“Sure,” he says, and starts filling in the missing fields on the forms. We sit there staring at our feet for a few minutes until our names are called by another woman.
“Right this way,” she says, walking toward us. We follow her down a long hallway and into a smaller room with racks of clothes. There are suits and dresses, fancy hats, and bouquets. You could wear a florescent orange tux if you choose, or purple or yellow, there’s literally every color under the sun. You can dress up like Elvis too if that’s what you’re into, but we didn’t come for the novelty of a Vegas wedding, we came with an agenda.
“Did you want to pick out something? It comes with the package you chose,” the woman says, popping her gum as she speaks and looking at the forms we filled out.
“Oh, no thank you. I’ll be fine in my own clothes.” I say.
“How about you?” she asks Ryon.
“Nope, I’m good too.”
“Suit yourselves,” she laughs, then stares at us. “Get it? Suit yourselves.” She shakes her head when we don’t join in on her laughter. “Shorts it is then.”
She nods her head to follow, and we do, trailing her heels like a couple of puppy dogs. She stops us at big white doors decorating in golden hearts and cupids. “You wait here. When this couple comes out, you’re up,” she says, chirpily. “And over there is the bowl of rice if you want to throw some at the newlyweds. It’s fun!”
“Okay, I think we got it,” Ryon says, tipping his head to let her know she can go.
As she’s walking away, he leans into my ear and whispers. “Someone likes their job a little too much.” We both laugh, but the laughter is cut short as the double chapel doors fly open, hitting us where we stand.
A couple comes busting through, arm in arm, and one of the doors hits Ryon in his ass. Jumping to the side, he quickly starts to clap. The newlyweds stop and stare at him, and he keeps clapping. Then he reaches into the bowls of rice and flings some at them, whooping and laughing.
They were already beaming, but now with this gesture of celebration for their union, they’re smiles broaden. Ryon claps louder, and his enthusiasm is contagious. I grab a handful of rice and toss it into the air, too. I clap along with him.
The couple kisses again, and the bride throws her hand up and yells with us. The way these two strangers are smiling is invigorating. I’m happy for them. I want that happiness. I want that smile, that touch, that kind of overwhelming love.
Ryon pokes his head into the chapel and an older man waves us forward. “I think they’re ready for us,” he says shyly to me.
The music starts. It’s a traditional wedding march, and I’m surprised to see an older woman playing a real organ in the corner of the chapel. Cheesy, that’s all I think. This place looks like it hasn’t been updated since the early eighties. Red velvet carpet, wallpapered walls, deep mahogany pews, and obnoxious gold décor all over the place.
“Come on down, come on down here,” the man guides with a few flips of his fingers. “Dolores can’t play forever. She has arthritis, you know?”
Ryon and I look at each other, and he braids our fingers together. “This is it. Last chance to run.”
“I’m only running forward if that’s the way you’re running.”
Ryon gives me a caring smile, and I can see the appreciation in his eyes. This means something to him, and I’m happy to help him. Maybe I’m being stupid and naive. Maybe this is the biggest mistake I’ll ever make in my life, but for now, it’s a risk I’m willing to take.
We walk down the aisle, hand in hand, my nerves are going crazy, and my veins getting hot under my skin. I’m not sure why I’m so freaking nervous.
None of this is real, it’s all a show, I tell myself. But deep inside, there’s a small piece of me that wishes it was real.
What is wrong with you?
This is just to help keep him in the country so he can play ball. Period.
“Hello and welcome. I’m Joseph Herring, and I want to thank you for coming here and letting us share in this special day with you. . .” He goes on, talking about love and faith, recites a little scripture about marriage, but I tune most of it out.
His speech lasts a few more minutes before he directs his focus back to us completely. “And now, your vows.”
We look at each other dumbly. It hadn’t occurred to us that we’d need to say anything during this service. We both shake our heads. “We couldn’t have said it better than you, sir. We’re good.” Mr. Herring looks down at both of us with a thin smile. “All right, then, the rings please.”
Shit. “We’re going to skip those too,” I say, looking over at Ryon, my eyes wide.
“Darling.” He draws out the word and reaches into his pocket, pulling out a small black box. “She’s been so excited about today she must have forgotten we already chose our rings.”
He opens the box, pulling out a solid gold ring, and a double silver band, covered in diamonds, with a giant diamond set in the center. I am shocked. When? Where? Did his agent buy those for him?
“Great,” the justice of the peace says, flipping the page in his small book. “Do you, Gillian Sannow, take Ryon Daniels to be your husband?”
“I do,” I say as Ryon slips the ring onto my finger.
“And do you, Ryon Daniels, take Gillian Sannow to be your wife?”
“I absolutely do.” He passes me the ring and I slide it on his finger.
“By the authority vested in me by the state of Nevada, I pronounce you to each other, husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride.”
Ryon’s eyes are firmly set on mine. He licks his lips and my heart starts to race as my stomach flips. His hands glide down my arms, and he swiftly wraps me around the waist and pulls me in.
He doesn’t kiss me right away. He just looks at me. There’s something in his eyes. It’s fierce, drawing me in, capturing every single piece of me as he slowly lowers his lips to mine.
Tingles spread across my mouth, the electricity sparking as our lips seal together. He gently slips his tongue into my mouth, licking and tasting. This kiss feels different. The tingles move down my arms and through my chest, curling around my heart and squeezing.
I can feel him. I can feel him all through my body.
He’s no longer just Ryon Daniels. . .
He’s my husband.
7
Ryon
Unlocking the door to our hotel room, I feel different.
That kiss. . . It changed something inside. Something feral, something raw, carnal.
She’s mine now.
The thought makes my entire body hot. I want to show off my wife, take her out, put her on display to the rest of the world, and let them know she’s mine.
But I can’t. I made her a promise, and I’m going to keep it. I’ll keep her safe, I won’t let her lose her job because of me. I brought her into this mess, and I won’t let it hurt her.
“Here we are,” I say, fanning out my arm for her to go in first.
“Does anyone else know we’re here?” she asks as she brushes past me into the room.
The scent of her perfume invades my senses, causing my cock to twitch. She’s fucking perfect. Absolutely and utterly perfect. And she doesn’t even know it.
“Nope.”
“Good.” She drops her bag to the floor and looks around.
Opening up the mini fridge, I pull out a few small bottles of whiskey. “Drink?” She’s quiet for a second, but it’s long enough for me to see she’s trying to decide. “Come on, it is our wedding night, and neither of us are driving until the morning. Nothing wrong with enjoying a couple.”
“All right, you convinced me.” She comes to my side and I hand her a bottle.
Twisting the cap, I lift mine in the air. “To us,” I say. She lifts her bottle in unison and knocks it against mine. We down our shots quickly. “Want another?” I ask.
“Fuck it, it is our wedding night,” she says as she wipes her wrist across her mouth and sets the small b
ottle down on the table.
“That’s my girl.”
Handing her a second, we drink them just as fast as the first. My stomach is warm and my mouth is hot. I can feel the alcohol as it hits my blood stream and gives me a renewed sense of confidence.
It’s our wedding night. I just got married. The thought is exciting, sending a surge of electricity through my veins.
“This is nice, Ryon. The view is amazing.” Gil moves to the window to look out it, crossing her arms. “Wow, look at how incredible the city looks at night.”
Walking up behind her, I wrap my arms around her waist and tuck my chin into the crook of her neck. “It really is,” I say as I peer out the window.
“What are you doing?” she asks with a giggle. “Are you drunk already? Did I marry a lightweight?”
“I’m not drunk, and I’m certainly not a lightweight. But, I am holding my wife on our first night together. I mean, it is our wedding night, shouldn’t we make it official?” Rubbing the tip of my nose against her skin, I place a kiss on her cheek. Then another on the curve of her jaw, and another on her neck.
Gil tilts her head to the side, giving me room as she asks, “Official how? The license, my signature on the marriage certificate, that’s what makes this official.”
“I did, and now I’m want the rest.” Fluttering kisses down her neck, I pull the collar of her shirt off her shoulder and continue kissing across the exposed skin. “You are my wife. I am your husband. I just think we should make this little thing as real as possible, don’t you agree?”
She giggles, and fuck, even that giggle drives me crazy. I want to tear her off her feet and throw her on the bed. I won’t, I’ll keep myself in control, but I can’t promise it will stay that way for very long.
I had her once as my fiancée, now I want her as my wife. I want to feel her as mine, to see her body ignite, and get wet from my touch.
She might see this as just an agreement on a piece of paper, but I’m starting to see it as more. More of this, more of us, more taking and giving, of sharing everything life has to offer.
Fuck, what the hell is wrong with me? Where are all these feelings coming from? Maybe I am drunk.
I’ve never been a guy who thought about being tied down, and now I can’t even imagine giving her up. It’s like this piece of paper has taken who I am and flipped him upside down.
The crazy thing is, I fucking like it.
“I thought you said you’d keep it low key?”
“I am. This is low key. You don’t see anyone else here, do you? But, if someone was to ask, like an immigration official, we can at least make it look real. Holding hands, kissing, making love. . .”
Those four letters come out of my mouth and we both stiffen. There’s a sense of realism to the word, and fuck me, it feels right.
Sweeping her hand up around my neck, she starts to play with my hair. “What if we do play house like you’re asking, and one of us actually develops feelings? Does that worry you?”
“Not at all, we’re both adults with a mutual understanding of what we’re doing. What worries me is us not taking advantage of this romantic hotel room on our wedding night.”
Her nails rake across my scalp, back and forth, back and forth, sending chills down my spine. My dick is growing harder and harder the more she touches me. I’m trying to be calm, trying not to ravage her and take her like I want to, but it’s so fucking hard to hold back that animal-like desire.
I want her so bad right now. The only thing stopping me, the one difference between me and a wild animal, is my ability to reason with myself. I know I have to let her come to me. I know that I have to let her give me permission.
That’s all I’m looking for, permission.
Her fingers softly pull at my hair, and she starts to push her ass back, letting it rub against my cock. “So we agree then? This is just for fun. No strings attached?”
“Um, I don’t know if you noticed, but the strings have been tied together.” Holding up my hand in front of her face, I flash my new ring.
“You know what I mean.” Gil spins around, resting her hands on my chest. She gently plucks at my shirt, looking up at me with hunger in her eyes. “I won’t lie, Ryon, I want you. I want you like I’ve never wanted anyone else before.”
My eyes flick between hers as my stomach lights up like I’m on fire. “I feel the same way,” I say, my words almost a whisper as I grasp her face and kiss her immediately.
There’s my answer. Her permission. And I take it, I take it while I give her the same in return. She has me. She has me in ways she’ll never know are possible. Because I won’t tell her. I won’t tell her that she makes me happy. I won’t tell her that I can’t stop thinking about her. I won’t tell her that I’ve been falling for her since day one.
I’ll let her live in this temporary bubble. Where we don’t have feelings for each other, and no one else will know we’ve ever been together. I just know at some point her bubble will pop. I’m just not sure which way she’ll fall.
Hopefully it’s into my arms, because I’ll be there to catch her.
Her head falls into my hands, mouth parting as she slips her tongue into my mouth. Holding her face we keep kissing as I walk her to the bed. Her hands are on my shirt, tugging it up over my head, our lips breaking for a mere second so she can tear it off.
I start with her shorts, yanking the button free, and splitting the zipper open. She wriggles free from her shorts and steps out of them. Her shirt is next, I don’t even wait for her to pull her lips off of mine, I slide the shirt between us, and throw it blindly behind her.
Gillian stops as she hits the edge of the bed and sits. Her hands are on my belt, quickly working it free and tugging the button open. Driving her hand into my boxers, she pulls my cock out as she works my pants down my legs.
“You’re so fucking hard right now,” she says, her eyes on my dick as she licks her lips.
“You make me fucking hard, Gillian.” Her eyes lift up to mine as she runs her thumb across my swollen tip. “Now suck my cock, baby.”
Stroking down, she licks the tip and I can’t stop myself from moaning. Her tongue is warm and wet as she flattens it, sucking my entire length into her mouth. Her cheeks hollow and dimple as she pulls back, then drives back down to the base.
Closing my eyes, I let my head fall back as I grip the hair on the top of her head as she sucks me harder and deeper. Hitting the back of her throat, she gags slightly, and the sound turns me on even more. She pulls off me completely to take a deep breath, and then licks me again, from the base to the top. She rolls her tongue around the head and I’m delirious watching her, her eyes peering up at me as er pink tongue goes round and round. I can’t help it. I push her head down and start fucking her face. Sparks are shooting off behind my eyes as I feel my dick drag over her tongue again and again. My hips are rocking into her face, but I’m not moving too fast. I don’t want to come just yet, although I know I can if I keep this up.
Tearing her head off my dick, I growl. “Lay back.”
Gillian does as I ask without a reply, she just wipes the spit off the corner of her lips as she crawls back on the bed. Her pussy is glistening, soaking wet in her arousal as she opens her legs wide.
She wants me so fucking bad, I can smell her sweet juice from here. I search on the floor for my discarded pants, and quickly pull a condom from my wallet. I slip it down my cock, eager and more than ready to fuck my wife. . . My wife.
Holding her knees, I rest my tip against her entrance. I savor the moment right before I know I’ll experience such perfect bliss. I ease in slowly, feeling every inch of her envelope me, and I don’t stop until my balls hit her ass. She’s tight as a glove.
“Mm, Ryon,” she groans as she clutches the blanket in her hands and grinds her pussy up against me. “Mm, yeah, fuck me.”
“Who are you?” I ask, not moving yet.
“Your wife,” she moans, and I draw out my cock and rock back into he
r.
“And who am I?” I ask again, holding myself up on my arms and not moving.
“My husband.”
The way she says it makes my dick jerk and pulse, and I start pumping into her, short and shallow thrusts. I look down at my cock inside her, and the condom is so fucking wet it’s shining. “Say it again,” I demand, still fucking her, but not going deep, not yet.
“You’re my husband, my husband. . .” Her words trail off as I thrust myself in and out of her body. They dissolve into throaty moans and groans. I love hearing her say I’m her husband. I absolutely love the way she says that single word.
Her tits are bouncing softly up and down as I fuck her, and I catch her nipple in my mouth and suck. Her fingernails dig into my back, and I imagine I’ll have scratch marks in the morning. I hitch her leg up a little higher, so I can hit her deeper, and her fingernails dig into my skin so deep now it hurts. But I can tell she’s loving this. Her hips are meeting me on every thrust, and she’s started saying, “Yes, yes, yes. . .” I prop myself up so there’s some room between or bodies, and reach down between us. I feel how slick the condom is going in and out of her, and then find her clit. I start rubbing it softly, in tight circles, and I can feel her pussy respond. She gets even tighter, if that’s possible, and it feels like she’s vibrating around me.
I fuck my wife like that until her legs are limp and she has no breath left to speak. I feel different. I feel way different than I ever have.
Is this just casual sex?
Or is this something more?
Gillian arches her back hard, lifting herself off the mattress as she lets out a moan that hits my ears and makes my stomach clench. Exhaling a long breath of air, her body relaxes into the blankets.
Her body is warm, sweat is glistening on her skin as our eyes lock and I thrust myself inside her, knowing I’m about to come. My cock turns rock solid as it pulses, and cum erupts from my tip with each throb.
Falling over onto my side, my heart is racing and I’m breathing heavily. Closing my eyes, I let my arms fall up over my head. “Holy shit, you’re trying to kill me aren’t you?”
Big Man’s Happily Ever After Page 29
