I paced back and forth. I didn’t even know why I was pacing. I then started chewing on my lip and mumbling to myself.

“Lacey, are you okay?” asked Emmaline, staring at me funny.

“I’m fine. Perfect. Thanks.” I didn’t stop pacing.

“You need to sit down. You don’t look so good.”

“I’m fine. I just need to figure this out. Everything will be fine.” I didn’t believe my own words but I was desperately trying to not freak out. In fact, I was a second away from freaking out. Suddenly the room was spinning and I struggled to stay standing up as I felt hands assisting me into a sitting position.

“It’s okay, Lacey. We got you. Take a deep breath.”

I tried to do as they said, but I was gulping air in the midst of a full-blown panic attack. Married! I couldn’t be married! What was wrong with me?

I felt my friends pushing my head between my legs, telling me to breathe.

I focused on their words, gasping for air at first until finally, I was able to take a breath without feeling as if it were a challenge.

I slowly raised my head and looked at them. “I’m okay. Thanks. I was just—well, I don’t know—”

I tried to shrug it off and looked at my friends whose eyes were full of concern. I instantly felt embarrassed for losing it for a second. I had to get my emotions under control. I straightened my shoulders, stiffened my spine and declared, “I’m going to get an annulment. That’s clearly the only thing to do from here.”

Misha and Emmaline nodded silently.

“Okay. I’m going to go find Jude. I’m sure he’ll agree to it.”

Emmaline nodded in encouragement, but Misha for some reason looked doubtful.

“What?” I asked, not understanding her look.

She said with hesitation in her voice, “It’s just that he didn’t seem to be too upset by this whole issue. When he was here, he was so calm, he didn’t tell me why he was here, just that he wanted to speak to you, but I think he might actually be taking the news better than you...”

“So what are you saying?” My mind jumped to the most obvious conclusion. “You think he set this up? He did this on purpose?”

“What? No! I mean, I don’t know why he would. Why would he do something like that?”

I shook my head, “Yeah. I don’t know. I just—I’m not thinking right. I need to go to talk to him.” I stood up and promptly headed to the door when I realized I still wasn’t wearing much.

“I’ll change my clothes first.”

“Why are you wearing a sheet, by the way?” Emmaline asked, having only heard part of the story since she had woken up shortly after Jude left.

I opened my mouth and then closed it.

“I’ll catch Emmaline up on last night’s events, you get changed.”

I thanked Misha, trying to ignore the blush creeping up on my cheeks as Misha began explaining the whole sordid tale to Emmaline.

I hurriedly tossed a shirt and jeans on. I ran a hand through my hair and brushed my teeth. I splashed water on my face and gave myself a pep talk.

“You’re going to go over there and demand an annulment immediately. Don’t get distracted by his bedroom eyes. Or his sexy body. Or his beautiful smile. Or the way he smells, and his skin...” Oh God, I was in trouble.

With purpose in my steps, I strode past my friends, determined to expediently get done what needed to be done. I got on the elevator and realized that I had no clue where I was going. I turned to Hank who looked at me questioningly and said, “Hank, you wouldn’t happen to know what floor Jude Foster is on, would you? I swear I’m not trying to stalk him. I work for his dad and I—”

“No need to explain.” He selected a floor and we rode in awkward silence. I think I was the only one feeling awkward.

“Would you happen to know his room number?”

Hank laughed. “He owns the whole floor. His is the only place here. Go ahead and knock, I’m pretty sure he’s in.”

I thanked Hank and made my way to Jude’s door. I didn’t know what I was going to say, but I hoped Jude wouldn’t close the door in my face once he saw me. I’d been mean and nasty, and I was ashamed of how I had reacted.

It wasn’t his fault I’d got drunk. It wasn’t his fault that we’d got married. None of it was 100% his fault. I just hated that I’d let myself lose control to the point where I made the biggest mistake of my life.

I mustered up some courage and knocked lightly on Jude’s door as if I actually didn’t want him to answer. I waited for a second and then raised my hand to knock again, when Jude pulled the door open.

He didn’t look happy to see me.

“What can I do for you, Lacey?” His words were friendly enough, polite obviously, but his face was unsmiling. He didn’t look like his normal gregarious, anything-goes self. He looked serious, no nonsense. I wasn’t used to this version of Jude.

Softly I said, “Can we talk?”

“Talk? I thought we didn’t have anything to talk about.”

“I was wrong,” I said with a shrug.

He didn’t respond. He stepped back, and with a sweeping arm gesture invited me in. Reluctantly I crossed the threshold, secretly afraid that once I stepped in I’d see hints of our indiscretion.

Bits and pieces of last night were coming back to me and I avoided looking at his coffee table where our indiscretion had started. And I equally avoided looking towards the bedroom door where our indiscretion had ended.

I avoided his eyes and looked anywhere else. My gaze settled on a pile of clothes I realized were mine. He saw me looking and said something about dropping them off downstairs with Renee for me.

His tone was nonchalant, but I knew he was making idle chitchat. He clearly didn’t want to have this conversation either, so I cut to the chase.

“What are we going to do?”

Jude took his time answering as he moved to his couch and sat down. He crossed one ankle over the other and folded his arms behind his head. The position emphasized his muscular arms which I remembered the feel of, and his long legs stretched out in front of him made me remember the feel of his strong thighs under mine as I rode him last night.

I didn’t like the direction of my thoughts and apparently, I’d spent too long staring at Jude, speechless. He easily figured out where my thoughts had gone, saying, “Your memory’s coming back now, huh?”

It seemed pointless to play coy and I just answered honestly. “Unfortunately.”

He laughed, that playful expression that I remembered all too well back in his eyes. I didn’t want to admit I was glad to see him smile. I missed his smile.

“I know I was drunk, but I wasn’t that bad, was I?”

“I’m not here to stroke your ego.”

“Are you here to stroke something else?”

I rolled my eyes. “Can you be serious for one moment?”

“Yeah, but that moment passed. Come sit down. I don’t bite... Mrs. Foster.” He gestured for me to sit down next to him and instead I sat in the accent chair across from him.

“About this Mrs. Foster thing, how soon can we get an annulment?”

He laughed bitterly. “You want the bad news or the good news first?”

Impatiently, I said, “Just spit it out.”

He nodded and folded his hands together and leaned forward. He put his face in his hands and rubbed hard, as if trying to build up to say something he’d regret.

“Come on, Jude. You’re killing me here.”

“So I called my dad’s lawyer. And apparently, the guy can’t keep his mouth shut.”

“What? What happened?” I didn’t understand what he was talking about.

“I called to see about an annulment...”

“And?”

“It’s possible.”

“Thank God,” I breathed.

“But it means I’ll lose everything.”

“What? Lose everything? What are you talking about?” I didn’t like this turn of events.

“Apparently, as soon as dad’s lawyer found out, he told my dad who promptly changed not only his will but the stipulations of my inheritance as well. I was supposed to receive the first part of my trust fund on my thirtieth birthday which is in six months, but now our ‘situation’ has changed things.”

I shook my head, not understanding, “So what does that mean? What’s going on? I don’t understand.”

“That means, Lacey, that if we divorce I lose my trust fund. Dad thinks that by being married, especially to you, I’ll learn something about responsibility and maturity before I inherit a giant chunk of money.”

“Well, that’s wishful thinking. Delusional even. You don’t even know what the word maturity means.”

“Touché.”

I decided to stop giving him a hard time and said, “I mean, that sucks, but that has nothing to do with me.”

Jude laughed, “You really don’t spare any feelings, do you?”

“I can be a little blunt. But you’ll have to forgive me for not caring that you’ll have to just be like the rest of us and find a job.”

“I have a job—”

“Being a billionaire playboy is not a job.”

“I’m not going to argue with you.” He now seemed majorly annoyed.

“Good because you’ll just lose.”

“Do you have to be right all the time?” he asked testily.

“It’s what I’m good at.”

He smiled gently and said in a soft voice, “I don’t know. I remember a few details from last night and you’re good at a lot of things.”

From the tone of his voice and the wicked gleam in his eyes, I knew “a lot of things” was sexual in nature.

I folded my arms over my chest, pretending to be more upset than I actually was. Inside I was secretly cheering for making an impression on a man who probably had slept with hundreds of girls, movies stars, models, and he was impressed by my moves? I wanted to pat myself on the back. And then I felt stupid and quickly squashed my reaction to his compliment.

“That may be true, but you’ll never get that experience again. You’ll just have your memories to sustain you.”

He laughed and as he did, something near my foot caught his eye.

He got up and bent down next to me. “I was wondering where these had gone.”

To my embarrassment, he was holding my panties from last night.

“Give me those!” I demanded, holding my hand out.

He extended them, I grabbed for them but before my hand clasped around them, he pulled them back. I stood up and placed my hand on my hips and glared at him.

“Stop being such a child.”

“I can’t, it’s in my nature.” He gave me a stupid smile that I’m ashamed to admit made me want to drop my panties again. The panties I was wearing.

“Say please.”

“Huh?” I said distracted by the direction of my own thoughts.

“If you want them back, say please.”

“No way. They’re rightfully mine. Give them back.”

I moved to grab them and he caught my hand in his. He surprised me then as he wound his fingers through mine and pulled me close.

“What are you doing?” I asked softly. I knew my voice betrayed my excitement at being so close to him.

He settled my body against his, but didn’t release me. I looked at our hands wound together. And I realized then that he was still wearing his wedding band. Why hadn’t he taken it off?

Something about the realization stirred my heart. I looked into his eyes and said, “You forgot to take your ring off.”

“So you noticed? I’m not surprised. You notice everything.” He released my hand and traced the side of my face, catching me off guard. It was a tender gesture, not even remotely sexual, but I was turned on by it. That realization made my logical self want to flee, but my legs were glued to that spot as my eyes locked with his.

Desire.

I could see it in his eyes, feel the heat emanating off his body. And I knew as he made eye contact with me he wasn’t faking it. He wanted me. He wanted me bad. And I wanted him too.

He pressed his mouth against mine. He kissed me deeply, never letting go of my face. His lips were gentle as he parted mine with his own, letting his tongue take its time to explore my mouth.

I sighed against him, loving the feel of his warm hands against my face as he kissed me. I couldn’t help myself as I brought my hands up to his chest, digging my nails into his shirt. Then I encircled his neck with my arms, pressing my breasts against his shirt, trying my best to get closer to him, needing to feel his body pressed against mine.

He broke the kiss to look down between us, and I could feel his manhood pressing against the inside of my thigh. He met my eyes as if asking for permission.

“What are you waiting for?” was my answer.

He picked me up then and I wrapped my legs around his waist. He carried me into the bedroom and placed me down on the bed.

He didn’t hurry as he undressed me. And I wasn’t in any hurry to stop him. I wanted this. If I was truthful with myself, I’d wanted him since I’d laid eyes on him in the restaurant.

He pulled off my jeans and tossed them to the side. He made short work of the rest of my clothes, ridding me of my bra but keeping my panties on.

I didn’t shy away from his gaze. I liked the way he looked at me. He studied me as if he were trying to memorize every part of me. His gaze made me feel beautiful and wanted.

He began to unbutton his shirt, but I couldn’t wait that long to touch him again. I sat up and helped him, sliding my hands over his warm, heavily muscled body. I pushed his shirt down his broad shoulders, marveling at how chiseled and perfect he was. I started at his pants, unbuttoning them and pushing them down his legs. He stood up and in one smooth motion, let his pants and boxers fall to the floor.

I reached for his sex, stroking it boldly as it pulsated in my hands. I leaned down to take it in my mouth but he didn’t let me.

Instead, he pushed me back against the bed and covered my body with his own. He didn’t waste any time, pulling one of my nipples into his mouth while roughly squeezing the other one.

“Jude,” I gasped.

He abruptly stopped and started planting kisses between my breasts, making his way downwards. His warm mouth against my skin triggered sensation after glorious sensation.

He continued planting kisses on my belly, until he was kneeling between my knees. He parted my thighs with his hands and began placing kisses there as well. I gasped, as he neared my femininity and tried not to scream as his tongue began tracing circles around my clit through the fabric of my panties.

I was wet and shaking as he grabbed my hips in his hands and pulled my body closer to his face, pushing my panties to the side, lowering his mouth to my sex as he alternated between kissing my clit and licking my folds. I spread my legs wider and grabbed his head, threading my fingers through his hair as my hips rose up and down, rubbing my sex against his mouth, his tongue.

He ripped my panties off and flung the fabric across the room. He thrust his tongue into me then, licking at my wetness, playing with my clit. What his lips couldn’t reach, his tongue sure did, and I rode his face with wild abandonment, gasping his name.

He thrust a finger into me, and my body tensed as I began to come. My insides gripped his finger, and he pushed it in deeper, before pulling it out slowly and licking my juices.

“Turn over,” he ordered. With shaking legs, I did as I was told.

I felt him behind me as I stretched my arms out in front of me, grabbing at the sheets in anticipation of what was coming. He was pressed against my bare butt, and he placed his hands around my waist, pulling me back to where he wanted me.

With one hand, he opened my folds, and I felt him slowly push inch by inch inside of me. I buried my face in the sheets, fighting back a moan as he filled me, stretched me.

It hurt a little, and I realized I was probably still sore from last night’s happenings. All thoughts ceased as he moved inside me, gently at first and then he began to speed up.

“Don’t stop,” I groaned.

He responded by pushing deeper into me, while bringing a hand in between my legs and stroking my clit.

“Jude, oh, Jude.”

“You want more?”

“Yes—” I gasped as this time he shoved into me with more force and I struggled to handle him. I wiggled my hips and attempted to spread my legs wider. He felt... bigger.

He kept pushing into me, pulling out and then thrusting in deeply. I couldn’t help it, I began to come. The feel of his thickness filling me, spreading me wider, sent pleasure radiating from my center, and I started to scream. The pleasure intensified as he continued to rub my clit with every thrust.

My sex quivered and tightened around his.

“Juuudddeee,” I moaned.

“Come for me, baby,” he said, and I did. Hard. I was gasping for breath, shaking all over, so wet, so spent. My thighs shook, my breathing was heavy and I could only lie there in the aftermath of my orgasm as he came inside me, groaning, burying himself deeply into me as he grabbed my breasts.

My nipples were hard in his hands and even as he came I felt myself getting turned on again.

“Already?” Jude asked with a laugh.

“Shut up and fuck me, Jude.”

Without pause, he responded, “Yes, ma’am.”

I tossed my arm over my eyes. Oh God, Lacey, what did you do? What did you do? And the sad part was that I couldn’t even blame drunkenness this time. It was straight up bad judgment and horniness.

I gingerly stood up and looked for my clothes. I tried to rehearse what I would say to Jude. I felt torn between either sneaking out like a guilty person or making a scene in which I blamed him for my bad judgment.

I made my way out of his bedroom and found him sitting on the couch, his back to me with his phone in his hand. He didn’t hear me behind him, his phone had his undivided attention.

I looked over his shoulder to see what he was looking at. I was surprised, so surprised that I guess I must have made a sound.

He looked up at me and smiled wanly. “That expression on your face was exactly like mine when I found these on my phone.”

He showed me a series of selfies of us looking happy and ridiculous. We were posing with Elvis who I assumed officiated our ceremony. I felt sick to my stomach, not because I’d done something so insanely stupid but because I’d never seen myself look happier than the moments caught in those pictures. I looked so carefree, so sure of myself, so happy. And it made me sad to think the inebriated version of myself was the daring, happy one, while sober me was dull and too scared to take chances. Well, I thought guiltily, both versions of me apparently liked having sex with Jude way too much.

“While you were napping I spoke to my dad’s lawyer again. I tried to reason with them, but apparently they’re beyond reason,” Jude said breaking me away from my thoughts. “So Lacey, I have a proposition for you.”

I sat down and tried to look receptive. I didn’t think I wanted to hear his proposition, but I tried to keep an open mind, meanwhile, I shut him down in my head.

“I propose we stay married—”

“You’re insane!” I was suddenly standing up.

“Calm down, calm down, just hear me out,” he said, standing up as well. His brown eyes looked slightly offended.

“No—”

“Lacey, I’m begging you. Just sit down. Let’s have a conversation like reasonable adults. We’ve done enough arguing and bad decision-making for a lifetime in a span of twenty-four hours. Will it really hurt any to just have a discussion?”

He had a point. I grudgingly sat down, folded my arms across my chest and waited for him to continue.

“I’ll give you half of everything.”

I almost fell off the sofa. “What? What are you talking about?” I shook my head as if to clear it.

“If you stay married to me, I’ll give you half of my trust fund.”

“Let me get this right, you want me to condemn myself to a living hell—”

“More like purgatory.”

“Okay then. So, you want me to live in purgatory indefinitely for a lousy inheritance.”

“Not indefinitely. Just six months. And I’m set to inherit two billion dollars.”

I opened my mouth and then closed it. I opened it again and then closed it.

“I think I feel sick. Who has that kind of money? How’d your dad make that much money? Steal it from God?” I leaned my head against the back of the couch. One billion dollars. He was going to give me one billion dollars. Now I began to feel a little ripped off that Oliver had only given me five grand for the trip. To a billionaire, five thousand dollars was probably like fifty cents to us regular people.

“So you’re offering to give me a billion dollars if I stay married to you?”

“Yes, exactly—but I mean, in name only. You can still lead your life. Have your freedom. I just… well we just need to convince Dad that we’re a couple.”

“That shouldn’t be too hard. I can be civil when I need to be.”

Jude chuckled dryly. “Yes, you can be quite charming when you need to be.”

I didn’t like his tone, but I couldn’t help the smile that tugged at the corner of my lips. “You’re mocking me.”

“I sure am,” he sat down next to me and placed a hand over mine.

“So what do you say, Lacey? One billion dollars and all you have to do is pretend to like me.”

“Hmmm... that’ll be a stretch worth more than a billion dollars.”

“Ouch,” he joked.

I laughed and then quickly became serious. “You know, we’ll need ground rules. And what if I, I don’t know, want to date someone—”

“Are you serious? From what I understand you’re perpetually single.”

“Hey!”

“That’s what Misha said.”

“Misha has a big mouth.”

“I think she’s charming,” he said with a small smile.

“She’s married,” I snapped.

He smiled widely then, “Jealous?”

I opened my mouth to deliver a stinging reply and decided to actually act my age. I knew he was ribbing me, trying to get a rise out of me. I felt like I’d been arguing with him since we’d first met. Somehow he brought out my passionate side, which I didn’t even know I had. A lot had changed in the span of 24 hours. I’d changed, or maybe I’d always been like this and never gave myself a chance to live a little. Yes, that was it. I was repressed. Leave it to Vegas to bring out my wild, passionate and promiscuous side.

I sighed. “I’m not jealous. It’s just that if we’re going to fake a marriage, the least you can do is not point out how hot my friends are.”

“Does that mean you’re in?” He looked resplendent.

“Like I said, I’m leaning towards yes, but I have a few rules I would like to cover first.”

“Of course.” He nodded eagerly like an excited school boy.

“First of all, no more of this,” I said, gesturing between us.

He looked confused. “Nudity? Day sex?”

I scowled. “No! No more sex in general. No more sex.” I sounded shrill, but I didn’t care. I had to stop having sex with the guy. It had only happened twice and one of those times I couldn’t remember, but I was starting to feel like an addict and Jude was my drug. I couldn’t let myself become addicted to Jude or his penis.

He frowned. “A sexless marriage sounds miserable.”

“For goodness sake, Jude. It won’t be a real marriage. And we’re all making sacrifices here. I’m pretending to want to be married to an oversexed man-boy—”

“And I’m pretending to want to be married to an undersexed shrew. Got it.”

I wanted to be mad, but he the twinkle in his eye made it clear that he was joking.

“You’re so annoying. Putting up with that should be worth at least an extra million.”

He stuck out his hand, “Consider it done.”

“1.1 billion dollars?” I asked as I shook his hand in a no-nonsense manner.

“Yep.”

“I want it in writing.”

“Err... I’d rather my attorney not know.”

“Then find another attorney, Jude.”

“You’re so bossy.”

“I know.”

“I like it,” he said, tugging me towards him. I tried to push away, but his grip was tight.

“What are you doing?” He was still wearing only a robe and I was getting distracted by the skin I could see. Woah, girl. Calm down.

“I thought we could seal the deal with a kiss, you know like in the movies...”

“I’m not sure what type of movies you’ve been watching, but no thank you,” I pushed away from him again and this time he let me go.

I placed my hands on my hips. “If we’re going to do this, then number one is physical stuff and number two...”

“Hold on. No physical stuff at all?”

“Jude, I already said no sex.”

“Okay, got that, but does that mean no blow jobs, hand jobs, heavy petting while watching movies…”

I wanted to punch him. I couldn’t tell if he were being deliberately thick-headed or not. “None of the above.”

“Can I at least watch you shower?”

“Jude!”

“What? I promise to be quiet.”

“That’s so creepy.”

He smiled, “Yeah, I know. I even creeped myself out. Forget I said that. Okay, no sex or sex-like behavior. Boring. Now, what’s number two?”

I frowned. What was number two? And then I remembered. “No emotions. We need to stay focused on why we’re doing this and emotions would just make this arrangement messy.”

He nodded. “I get it. I’ll do disgusting man stuff on a daily basis so that you don’t fall in love with me.”

I guffawed. “You’re so arrogant. If anything, you’ll fall in love with me.”

“You think so? Wanna bet on that?”

I was tempted. God, was I tempted, but what if I lost? I stared at Jude, taking in the way his hair fell across his face. He was so handsome, so playful. Quick-witted and fun. He was the opposite of the men I usually dated and that was so intimidating. No, I wouldn’t make a bet that I’d lose and I knew I’d surely lose this one. I was just your girl next door and he was one of the world’s most eligible bachelors. This was all a charade. I was a tool to get his inheritance, or maybe he even saw me as an obstacle. It didn’t matter. As much as I wanted to tell myself we were equals on the playing field, I knew we weren’t. I was outmatched. Jude was in full control of the ball and I was just running around hoping that maybe he’d pass it to me once or twice.

I was glad he couldn’t read my emotions as I said as nonchalantly as possible, “Maturity. Remember, Jude? We were going to be mature about this. Let’s just stick to the plan and to the rules.”

He seemed ready to argue, but then upon seeing the steely look in my eyes, decided against it.

“So what’s the plan?” he asked me.

I didn’t have a ready answer, but apparently, he had something in mind. He gestured for me to sit down. “Well, you handled the rules, let me handle the plan.”

I sat down and warily said, “Do I really want to know what your plan is?”

“Hey, trust me...”

But I didn’t trust him. Not even a little bit.