Page 15 of Accidental Vegas Vows

“I do,” I snarled, my hips stuttering as I teetered on the edge. “There’s a chapel on every fucking street corner.”

Her lips parted as she studied me, her eyes almost going cross-eyed as I brought my lips to hers briefly. “If you come, will you still want that?” she asked, a shit-eating grin lashing out across her lips.

“Yes.” My voice hoarse and my body sweating, I knew it wouldn’t be enough to stop the need.

She met my thrusts with every stroke of her hand, gripping me, dragging me up and over the edge. I leaked across her stomach, cum dripping between us and onto the tile, and it didn’t even cross my mind to back down.

I still wanted more.

“Marry me,” I rasped, once more for good measure. “Let me show you how much better this can be.”

Heavy lidded eyes met mine and I released my grasp on her hair, letting her mull the words over. Reality should have crashed into me the moment she spoke. “Okay.”

But dear fucking God, I was making the best decision of my life.

————

The neon lights and the very slight come down from blackout territory to just maddeningly drunk weren’t enough to wake either of us up. We were in this fully, cackling as we stumbled down the street at three in the morning, convinced that this was the best thing we had ever thought to do. She practiced her “I do” over and over in silly voices, and I parroted them back at her, committing the one she liked most to memory. It was gone within seconds, though.

Her heels clutched in her hand, I carried her into the late-night chapel.

We signed the paperwork.

We handed over our IDs.

We shared a toast of a champagne flute filled with beer, and I shoved a short veil into her messed-up hair. I stood beside a man in a full-white Elvis costume as she clumsily walked barefoot down the aisle.

I slid my platinum pinky ring onto her left ring finger. I let her do the same for me with mine.

We said I do.

“You may now kiss the little mama,” Elvis said, and I fucking did.

I kissed her the way I had the first time back at the restaurant, raw and desperate, and clung to her as I tipped her the way a groom is meant to tip his bride.

We posed for photographs for all of two minutes.

We took the gifted Prosecco that Elvis handed us.

“We’ll need this for our wedding night,” I told her, and the biggest, brightest smile flashed across her cheeks.

Fuck her room at the Flamingo. She was coming back with me to the Bellagio, and I would have the best Goddamn night of my life with my wife.

Chapter 5

Olivia

Iwasn’t sure if it was the horrible, blinding headache or the drying thirst that woke me. Blinking away the bleariness in my eyes, I looked toward the foot of the bed where most of the offending light was pouring in from.

It took me far too long to remember I was in Vegas and not Paris with the giant replica of the Eiffel Tower staring me down.

Vegas.

Vegas.

Bile crept up my throat as my pulse thundered. I was still in my dress from last night, but the bottom of it had ridden up, gathering around my rear and only barely covering my upper thighs and what lay between them. Oh my God. The sheets barely even covered me, and from what I could tell, my underwear was missing.

I knew what I’d find if I looked to my right. I knew it with every little fiber of my being. But still, as if to twist the knife just an inch further, I did it anyway.

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