Chapter 20 – Wes
TWENTY
WES
The concert is torture.
Pure, unadulterated torture.
We spend the evening in a VIP box, the rest of the band, Leo, and a few other people I know to be friends of Willa’s also in attendance for the final show of her sold-out stadium tour, but spending the night with a mix of friends and acquaintances isn’t what’s torture.
It’s not the concert, which, as always, is impeccable and wildly entertaining, and it’s not having to spend the entire show with the band elbowing me and quietly ribbing me about falling for my fake wife when she’s not paying attention. It’s also not the way there are cameras on us the entire time.
The painful part of the night is watching Harper dance the entire two and a half hours, hips swaying seductively, arms over her head, enjoying herself. She’s the sexiest woman I’ve ever seen, and she isn’t even trying, simply just enjoying herself, and it’s absolute torture. It doesn’t help that there is no doubt in my mind that when we get home tonight, I’m going to fuck my wife for the first time.
I would have skipped this entire night and spent it eating her out and making her moan my name the way she did in the hotel room and again in her design room, but she really wanted to come tonight. I could see the warring on her when the alarm went off, the way she was battling with both desires. I have made a promise to give her everything she wants from here on out, and I won’t break that vow just to please myself.
Not even when she pulls me in close during one of the more sultry songs and grinds her ass against me, the VIP box a chorus of hoots and hollers as she smiles over her shoulder at me. But that’s when I turn her, pull in close, and kiss her, using my hand on her lower back to press her into me.
“Stop, or I’m taking you out of here over my shoulder,” I warn.
She leans in, moving to her tiptoes and putting her lips to my ear. “Promise?”
I quietly groan, closing my eyes to attempt to center myself, knowing she would want to watch the rest of the concert. “Be good, Harper, and you’ll get rewarded.”
She stares at me, a hand moving through the hair at the back of my neck before she smiles. The song changes to a more upbeat, exciting one then, and she smiles.
“Fine, you party pooper,” she says, then bounces off to go dance with Stella.
“That one’s a handful,” Beck says, walking over to me and handing me a fresh beer. I watch as my wife smiles and jumps, holding hands with Stella and singing at the top of her lungs.
“Don’t I know it,” I say, but I say it with a wide smile.
Finally, the concert is over, and I reach for Harper’s hand, gripping it tight before pulling her close to me, about to whisper in her ear that we’re going to sneak out now while everyone is distracted. Unfortunately, a hand on my shoulder stops me. I close my eyes, breathing in deep through my nose before Leo even speaks in my ear.
“Don’t even fucking think about it,” he says in a low tone. “You have to go to this after-party. A million cameras are going to be there.”
“Leo,” I say in warning, and Harper looks over her shoulder at me, a look of amusement on her lips.
She is thoroughly entertained by this.
“No.” He shakes his head, and I open my mouth to argue more, but he speaks instead. “There are going to be people there she needs to talk to. Designers and fashion magazines. Willa’s stylist is specifically very interested in talking to her.”
I close my eyes and take a deep breath, knowing with that new information alone, I know we have to go. I’ll do anything to help Harper reclaim her career after the damage her ex has done to it.
“An hour, tops,” I say, giving him a glare.
He looks from me to my smiling wife, who hasn’t heard the conversation over the noise, but I’m sure she has pieced it together.
“An hour,” he agrees before walking off.
“We can’t get out of the after-party,” I tell Harper, pulling her in close. In her thin, skin-tight dress, I can feel every curve of her as my hand moves to rest on her lower back. This dress has been the biggest source of my pain and suffering tonight.
“And why would you want to get out of such a fun evening?” she asks, her smile widening, her head tipping up to look at me. She gently grazes her lips along the underside of my jaw, and I groan, something she probably feels more than hears.
I lower my hand to her ass, pressing her close to me. “Because I’m ready to fuck my wife.”
Her eyes go wide, feeling my hardening cock against her. The tables have clearly turned, with her playing cool and my absolutely desperate need for her, and it’s clear she’s greatly enjoying this.
“Oh,” she mouths, and I smile back.
“Come on. Let’s get this over with.”
Harper is giddy at the after-party, eyes wide as she looks around the room filled with celebrities and musicians. I forgot this, a bit jaded to it, how exciting it can be to see your idols all together in the same room, acting like normal people.
“You good?” I ask, leaning into her.
“I, uh,” she starts, looking around, her eyes going wide when she catches her eye on boy band singer Mickey Kline. “Yeah. It’s just a lot. I’ve never been to something like this, been around so many celebrities.”
I’m sure her ex had the opportunity to go to star-studded events, but from what it seems like, he wouldn’t have taken her if he did. I hate that she was treated so poorly, but I’m secretly grateful I’m the one who gets to give her these experiences, the one who gets to see her eyes get wide and excited.
“You want a drink?” I ask, tipping my head toward the bar in the corner. “Relax a bit?”
She shakes her head quickly, not hesitating at all, like she’s already considered and vetoed this option.
“You sure?”
“l have a soda. I want…” She bites her lip, looking around, then at me, eyes landing on my lips. “I want to remember tonight fully. Nothing twisting up my mind.”
My heart races, and I pull her in close, my lips going to the spot beneath her ear and pressing there as I whisper. “I have a feeling I could be absolutely hammered tonight, and every moment from the second we get home will still be imprinted on my brain for eternity.”
Her body shivers beneath my hands, and I smile.
“Yeah, but I don’t want to give you even the slightest excuse not to consummate this marriage tonight, Mr. Holden,” she whispers, and even though the room is loud, I hear every single word, feeling it in my gut.
“Leo’s not looking,” I say. “We could sneak out.” Her arms on my neck tighten, and her lips roll in, hiding a smile as she looks at something over my shoulder. I sigh, knowing exactly what—or rather, who —it is.
“The fuck I’m not,” Leo says from behind me, a hand going to my shoulder. I groan, then turn to him, a shit-eating grin on his lips like he loves my misery. “Now come. Willa wants to say hi to your wife.” I lean back, looking at Harper, whose eyes have gone wide with panic. “She wants to talk to you about your designs. She’s already working on the aesthetic for the next album.”
Harper’s almost pale when I shift her, moving to guide her in the direction of our host. “Come on, little wife, time to make your move.”