calls from magazines and blogs across the country, wanting to interview her or offer her a consulting position. No one had ever portrayed the resort like she had—as so much more than a playground for adults. Presley showed the heart of this place and put the love we’d discovered here into the lines of her article. Not that Grant needed it, but it was one hell of a review that would be sending customers here for years.

  “Are you two prepared to meet your final fantasy now? Or do you need a night of rest?” He asked, a devious smile on his face.

  I glanced at my wife—fuck that felt good—and silently asked her what she wanted. It didn’t take her long for her to answer.

  “We’re ready.”

  Grant clapped his hands together. “Excellent.”

  “Is it bad that I’m slightly terrified to be blindfolded here again?” Presley asked from right next to me, but I couldn’t see her. I had my tie over my eyes as Jessica led us to an unknown location on the grounds.

  “Is it bad that I’m slightly turned on?” I asked, getting the laugh I wanted from her. She was nervous, naturally, but had no reason to be. Reaching out in the void, I found her hand and squeezed it. “There is nothing that we can’t face together. I killed six henchmen for you, remember?”

  Another laugh. Another level up on my happiness tank. This woman. She’d turned my world upside down and made it more delicious than I’d ever thought possible. I was beyond prepared to thank her every day for the rest of time—whether that be by worshiping her body until she couldn’t see straight or doing the dishes. Whatever turned her on, whatever made her weak in the knees, I would become a master of.

  “You two remember all the safety button procedures, correct?” Jessica asked from in front of us. I heard a door open, she tugged us inside, and then it shut behind us. The air around us was slightly humid as if we were in a room that existed before air-conditioning.

  “Yes,” I answered at the same time as Presley.

  “Wonderful,” Jessica said. “Presley, don’t move.” I dropped Presley’s hand as Jessica tugged on my arm, ushering me away from her. She gently pushed me down, and I sank onto a something hard and slick.

  A shuffle of heels against hardwood and a giggle from Presley told me enough to know her nerves were giving away to excitement. I was right there with her, my heart racing against my chest like I’d spent ten minutes on the speed bag. I didn’t have a clue what Grant had cooked up, but I knew it would be, without a doubt, epic. Because it didn’t matter if he’d figured out another personal desire of either of ours or not—anything with Presley was epic.

  And she was mine.

  Forever.

  The notion shot blood straight to my dick just as it had done every time since she’d said I do. “Can we hurry this up?” I asked the ether. “I’m about to rip this blindfold off and take my wife right here. Take your time at your own risk, Jessica.”

  Presley laughed again, the sound not as far away from me as I originally thought. Just when I contemplated peeling off the tie and finding her, Jessica shoved something silky into my hands.

  “I’m leaving now,” she said. “When you hear the door close, remove your blindfolds.”

  The breath caught in my lungs as I waited anxiously for the door to click shut.

  Click.

  I waited a safe ten seconds before freeing my eyes. Nothing but darkness filled them, so much so it made me wonder if I’d successfully taken the tie off at all.

  A soft popping sound happened above me before the room was illuminated in a humming green light. Presley’s eyes were wide as she sat across from me, her hands perched on her thighs. I cocked an eyebrow at her, holding up the leopard print loincloth Jessica had given me while Presley glanced around at the jungle-like room. It was more of an exotic greenhouse, but I sat on a thick horizontal tree-trunk, the area behind me filled with lush green plants a
nd flowers so beautiful I didn’t have a name for them.

  Presley’s cheeks flamed when she met my eyes, rising from where she’d been sitting on a large rock that rested next to a trickling, manufactured pond.

  “Tarzan?” I asked, meeting her in the middle.

  She giggled again.

  I shrugged, slipping out of my clothes and into the loincloth in a matter of heartbeats. Presley licked her perfect lips as I took her hand, guiding her through the plant-filled room, searching for the perfect spot to take her jungle-man style and secretly praying Grant wasn’t insane enough to have live animals hidden in here.

  Stopping at the base of yet another tree, this one surrounded by purple flowers that almost glowed underneath the green light that filled the room, I yanked Presley to me and kissed the hell out of her. The way she gasped between my lips, arching into me like magnets connected us, I knew it didn’t matter who or what she secretly fantasied about.

  Tarzan. James Bond. I’d be fucking Harry Potter if she wanted it.

  There was nothing I wouldn’t do to make Presley happy. She was my world and deserved every indulgence her imagination was capable of creating. I’d spend the rest of my life fulfilling any fantasy she threw at me.

  I couldn’t wait to see what else she came up with.

  The End

  Be on the lookout for Quinn and Tara’s story coming your way soon!

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  Acknowledgments

  To my husband for the incredible support.

  And to the many, many friends I’m beyond blessed to have who help me spin these stories!

  Thank you!

  About the Author

  Mattie Bowman has spent most of her life enduring the wild, socially awkward, and hilarious situations that appear in her books. She has a soft spot for anyone who has ever been mortified and finds something incredibly beautiful in the mistakes that make us more human. When not putting her characters through cheek-reddening situations (both funny and steamy) she’s spending time with her husband and two kids…plus one fur-baby!

 

 

 


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