“And when you cried, and said that you were just looking forward to being married, and that you were worried that no one would ever want you again, I was so angry. I wanted to kill the man that had hurt you and made you feel that way. And when you suggested it, I knew I could give you what you wanted by marrying you, and I could escape the contract.”
He takes a step toward me, and I take a step back. “And then at the engagement party, I saw you and Wyatt, and I saw how brave you were, and how happy you were to have someone stand with you, and I realized that I didn’t want to be married to you just because of a stupid fucking contract. It could have been anyone, but god, Sandy, I don’t want it to be anyone else.”
My breath feels shallow in my chest, it’s too much information to process. “How can I believe you?”
“You don’t have to,” he says, “but I never sent that letter. I wanted to tell you about everything first. I wanted to give you the chance to leave before knowing what I would gain from being married to you. I was going to tell you last night. The rest of the papers on that table were the contract.”
I can’t fight the tears this time. “You lied to me.”
“I know,” he steps closer, “and I can’t ever expect you to forgive me, but I hope you will.”
“You love me?” I’m really crying now, my voice hiccupping.
His hands land on my shoulders. “I do.”
Fingers under my chin tilt my face up, and he kisses me, softly, tenderly, and the hole in my chest closes just a little, hurts a bit less. I love him, more than I ever thought. I do.
“I’ll give it up,” he says. “I won’t send the letter. It doesn’t matter to me anymore, because nothing matters if I don’t have you.”
I lean my head against his chest, completely aware that my tears are soaking into his shirt.
“I’m sorry,” Will says. “I know we did this backwards. But I love you. I really, fucking love you. So much, I can’t even tell you.”
It’s hard to find my voice, and when I do find it, it’s rough from the tears. “I love you too.”
Will arms tighten around me, and he tilts my head back so that I can see him. He kisses me, and it’s not like any kiss that we’ve shared before. This one is the first one that’s truly real on both sides, and we both know it. It’s all passion and fire and suddenly I feel like the whole world could be burning down around us and I’d still let him take me right here.
From elsewhere in the apartment, I hear Anna’s voice. “I’m happy for you both, but I swear to god if you have sex on my couch I will kick both your asses.”
We laugh, and even though I know that this isn’t perfect yet, and we’ll still have things to talk about, it’s no longer broken. “There’s one thing,” I say, pushing him back far enough so that I can see his face.
“Anything.”
“I want a wedding,” I say. “One that I can actually remember.”
He grins. “So we’re staying married?”
“You think I’d let you go after we just managed to find each other?”
Suddenly I’m swept into his arms and out Anna’s front door. “In that case, Mrs. Herrington, allow me to carry you across a threshold. And straight back to our house.”
“Our house,” I say, playing with the way the phrase rolls on my tongue. “I like it.”
“I love it,” he says.
I laugh as the elevator door close behind us, and we’re finally, truly, together.
Epilogue
Three Months Later
“Ladies and Gentleman, please welcome Mr. and Mrs. Herrington.”
There’s a wave of sound and cheering from our friends as we appear in the gorgeous ballroom of the Emerald Hotel in Las Vegas. It seemed like an appropriate place to hold the wedding, and the place is so beautiful, I can’t imagine a better venue for our reception.
Will’s hand is in mine, and neither of us can stop smiling. My friends swarm me, Anna, Elizabeth, and Naomi all in their bridesmaid dresses, chattering about how beautiful the ceremony was. It feels like a fairytale. I don’t have time to talk long. I’m swept into the reception line with Will, and there are so many people that I can barely register all their faces. I’m mostly aware of Will’s hand on my waist, of when he looks down at me and smiles, of when his hand brushes mine sending electric sparks along my skin.
Mr. Herrington Sr. comes through the reception line. We’ve met once before, and it’s clear he was hoping that his son would marry someone a little more high class. He’s not the friendliest person, but I have a feeling that I can win him over with time. I’ve got plenty of it, he and the family are stuck with me now. But Will’s sister and I are practically best friends, and I couldn’t ask for a better sister-in-law.
When the long line of people finally ends, Will escorts me to our table. “I’m starving.”
“Me too. Let me grab us some food. It’ll be faster since I’m not the one in the giant dress.”
I laugh. “Kind of you.”
He kisses me on the forehead. “I’ll be right back.”
It feels so good to sit down. No one tells you how just how exhausting your own wedding can be. My mom, who’s seated at a table right in front of me waves to get my attention, then she points to the door. There, standing at the door, is Laura. I sent her an invitation, but I didn’t expect her to come. I gesture for my mother to bring her over to the corner of the room. I haven’t spoken to Laura since her engagement party, and if there’s going to be a scene I don’t want it to be in the middle of the ballroom. She looks down as I approach.
“Hi.”
“Hey,” she says. “I hope it’s okay that I’m here.”
“I did invite you.”
Her hands are twisting together, like she’s nervous. “I’m not with Wyatt anymore,” she says. “He left. Someone new, I guess.”
I reach out and put my hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry.”
“You shouldn’t be,” she says, “I’m the one who needs to apologize. I was an ass. I was so caught up in what I thought was love that I couldn’t see what an idiot he was or what a terrible sister I was. I’m sorry that I had any part in hurting you like that.”
“Thank you,” I say. “But I’m okay. Really. Obviously,” I grin. “Try to think of this as a lesson learned and a bullet dodged that you’re not with that asshole.”
“God, he really was, wasn’t he?”
We both laugh, and for the first time she meets my eyes. “I’ve missed you.” I pull her in for a hug. “I’m glad you came. Try to have fun. Try to forget for a little bit, okay?”
“Okay,” she says.
I glance back and see that Will has our food. “I’m going to go because I’m starving, but I’ll see you on the dance floor in a little while.”
The food is delicious, and it feels like everything is playing in fast forward. We cut the cake and I manage to get a little bit of frosting on Will’s nose before he catches my wrist. I throw my bouquet, dance with Will and my father, and then my mother and my sister. Then it’s dark outside and I’m starting to fade.
Will appears behind me, pulling me back against him. “Want to get out of here?” he asks.
“Yes please,” and just like that, all of my tiredness is gone. Even in the months that we’ve been together, our hunger for each other hasn’t faded. Will looks damn good in his tuxedo, and I’d make him wear it forever if I didn’t know what was underneath that tux.
“Do we make an announcement, or just disappear?”
“If we make an announcement,” I say, “there will be another half hour of goodbyes.”
He nods. “That’s a good point.”
“And I know you can’t want to see what’s underneath this.” I’ve been teasing him for weeks about my wedding lingerie—a confection of silk and lace and a corset that make my boobs look twice as big and my waist twice as small.
“No announcement it is.” He grabs my hand and tugs me through the doors of the ballroom before any
one has a chance to notice. We run like maniacs across the lobby of the hotel, laughing, my dress flying behind us. We slip into an open elevator, and Will presses the button before he kisses me. Just like the last time we were here, we fog the mirrors.
The room we walk into has walls of windows, and a giant bed, and a table… “Is this the room?”
Will grins a little sheepishly. “I thought it would be fun to revisit it, since it was technically our first wedding night. The second wedding night should be here too.”
I laugh. “That’s oddly sweet.”
“Now let me help you out of that dress.”
I turn, and he starts to work on the many small pearl buttons that line my back. Little by little the dress loosens, and then collapses into a giant pile of white silk. I step out of it and turn to face Will where he’s frozen in place, staring at me. I have sparkly heels on. The corset is attached to lacy garters and stockings, and just like he prefers, I’m not wearing any panties. “Worth the wait?”
“Hell yes,” he says, shrugging out of his suit jacket and then his shirt. “You know what else today means,” he says.
I shiver with anticipation, “Yes.”
We agreed that after the public marriage, we’d start to go without condoms. I haven’t forgotten the way he felt in that shed, the skin-on-skin friction delicious in an entirely different way.
Las Vegas is laid out in front of us and it’s beautiful. I didn’t get to enjoy the view last time. This time I’m totally sober. I look back and find Will on his knees. He presses me back into the window, spreading my legs and licking into me. “If I had known you were wearing this without any panties we would have left a lot sooner,” he says between licks on my clit. I can’t respond. He knows exactly what I like, and how to make me come, or hold me on the edge.
I melt into the glass of the window, feeling vertigo from the pleasure and the fact that there’s nothing but air behind me. His tongue is magic, working me in circles until I’m panting, forcing my hips closer to his mouth, but he doesn’t let me come. He strips the rest of his clothing off and stands. “Not yet, I want Las Vegas to see my filthy, slutty wife.” The smile on his face is nothing but love and mischief. Hands on my waist, he turns me to face the window and places my hands against it. “Now everyone can see if they look up.”
He doesn’t give me a warning as he thrusts inside in one long stroke, and I cry out. It’s just like I remember, the feeling of him with nothing between us. A gush of wetness and even more arousal runs down my legs and Will groans. “You’re so fucking hot.”
My lips are pressed to the window, and the heat of his body contrasted with the cold of the glass makes my head spin. He doesn’t stop pounding into me with a need that is pure desire and fury. I don’t want him to stop, I want more, and that’s what I tell him. I ask him for everything, and every slick thrust sends me closer. His fingers are digging into my hips, pulling me against him even as he plunges deep, and I’m so close, almost there.
Will stiffens, his body going rigid as he comes. Warmth fills me as he comes and it’s all I need. I fall over the edge, and I feel like I’m falling off of this building and into a cloud of sheer pleasure. I’m shaking with it, gasping. There aren’t any words to describe it except yes and more and please.
His cock jerks inside me as he comes, filling me for the first time. Even though we’ve been together like this for so long, there’s something about it that feels even closer. He’s a part of me now and I’m a part of him. Will pulls me away from the window and carries me to the bed. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” I say, closing my eyes.
There’s a soft chuckle and I feel his lips on the skin above my breasts. “Are you going to sleep?”
“It’s been a long day,” I admit.
He nods. “But what kind of husband would I be if I didn’t pleasure you your entire wedding night?” He draws a finger down my corset. “Especially when I have so much more unwrapping of you to do.”
“Hmm,” I make a faux noncommittal sound, as if I would ever turn down a night entirely revolving around my pleasure. “I’m afraid, dear husband, that you’ll have to make it very worth my while.”
“Don’t worry, Mrs. Herrington, I will.”
Copyright © 2020 Penny Wylder
All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means without prior written permission of the author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either products of the author's imagination or used fictitiously and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or businesses, organizations, or locales, is completely coincidental.
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1
Sadie
The club that we’re in is one of Atlanta’s finest. Not somewhere I would normally be, but you only live once, and today’s my last night in this beautiful city. Tomorrow I move to Nashville and start my new life there.
So tonight is my last hurrah, and I’m going all out.
“To my best friend,” Jennifer shouts, “who’s going to be the best damn anchor that Nashville has ever seen!”
“Shhh,” I pull her back into her seat from where she’s standing. “The whole idea of tonight is that people don’t know that, Jenn.”
She’s definitely already drunk and there’s a maniacal glint in her eye. “Well I want to celebrate you. You’re going to be amazing.”
The familiar nerves flutter in my gut. I can’t believe it’s actually happening. Still. After years of working my way up as an on-camera reporter doing bigger and bigger stories, I’ve finally been hired as an anchor at WNSV—Nashville News.
It’s perfect for me. They not only let their anchors be the faces of the show, but their anchors get to pitch stories and do their own reporting. Kind of a rare blend, and one that I can’t wait to tackle. But I would be lying if I said that I wasn’t going to miss my life here in Atlanta. My friends and my local hangouts and everything about it. I’ve been here for a few years now, and it’s become home.
But being an anchor is my dream, and I can make new memories in Nashville. I’ll be able to visit Jenn, and she can visit me. It’s only a few hours’ drive. Totally doable for weekend visits, we’ve told each other. But still, it’ll be different not seeing each other from day to day, so she suggested we make a night of it. I was the one who wanted drinks and dancing, and she was the one who wanted to come here.
Now that I am here, completely decked out in a dress that’s borderline slutty, and the highest heels I own, the buzz in my veins from the drinks Jenn has kept in my hand is making me want something else. Something to really make this night special.
WNSV is the biggest news station in Nashville. Every day my face is going to be seen by thousands of viewers. Hell, there are going to be fucking billboards with my face on them on the highway. And as amazing and brilliant as that is, once I’m on air, I’ll have zero anonymity.
I know I’m not going to land up on the cover of People magazine or anything like that, but it’s surprising how gossipy the news business can be, and anchors get a fair amount of attention paid to their social lives. And networks don’t exactly mind that attention. It’s good for ratings. So before I end up in Nashville and always looking over my shoulder, trying to behave in a way that doesn’t get me attention, right now I want one night of hot hook-up sex with a complete stranger.
Not that that’s something I do often, but given that it might be the last time for a while I get to do this, I’m starting to like the idea more and more. Go out with a bang tonight!
The alcohol is making me warm in all the right places, and I feel good. I feel even better about the big, burly blond hovering on the edge of the VIP section.
The raised platform isn’t far up, but it’s high enough for the people up there to get a good view over the club. But this guy hasn’t been doing much up
there but standing near the railing with a drink in his hand looking out at the dancers. Oh, and staring at my ass.
So maybe I’ve turned the exact way I know he needs to look to see it, and maybe I keep moving so his eyes come back to mine. But there’s no mistaking the fact that he’s looking at me. We’ve locked eyes a few times and he’s never looked away. Just stared me down while taking a slow sip of his drink.
I wish he would take a sip of me instead.
Fuck.
I’m sober enough to know that this is what I want and buzzed enough to let my inhibitions fall. The perfect state for a one night stand. I want to remember this, or what’s the point?
The crowd that he’s with does seem to be trying to get his attention. Especially one woman. She keeps coming up to the railing and leaning against it, pushing up her breasts and letting her long blonde hair slide over her shoulder. But he doesn’t so much as glance at her. His eyes are only on me, and even from here I can feel the heat in them.
“What are you staring at?” Jenn asks, voice loud as she tries to talk over the loud music.
I don’t have to answer for her to know. She turns her head and follows my gaze. I know what she’s seeing. Blond hair with enough length to run your fingers through. Gray button-down that’s nearly bursting over the width of his chest and the thickness of his arms. The sleeves are rolled back revealing toned forearms and gorgeous tattooed skin, and every inch of his relaxed pose screams sex.
“Oh,” she says. “Got it. Understood.”
“Will you be okay?” I ask.
“What do you mean?”
I laugh, but I don’t take my eyes off him. “I’m going to fuck that man. And I don’t know if I’ll do it here or at his place, but it’s happening. So are you okay hanging solo?”
Big Man’s Happily Ever After Page 15
