Page 17 of Chasing Bandit

His eyes narrowed like he wanted to ask why the hell I wanted such an absurd thing when this was a legality only, but I stared back at him with a tight-lipped expression and a squint, silently warning him not to dare ask.

“Okay…” he dragged out the word, biting his tongue.

“The second condition is that when these six months are up, and Nourish Co-op opens, I want to go back to Houston. We can keep living our lives separately and remain married on paper until the ranch is signed over to you officially, but I’m not staying here for an extra six months pretending to be your wife. It’s already going to be hell on earth marrying you and living here over the summer, but I’ll have the non-profit to distract myself with. When Autumn rolls around, I'm out of here.”

His eyes narrowed again like he wanted to protest but he nodded his head instead, “There was nothing in the deed that said we had to co-locate for the full twelve months, so… fine.”

“I don’t think you understand, other than living in the same city for the next six months because I have to in order to open Nourish, co-living, co-fucking, co-anything with you for the next twelve months is completely off the table. I’ll continue to live here on Ashwood ranch, and you can go on and do whatever the hell you want with Cameron ranch until it comes time for Rig to sign the property over to you.”

His eyes narrowed again, and I glared back at him. “That’s the deal, take it or leave it.”

“So, I’m not allowed to ask what changed your mind about marrying me and why you’re willing to do this now? You don’t want any money? Part ownership in the ranch? I feel like I have a right to ask considering we’re going to be married so legally, you would own half of Cameron ranch which is worth millions.”

“I don’t want a thing from you, Wylie Cameron, just the two things I said above and then I’m leaving. You can write up a prenup for all I care.”

He eyed me suspiciously again and then nodded his head, “You got a deal, Bandit.”

“Third condition. Don't call me Bandit.”

He laughed, “That's not part of the deal and the name sticks. My little bad bandit is turning into my bandit bride.”

I groaned before flopping back on to the bed, “why am I already regretting this decision?”

Wylie hopped on to his knees and scooted down between my legs again, “I think I got something in mind to thank you for your little agreement.”

I wanted to tell him no, wanted to say now that this was out there, we needed to stop sleeping together and keep things strictly professional. This was a marriage of convenience, a legality and not one of love, but when Wylie’s hot, flattened tongue slid into my opening again and his rough fingers rubbed on either side of my clit causing the blood to rush between my thighs and my body to zing back to life, I figured, what’s the harm?

"Let me give you one more," he murmured as he hummed against my clit my body instinctively arching into his face.

“Last time, Wylie Cameron, then this goes back to being nothing more than a piece of paper we both signed…” I sighed as his mouth licked me again across my opening.

“Mhm... whatever you say, my bandit bride.”

Chapter 13 – Stevie

One week later…

“You’re so beautiful,” Jovie crooned as she finished braiding a piece of my long, blonde curls and fastened it at the bottom with a clear hair tie.

She’d insisted on styling my hair for this fake wedding. My curls had been blown out then curled with a larger barrel iron to create loose wavy curtains of hair that framed my face gently. She’d then gone back through and braided tiny bits around my face to frame it giving me a bohemian-bride style that went along with the white dress she’d picked out from a thrift store in town earlier this week.

The dress was low cut, form fitted and way too short for the two extra inches of height that I had on Jovie, but it effectively modeled our arranged marriage. The dress didn’t fit with my tits pushed up and ass almost spilling out of it exactly in the way that Wylie and I didn't fit together.

“Oh, wow, Stevie you look amazing,” my mom said as she entered one of the guestrooms that we'd been using as a makeshift bridal suite on Cameron ranch.

My mom and Rig had flown back from Canada, where they’d been visiting, just for the wedding before continuing their spontaneous love trip around the world. They'd said that it was important to witness Wylie and my fake marriage.

I had insisted they stay away and had firmly told Jovie to keep the ceremony simple, just enough decorations and procession for a few photos. But when her big green eyes welled with tears because she wanted this 'first marriage' to be special for me, I couldn't refuse all of the extra things she added. I'd do anything for my little sister.

Anything.

I hoped that all of the effort Jovie had put into decorating the lawn of Cameron ranch with glowing lanterns, delicate flower petals, the fancy kind of fold up chairs and a tiny awning with vines wrapped around it where Wylie and I would marry would pay off in the form of some legitimate-looking photos for social media, the newspaper, and hell anywhere else I could possibly blast the wedding so that it’d somehow make it back to Houston and Charles.

"Wylie won't know what hit him," my mom whispered in my ear as she brushed a piece of my wild hair from my shoulder.

“You do know this is a fake wedding, right mom?” I asked as Jovie finished up my makeup, brushing gold eyeshadow on my lids and a few swipes of dark black mascara.

“Oh, honey, of course,” my mom said in a voice that definitely didn’t make me feel reassured that she knew any of this was fake.

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