Page 111 of Victorious: Part 2
I’m just a woman in love.
Singing her heart out in a Vegas dive bar, to a song made famous byFifty Shades of Grey, while her husband watches from the crowd with pride shining in his eyes.
I put everything into the performance. All the fear I’ve been carrying, all the joy Phoenix has brought into my life, all the wildfreedom of being in Vegas with the man I love.
The lyrics talk of not caring about fear, because I feel high with the new world that Phoenix has brought to life. He is my holy grail and has set my entire world on fire.
I’m so fucking lucky he loves me the way he does.
That is why I chose this song.
That and the way he has been fucking me the past few days makes me feel like the fictitious Anastasia Grey in the first movie. My eyes are wide open to what I have been missing out on. Sure, we don’t have ared room, but I’m more than happy with how we have been progressing in our sex life.
When my song ends, the small crowd erupts in cheers and whistles.
Phoenix is at the edge of the stage before I can even step down, his hands spanning my waist as he lifts me down. “You were incredible,” he murmurs against my ear, and the pride in his voice makes me feel like I could fly.
“Your turn,” I challenge, breathless and exhilarated.
“Absolutely not!”
“Come on, Phoenix, live a little. After all, what happens in Vegas…”
He shakes his head, but I see him wavering. “This is supposed to beyourmoment.”
“Ourmoment,” I correct. “Everything isourmoment now.”
The look he gives me could melt steel. Before he can argue further, I’m dragging him toward the sign-up sheet, writing his name in my messiest handwriting.
“Clover—”
“Too late. You’re committed now.”
He groans, curling his lip. “Fine, but if you record it, we’re getting our marriage annulled. I mean it!”
Giggling, I smile. “Okay. Phone’s away. I swear. This is just for you and me. Now let’s enjoy the night.”
He grunts again as we take our seats and continue to watch the other performers. When Phoenix’s name gets called twenty minutes later, he shoots me a look that promises retribution later. But he takes the stage as if he were born for it, choosing “Wanted Dead or Alive” by Bon Jovi, and absolutely destroying it in the best possible way. His voice is rough velvet mixed with pure sin, and every woman in the bar is staring at him like they want to take him home.
Too bad for them.
He’s already taken.
I touch the cactus of my wedding ring, grinning like a damn idiot as my husband—my husband—commands the stage like a rockstar, gyrating Elvis hips and everything. When he finishes, the applause is thunderous, and I’m pretty sure I fall in love with him all over again.
He jumps off the stage, right at my feet, sweat dripping off him, and the brightest smile on his face.
He had fun, there’s no denying it.
“Show off,” I tease when he returns to our table.
“You started it,” he jabs, pulling me against him for a kiss that tastes like whiskey.
While the night is still young, we have more items to hit on my bucket list, so I pull out my cell to see what we have left. The second item on my bucket list is more adventurous, and I feel my cheeks heat as I read it, feeling fifty shades of embarrassed.
Phoenix notices my hesitation immediately. “What’s going on in that beautiful head of yours?”
“It’s… um, the next item on the list that we’re supposed to be doing.” I bite my lip, suddenly feeling shy despite everything we’ve shared together.
