Page 54 of Malicious Wedding

“Should I feel special? Mostly I’m just hoping you don’t kill me in my sleep and make a laptop cover from my skin.”

“I’d make a suit and wear it every day. If I were into that.”

“That’s not helpful.”

“Not trying to be.” He kisses me softly. “Hey. Don’t fall asleep on me now.”

My eyelids flutter. “Sorry, big guy, but I’m tired and you just fucked me into a coma. Congrats.”

“I’m not finished with you yet.” He rolls over, placing me down on my belly. He kisses my shoulders, my lower back—then bites my ass hard.

“Ow, what the fuck!” I slap at him but he’s already pulling away. “Oh my god, you left teeth marks. I’m going to freaking bruise.”

“Good.” He smirks at me, head tilted. “Awake now?”

“Yes, you prick. God damn it, that hurt.”

“Now you’re marked. But don’t worry. I’ll cover the bruise by spanking your cheeks red and raw.”

“That’s not better!”

He laughs, covers my body with his, and kisses me.

Chapter24

Ash

I’m a zombie the next day at Smoke.

At least I have a big, fancy to-go mug filled with delicious artisanal coffee, courtesy of the expensive cafe down the block from Carson’s house.

My house. Whatever.

That and about a dozen bruises dotting my ass, my thighs, and my breasts. All from Carson’s love-bites. The freak.

“Okay, Ash, I’m gonna say it, you look awful.” Bernie stands with her hands on her hips as I sweep up glass. “What’s the deal? Did Carson do this to you?”

“Yes,” I say, sighing.

Bernie’s eyes go wide. “Did he hit you? Tell me he didn’t hit you. I fucking swear, Ash, I will cut off his twisted little—”

“No, no, it’s not that,” I say quickly, dumping the dust pan into a trash bag. “No, he, uh, just, uh, kept me awake.”

I’m blushing bright red like an idiot. Bernie’s angry expression turns into glee. “You slept with him.”

“I might’ve.”

“You bad girl! You banged your husband!”

“Stop it. Things happened, okay?”

“Things? Is that what the kids call it?”

“The kids probably call it, like, forking. Or whatever.”

“My god, you are the lamest individual alive.” Bernie sits up on the bar, elbows on her knees, as I refuse to look at her. “Tell me it was good.”

“It was good.” I pause mid-sweep. “Really good.”

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