Page 5 of The Retreat

“I’m never going to live this down.” Owen sighs but signs the papers the gum lady gives him. “I’m going to be expected to have a big wedding like Oliver and Isaac.”

He shivers like the very idea disgusts him.

I hook my arm through his and basically drag him from the building. “Don’t worry, husband, I’ll make sure all the attention is on me.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” he deadpans. “And Oliver abandoning me now that he has Isaac.”

His driver is sitting at the curb when we emerge, and I slide into the car. For a fake marriage, I could have done worse. Not having sex is going to be a real bitch though. Hmm, I wonder just how straight he is…maybe he’ll get just as desperate as I will be and decide to see how the other side lives.

My dick tries to rise at the idea, but all the alcohol is keeping it from happening. I sigh and relax into the seat, watching the bright lights dance past the windows. People in all sorts of outfits fill the sidewalk on the strip. It’s fascinating to watch.

We pull into the Bellagio, and a valet opens the doors for us. I grab a twenty and slip it into the pocket of the adorable twink that opened mine.

“Thank you, sir.” He smiles.

“Well, aren’t you adorable?”

“Colin,” Owen slurs, and I swing my head toward him. He’s tense. If only he would let me help him relax. A good orgasm does the mind good.

“Yes, husband? You’re so pretty.” The alcohol is making me sleepy and has taken my filter. Not that I have much of one while I’m sober.

“Stop flirting with the help. We just got married.”

I make my way around the car, only having to lean on it a little – yay me. “You seem tense. I would be happy to help you with that.”

Owen grabs my arm and pulls me through the lobby of the beautiful hotel. The Chihuly glass on the ceiling is probably my favorite part of this stuffy building. It seems so out of place with its bright colors and uneven shapes.

Like me in the world I was born into.

Owen shoves his hotel key against an elevator card reader, and it opens for us. I’m shoved inside, tripping over my own feet.

“That’s no way to earn a blowie.”

“I don’t want a blowie as you so eloquently put it. Sex is overrated.” Owen picks at his fingers for a second before he straightens his shoulders and slides his hands into his pockets. It’s interesting to see that little blip of the real man. Even drunk, there’s a part of him that is still trained to act right in public.

“Are you a nervous nelly?” My words are garbled, but I hope he understands them. “Don’t worry, husband, I won’t force you to lose your virginity tonight.” I pat his cheek.

He tries to shove my hand away but misses, and I laugh.

“I’m not a virgin, not that it’s any of your business.”

“You’re my husband. It is my business. I have to know how careful to be with you.” I attempt to wink but end up blinking at him.

The elevator dings, and the doors slide open to a penthouse. Of course it does. The Godfreys probably have some kind of rental agreement with them.

“Good night, Colin.” Owen bolts for a room to the right without a backward glance and closes the door. While I don’t hear the lock being turned, I’m sure it has.

I didn’t expect to share a bed with him tonight, but cuddles would have been nice.

I’m so tired I don’t bother looking around for another bedroom. In front of me about ten feet is a living room with a couch big enough for me to lay down on. It’s all I need.

My head hits the pillow, and the world goes black.

I wish I were dead. Then my head wouldn’t hurt so much. What the fuck did I do last night? Why did I drink so much?

I crack my eyes open and am happily surprised to find it dark. What time is it? As I blink the blurriness from my eyes, I’m confused. Where the hell am I? Slowly, I manage to sit up and look around what looks like a hotel suite or penthouse.

Owen.

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