“Fuck,” I cry out as Tyler thrusts into me. We only made it two steps into his condo, and I’m already on the floor lying on my back as he slides his hard cock deep into me.

“I’ve been dreaming of this tight little pussy every second since I left,” he whispers into my ear as his thick shaft stretches me wide. He groans as he buries his cock in all the way to the hilt.

This was definitely worth the plane ride over. I jumped on the first plane leaving for Vegas after his phone call this morning, and now I’m really glad I did.

I wrap my arms around him as he starts to fuck me hard and deep. Our clothes are still on. We were in too much of a hurry to take them off, just taking enough time to fumble with our belt buckles and slide our pants down to only get the necessities out.

I cry out loud as he starts to fuck me hard and deep. There will be time for slow, romantic sex later tonight when we can take our time and properly enjoy each other’s bodies. But right now, I just need to feel him inside me.

It’s not long before our groans become louder and our cries more incoherent. He ramps up the pace, and before long my body gives in and I’m crying out as my pussy pulses in orgasm around him. His body tightens as he gives me one last hard thrust, holds himself deep within me, and comes.

“Welcome back,” he says when we’re both lying on our backs after, looking up at the ridiculously high ceiling while trying to catch our breaths.

“Thanks,” I say with a laugh. “If the foyer is this good, I can’t wait to see the rest of your place.”

“You’ll see it all,” he says, reaching for my hand. He threads his fingers through mine, making me even happier that I made the trip back here. “And don’t worry, we’ll have sex in every room before you leave.”

I’m not thrilled to face my angry boss after what happened, but it’s still worth it to see Tyler. Especially if I get fucked in every room of his beautiful penthouse condo.

After a few minutes, we get up, get dressed, and he gives me a tour of his sick condo. He has almost no outer walls, mainly just windows from the floor to the ceiling, and since it’s a top floor of a high-rise building overlooking the Las Vegas strip, to say the view is spectacular is a massive understatement.

“Wow,” I gasp as I marvel at all of the bright shiny lights down below. It’s beautiful.

“It’s a fun city,” he says, walking up behind me and taking me in his arms. We melt into each other as we watch all of the action down below. “But it gets old after a while. I think I’d like a small town like Summerland better.”

I turn in his arms until we’re face to face, both smiling at each other. I can’t tell if he’s being serious or if he’s teasing me.

“Sure, you might have some of the best chefs in the world here,” I say, grinning at him, “but can you get a submarine as good as Lou’s?”

He shakes his head.

“And sure, you can watch Cirque du Soleil or listen to Celine Dion live, but can you rent The Notebook on DVD? Can you leave your bike on the street without a lock or get food poisoning from the only Chinese takeout place?”

Tyler smiles as he holds me tight. “That’s why Summerland wins, but you haven’t even mentioned the best part.”

“Which is?”

“You,” he says, giving me a soft kiss on the lips. “Any place with you in it is the best place in the world.”

We finish the tour of his condo, and I’m stunned at how nice it is—a huge flat-screen TV over the fireplace, a kitchen that would make Gordon Ramsay weep in envy, and walk-in closets that you can park a car in.

I’m admiring the nineteen jet shower when my phone rings. It’s Emily.

It’s really late at night back home and it could be an emergency, so I answer it even though I just want to let it go to voicemail.

“Hey, Em,” I say, sitting on the ledge of the bathtub as I answer it. “Everything okay?”

She’s crying.

“What happened?” I ask, straightening up as a worried feeling digs deep in my stomach. “Are you okay?”

“I’m sorry, Dahlia,” she says between sniffs. “I didn’t mean to get you into trouble. You’ve been such a good friend to me.”

I can feel the color draining from my face. “What happened?”

“Nick,” she says as a new wave of sobs hits her. “He broke up with me.”

I take a breath of relief. Thank God.

“It’s probably for the best,” I say in a soft tone. “You can do a lot better than him.”

“I don’t deserve better,” she says in a shaky voice. “I fucked up.”

I swallow hard, waiting for it.

“He tricked me into telling him what happened.”

“What happened with what?” I ask, but I already know the answer.

“Between you and Tyler. How you guys got drunk and got married by accident.”

I drop my head as the air is knocked out of my lungs.

“Oh, Emily,” I say, shaking my head in disbelief. “You didn’t?”

“I’m so sorry, Dahlia. I thought he liked me, and I was just telling him a funny story. I didn’t think he would do anything bad with the information. He’s Tyler’s cousin.”

My stomach flutters as I think it over. He doesn’t have any proof, and we can just deny it. It might not be as bad as it seems.

But with everything that has happened lately, Mack is probably going to believe Nick.

“If Mack asks you what happened, please deny everything,” I say, suddenly feeling nauseous. She says she will. “Just try to get some sleep, Emily. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

She apologizes a dozen more times before I hang up the phone with shaking hands.

“Tyler,” I call out as I walk into the bedroom. “Something happened.”

He looks even worse than I feel. He’s on the phone with someone, looking anxious as he paces around the room.

“Of course we’re in love, Mom,” he says as he runs his hand through his hair. I cringe as he nearly yanks out a fistful of his hair. “What was on the video?”

The video? My legs weaken as I listen. It must be our wedding video.

“Yes, the marriage is real,” he says, looking panicked as he walks in circles. “It’s okay, Mom. Stop crying. You’re going to get your gra—”

Tyler lowers the phone and stares at me in shock.

“She hung up on me.”

I gulp. “What video was she talking about?”

He drops onto the bed and puts his hands on his head. “Our wedding video. They got it in the mail.”

“Oh, shit,” I say, dropping onto the bed beside him. All of a sudden my legs can’t support my weight anymore. “I can’t imagine what’s on there.”

“Wait a second,” he says, going through his phone. “I should have checked my email about this before.” After a tense minute, he perks up and then quickly slumps down onto the bed. “I found a receipt from the Pineapple Chapel in my email.”

“And?”

“And it looks like we ordered five wedding videos and sent them to our family and friends.”

I close my eyes and pretend that this is not happening. “That can’t be good,” I whisper to nobody in particular.

Tyler is looking shell-shocked, like he just walked in on his parents having sex.

“There goes the company.”

I want to cry. “There goes the factory.”

I look at Tyler and wonder if something this big is going to break us. I sigh.

There goes my marriage. It was fun while it lasted.