CHAPTER ONE

I’ve never been to Vegas. Never gambled in a casino.

I’ve never played the odds, given lady luck the time of day, or believed in fate.

And I’ve never married a stranger in a drunken moment of lust either.

That would be ludicrous. Preposterous... “I do.”

 

BECK

My skin is sticky with dried sweat despite the constant background hum of what is most likely an air conditioner. A high thread count sheet, the type that is so soft it might as well be silk, clings like luxury sandpaper to my dehydrated skin. And what the heck is that overly warm weight on my hip?

It feels, oh Christ, it almost feels like—dare I say it when I don’t want to think it—a hand? Is it a hand? Somebody’s hand? I lift the sheet slowly, carefully, not wanting to wake up the hand. Oh shit! It’s attached to a wrist. Nice watch though. Huge, classic face on a thick, tan leather band. I jam one eye shut and wince as my gaze follows that wrist to a forearm. Masculine, tanned, lightly dusted with gold hair until the elbow. Oh my freaking goodnight, is that his dick that I spy through the space between his arm and my body? He’s naked? And that’s his cock? It’s definitely his cock. His big, thick, erect cock with quite the proportional helmet. Did I ride that last night?

I scramble to get away from the humongous boner. Thump.

“Ouch,” I whisper, rubbing at my bare ass cheek as I sit up on the floor beside the bed. Is that my naked ass cheek? I glance down. Oh shit! My boobs are swaying in the wind. Just hanging out for all the world to see. There’s not a stitch of clothing on me. Grabbing the edge of the white sheet, I rip it off the bed and wind it around my naked body as I climb to my feet. Please don’t be awake. Please don’t be awake, Mr.…?

Why don’t I remember his name? Christ, that body. All bronze and muscles and shaggy hair that’s fallen over his face. Not too long, not too short. The type of hair that makes women envious and looks good from bed until bed again. And those eyelashes are insane, dusting his cheeks. He’s like a cover model. Or a rock god. His lips move lightly with each breath he takes. His eyelids flicker. His morning wood bobs against his stomach as he rolls onto his back. I hide my eyes behind my hand and stumble away from the bed. I need water. Painkillers. To get out of here before Mr. whoever he is wakes up.

The bathroom is almost as big as the main room with its orgy sized shower and separate tub. Glass tiles break up my reflection and spin it back at me. Thick black smudges around my eyes make me look like a panda, and is that a hickey on my shoulder? Another on my neck? Why is my bra hanging from the rainwater showerhead?

I step inside the shower to retrieve my bra and accidentally knock the water on. The icy blast makes me yelp and almost fall out of the stall in my haste to get away from it. Dizziness gives me a head rush that makes my stomach defy gravity as part of last night rushes me.

“These tits are amazing.” My back against the tiles, my hands caged above my head in one of his, he nibbles my shoulder and grapples with the hooks on my bra before peeling the wet lace from my skin and hooking it over the corner of the square shower head.

Gripping my hip tight enough to bruise, he growls. “Can’t believe how much you teased me all night, and now you’re mine. I’m going to fuck you all over this hotel room.”

“Please.” I jerk forward and lock my lips with his, eager and desperate for that hardness pressed to my entrance. Want to feel it inside me. His mouth is hot on mine, his jaw rough, and I love the way it makes me shiver when it scrapes against my skin. “Less words. More actions.”

“All right. All right.” He grins as he presses all those mouthwatering angles and planes against me. “Are you always this bossy? Because it’s a fucking turn on, Beck Casey.”

Beck Casey? I turn off the water. Did I give him a false name? Putting on my bra, I latch the clasp and straighten the straps. Aliases aren’t exactly new to me, but come on, half a fake name? There’s something pathetic about the half-assed attempt that doesn’t gel.

Groaning, I lean against the sink, clutching the marble counter with one hand while I put my head under the tap and turn it on. Water runs down my cheek and my chin. What on earth happened last night to make me spend the night with a stranger? A hot, stunning, obviously utterly screwable stranger, but still...

Liv would say you only live once, and any first is a good first. Vegas for starters. Craps. This bizarre morning after… I splash water on my face and scrub at the thick smears of makeup around my eyes. After what? What else did we do?

I take a couple of breaths while I turn off the tap and pick up my black panties that are draped over two empty champagne flutes. Another partial memory clicks into place as I pull them on.

“How did I get this lucky?” he asks, taking my half-empty glass of champagne and setting it with his at the back of the sink. After lifting me onto the counter, he strips off his unbuttoned white shirt and hooks his hand in the back of his T-shirt. Pulling it up over his head, he tosses it over his shoulder.

“Good Lord.” I fan my hand in front of my chest. He’s gorgeous. Blue eyes and shaggy brown hair that’s got a little blond in it, a little caramel under the lights. What would it be like in the sun?

“You like what you see, Angel?” He grasps my knees and pulls me right to the edge of the counter, making me yelp. I death grip the marble border to keep my balance as he leans in to slide those firm, seductive lips up the side of my neck.

“Like would be a little underexaggerated,” I whisper. His actions make me breathless and I rub my thighs against one another.

“Feeling’s mutual, Beck Casey.” He grasps my chin and moves his lips over mine before digging his tongue between them. My knees fall wide so he can move closer. Firecrackers explode behind my eyelids, travel up and down my spine. The man can kiss like nobody’s business.

I dig my fingers into his shoulders as he tilts me back. His torso is pressed to my chest and my nipples are spiking my bra hard, and he’s pitching the front of his jeans so tightly I’d be surprised if there wasn’t an outline of his fly on his cock. If he keeps kissing me like this, I’m a goner. “You should take off those pants, Mister.”

“Absolutely,” he agrees, helping me wiggle out of my panties and dropping them behind me. “Right after I take care of my woman.”

Giggling, I guide his mouth back to mine. “Can’t believe you called me your woman. We barely know each other.”

“Feels right though, eh?” He grins widely and somewhat crookedly, one side of his mouth lifting higher than the other.

I fall into his blue eyes. Biting my lip, I rest my head against his chest as he strokes my hip, then my thigh. Nothing is supposed to feel this real, especially in a night. “It feels perfect.”

“Know what else will be perfect, Beck Casey?” he asks, his gaze growing darker with just the right amount of impatience and desire.

“What?” I wind my arms around his neck.

“This.” He pushes my thighs further apart as he lowers to his knees in front of me and blows a warm breath between my legs.

“Oh.” My eyes roll back in my head as he puts his mouth to me, pulling my hips forward and tilting me backwards. I knot my fingers in his hair, my new ring glinting much brighter than the ones on my right hand.

What? Hold up! Just wait one second. I flip my hands over. Good Lord, did I somehow put the wrong ring on the wrong finger? And did it accidentally grow a diamond? Right hand; garnet and gold ring that my dad gave me for my twenty-first birthday, silver Claddagh from Liv from when we hit ten years of friendship, pearl and titanium engagement ring from my mother’s first marriage. Left; wire ring from Liv that she gave me when we were ten, back before money became part of her identity, and the tiny sapphire pinkie ring I had to have. Phew, everything is where it’s meant to be. Except this whopping big princess cut diamond.

Princess cut? Whopping big diamond? Oh hell no. It’s stuck too. No amount of twisting is moving this thing from the base of my ring finger. Engagement ring? Did I somehow end up engaged last night?

Stumbling out of the bathroom, completely focused on the ring, I whack my knee into the coffee table. I stare down at the glass top and my bruised knee. Whoa. Deja vu.

Climbing onto the glass topped table, I stretch like a cat, arching my back and then sticking my ass in the air as I stare at him over my shoulder. I’m still a little wet from the shower. Sex and soap scents the air.

“Fuck, that’s a view,” he says, coming up behind me. He’s still naked from the shower, his skin glistening with water droplets. They bead at the end of his hair and in his scruff too.

I don’t know how many times we’ve had sex tonight. Can’t keep them straight, but my body is on fire like never before. From the moment we met there was something about him that couldn’t be ignored. “You like me like this, Mr. Casey?”

“Like isn’t the word I would use.” He growls as he tugs me to the edge of the glass, pressing his naked hardness against my seam. His thumb dips into my entrance and then slides up between my ass cheeks to press against my asshole. “I’m going to fuck you everywhere. That is, if you’ll let me.”

I let out a low moan, dropping my head as he massages some of my wetness into that area. I’ve never been touched there, never thought I’d want to be. A deep ache starts inside me when he slips two fingers into my entrance and his thumb digs in that little bit deeper, and maybe yes, I want him to fuck me where no one else has before. I’m shaking, breathless, on the verge of yet another orgasm. “I’ve never…” He does something with his thumb inside me that has me seeing stars. “Oh God, please.”

“Mrs. Casey,” he says, smearing my wetness from my pussy to my asshole, before replacing his thumb with two fingers. “My beautiful wife, I’m going to take very good care of you.”

“Morning, wifey.” A rough, masculine voice, that’s a little woken up scratchy, breaks through my memory.

I swing my hands down across my butt in a protective motion, placing them one over the other behind me, though it’s apparently far too late. Did I really let him fuck me up the…? No. No way. Just no. I wouldn’t do that. Would I? And wifey? Did we get…? Not just engaged to a stranger, but married? I wouldn’t let him stick his cock in my ass and m-marry him too. Would I? That’s crazy. That’s two out of my big three never-ever-will-I’s right there. Turning around, I find him watching my hands with a smirk on his face. “H-hello.”

“Come back to bed.” He pats the mattress beside him invitingly, those sexy blues drifting from my arms to my face, and everywhere in between. They are way too familiar. Friendly and bold.

“No, I’ll just…” I glance around the hotel room. What was I wearing last night?

“Your dress is there.” He nods at the chair closest to the bed, where a white lace garment is draped over the arm.

“Thank you.” I walk over and snatch it up. Of course it’s white, and absolutely not what I started the night in. I pull it on over my head and lo and behold I can see my underwear through it. When we arrived, I’d been wearing a blue dress, not this... mockery of a wedding dress. 

Mr. Casey doesn’t seem to mind though, if the way his mouth turns up even more on one side is anything to go by. Without taking his eyes off me, he sits up further and scrubs a big hand through his hair. The action doesn’t do a damn thing to make it any less messy perfect. “Are you hungry? You must be hungry. I can order room service.”

“Actually.” I find my heels, again white, tucked under the edge of the bed and slip them onto my feet. “I was going to go get coffee. I have to find out what happened to my friend.”

“Liv, right?” He climbs off the bed and prowls toward the bathroom, the muscles in his back rippling as he stretches his arms out to the side and over his head. His ass belongs to Adonis, chiselled from rock, and when he moves, his muscles are as fluid as my mouth right now.

I wipe the back of my hand across my chin just in case, but thankfully it comes away dry. “Yes.”

I don’t know if that yes is in answer to him asking if she’s my friend, or if that’s my name, or if I want him to pound me into the mattress again. I slowly back toward the door.

“Lovely woman, that friend of yours.” He turns around.

I will not glance down. I will not let my gaze wander. Oh look, a penis. A huge at half-mast erection that’s been intimately acquainted with my butt. How does my ass not hurt after that?

“You’ll probably find her in her hotel room. She had a little too much champagne before we walked her back to her room.”

“Oh.” I don’t remember that. Unsurprising with everything else I’ve forgotten. I back toward the door. “Well, I should go and—”

“Give me five minutes to shower and dress and I’ll come with you.”

“Uh. That’s quite all right.”

“Just let me put my pants on then.” He glances around.

“In the bathroom,” I say.

“Thanks.” He smiles. “I’ll literally be a minute.”

“No. I...” I have to get out of here and away from him, no matter how sweet he is and how clearly attracted I am to him. Married? This is crazy. “How about I get coffee, grab Liv, and then we’ll come back here?”

“I could use a shower.” He looks longingly in the direction of the bathroom.

“Good. Great. I mean yes, that’s a good idea. Last night was whew, so...” I find the door with my back, search out the door knob while I wave one hand in front of my face and almost moan over what I can recall. Dirty hussy.

“You should join me.” His teeth are movie star white when he grins.

“Tempting.” I mean it too. And this time I’d remember it all. It’s not like it’d be wrong either since we’re apparently married. God, I have to get out of here. “Very tempting. But I should check on Liv. I’ll only be a little while.”

“Hurry back, then,” he says, heading for the bathroom. “Can’t wait to spend the day with you, Mrs. Casey.”

“M-me too. I mean with you.” I grapple with the knob and almost bang my head into the edge of the door as I yank it open. There’s no way I am coming back to this room. There is no chance I’m spending the day with this guy. How the hell did we end up married?

Stepping into the hallway, I close the door and breathe deeply for the first time since I woke in this nightmare. The only thing I can do right now is continue what my brain started and forget last night ever happened. In fact, it’s probably best if it’s never mentioned again. Right?