Page 22 of Meant For Love
“Yeah, baby?” he replies softly, and I glare at him even though he’s making my stomach get all mushy.
“Don’t.” I point at him. “The wedding was fake. It’s Vegas.”
“Zoey,” he sings my name, the smile on his face big and annoying, and I wish I hated his face. I wish I didn’t know what his hair felt like when I sink my fingers in it. I also hate that all last night's memories are now returning to me like a movie playing.
“Nash.” I try to remain calm. “Everyone knows that weddings in Vegas don’t really count if you are drunk. People go out and are like ‘let’s get married’ and then the next day they are like ‘that was fun but…’” My voice trails as I try not to freak out even more.
Nash sits up even more, but only to swing his legs out of his side of the bed, standing in front of me naked in all his glory, and I was wrong when I pictured him naked that first time I met him. I thought his body couldn’t get any better than it was. I was wrong. He is leaner, more cut, his thighs meatier than I remembered. And his cock? They should make molds out of it. “Zoey,” he calls my name, and I look up from his cock to his face. “Hate to break it to you, baby, but the marriage is real.” I open my mouth to say something, and he holds up his hand. “Got the paper in my pocket that says we got married, and let me tell you, it’s as real as it gets.”
Ten
Nash
I put my hands on my hips as I look at her with my wedding ring on her finger. “You’re wearing my ring.” I point at her. “I’m wearing yours.” I hold up my hand. “And I’m going to keep wearing it.”
“But you bought this in there.” She points at the door that leads to the living room and the dining room. “It’s not real.”
“It cost me forty thousand dollars,” I reply, and she gasps. “Trust me, those are real.”
“Are you out of your mind?” she asks, and I just shake my head. “You have to be out of your mind, Nash.” She looks at her hand. “You have to take them back.”
“They engraved our initials in them,” I point out, and she looks at me shocked. “You said we had to, so it’ll always be there.” I take a deep inhale. “I’m going to go and take a shower and then we are going to order some breakfast.” I start to walk away from her. “Unless you want to come shower with me?” I wink at her. “We did a lot of married things in there.” She closes her eyes and flops down on the bed. “Look at the room service menu and order something.”
I walk toward the bathroom. “What do you want?”
“Whatever,” I toss out, walking into the bathroom and turning on the water. My head throbs a bit. I figured she would freak out today, but I didn’t expect her to think it was fake. I shake my head, looking around the bathroom. There are towels thrown everywhere because we took a bath, and she ended up riding me until we both came. The water was like a fucking tidal wave at the end. I had to put towels down to mop up all the water, even stepping on them now they are still soaking wet. The tub is still full of water, and a single loofah floats in it. I pull the plug up to drain the water and push all the towels to the side before turning the shower on.
I step in, chuckling at the conversation we just had. I let the water run over my neck that is getting tight thinking of my wife in the other room, freaking the fuck out. My wife. Holding out my hand, I see her wedding band there. What a fucking night. I turn off the water after I finish rinsing the body wash off me. Grabbing a towel and wrapping it around my waist, I take another one and run it over my head, drying my hair. Stepping back into the bedroom, I see her in the middle of the bed now with the room iPad in her lap. “This can’t be real,” she murmurs, looking up at me, and I see she has little red spots all around her lips from spending the night attached to my mouth. Every five minutes, my mouth was attached to hers, sometimes less. “It’s not a fake wedding.” She looks up at me. “I am never drinking again.”
“You weren’t that drunk when we got married,” I point out. “I can’t say for sure after we were married when we had our reception.”
“A reception?” she shrieks.
“Yeah, Curtis set it up. We had cake,” I tell her. “Then after he left, you took the icing and said you wanted to eat it off my…” She covers her face with both hands. “Then you pulled down your top and rubbed it all over your nipples.” I smile. “Best cake I’ve had in my life. We did the garter toss right after.”
“There was no garter toss.” She peeks through her fingers.
“You’re right.” I smirk. “I placed your ass on the table after that and ate your pussy right before I took it off with my teeth. You wanted me to put it in your mouth while I fucked you.”
She puts her head back and groans as I’m sure the memories are coming back to her when I hear my phone ringing. “Is that mine or yours?” I ask, and she just lifts both hands in the air, letting them fall back on the bed. “I think that’s mine.” I walk toward where the ringing is coming from.
Right out of the bedroom, I see the balloons all over the room, along with all the white flowers that seemed to multiply after we got married. The cake is in the middle of the table, right next to where her ass print is now showing. “Do you want any cake?” I shout back to the room, grabbing my jacket that is right next to one of my shoes.
“No, I don’t want any cake!” she yells back. “I’m never eating cake again.”
I laugh as the ringing stops, and I take it out and see it was Caine. “Did you order room service?” I ask her as I walk back into the bedroom, calling Caine back and putting it to my ear.
“Do you think I ordered room service?” She side-eyes me. “Does this look like I’ve ordered room service?”
“Baby, you look amazing, like you always do.” I sit on the side of the bed, and I’m about to hang up on Caine to recreate a couple of moves from last night when he answers.
“Please tell me that picture you sent was a joke,” he blurts, not even bothering with a hello.
“What picture?” I ask him, not sure what he’s talking about. I look over at Zoey, who sits up in bed now.
“The picture of you and Zoey at the altar kissing with Elvis behind you,” he says, making everything in me stop cold.
My eyes go big as I cover the phone with my hand. “We sent my brother a picture of us at our wedding,” I whisper-hiss at her.