20. Consummation
20
CONSUMMATION
KEATON
The reception was a blur inside the ballroom of the hotel. Champagne toasts, more photos, more cameras in our faces, and plenty of spontaneous kissing. I danced with Sophie under twinkle lights while everyone watched and claimed we were so in love.
Guess we had them fooled.
Surprisingly, little drama came our way. Melanie mostly focused on a cake fight between Cassandra and Starla that they’d started out in the hotel lobby, far away from us.
Sophie’s bright light shone through it all, the one good thing in all of this. I couldn’t take my eyes off of her. I yearned to be inside of her again.
"You’re staring,” she said, smiling up at me during the final dance of the night, even after I stepped on her foot. She’d tossed aside her heels and placed the balls of her feet on the tips of my shoes instead.
"Hard not to. You’re radiant. Easily the best-looking bride this resort has ever seen."
“Better than Vanessa would have been?”
I tightened my hold around her. “I mean it. Better than anyone. Ever. Of course, I may be biased since you’re mine for ninety days.”
She blinked up at me, surprised. “And you’re mine, Keaton. Don’t forget that.”
“Are you sure you’re okay with all of this?” The sight of her crying during our ceremony still stuck with me, concerning me.
“Little late now to take it all back. And yes, I’m fine, Keaton. I’m choosing to think of this as an adventure, an experiment, if you will.”
“I’m happy to be your test subject. I admit I was a little worried that you might change your mind and not show up at all.”
“I hardly had time to think, between filming and dress fittings. Otherwise, with time on my hands, I’d have been reconsidering this whole plan.”
“When I saw you start down that aisle, walking toward me, and so beautifully…” I had no words to describe that moment in time. I touched my forehead to hers. “Thanks for going through with it.”
“You’re welcome.” She closed her eyes as the song came to a close.
I twirled her out and back into my arms. Everyone clapped and begged to see us kiss once more. If I believed in such things as fairy tales, this might be as close as I could get to one.
Not that I considered myself a charming prince.
Then the lights went up, and I heard Melanie call out, “That’s a wrap. We got everything we needed here. Now for the final shots as the happy couple proceeds to their suite for the night.”
Three takes of me carrying Sophie over the threshold and to our red rose-petal covered bed was two takes too many in front of the camera crew. I was ready to take my bride to bed, and over my dead body would that show up on national TV.
“You got enough to work with,” I growled when Melanie demanded one more shot. I pretty much shoved them all out the door of our suite.
Finally alone, Sophie and I shared a glance and we both breathed a sigh of relief at the same time.
“We did it,” she said. It was late, my buzz was gone, but my desire for her grew stronger by the minute.
Sophie groaned and kicked off her heels. "My feet are killing me.”
I loosened my tie and sat on the couch. I cracked the knuckles in each hand, wiggling them. “Lucky for you I came prepared. My fingers are ready. Come here. ”
“Perfect,” she chuckled and sat. Her feet landed in my lap and I went to work, easing her suffering thanks to the tall stilettos she wore all night.
“We should probably talk about how we’re going to handle the next ninety days,” she suggested between tiny moans as I kneaded the balls of her feet.
“You want to know what I think?”
She smirked. “You’re all for spontaneous acts of combustion?”
“It’s pretty amazing how much you know me so well already.” A crooked smile smoldered on my lips. Once I felt her feet were satisfied I moved higher, under her dress, up her calves, past her knees and thighs. “My fingers can do even more to please you.”
She stopped my progress. “This gown is so tight, they practically painted it on me. I don’t think I can spread my legs for you while I’m in it.”
“You know the remedy for that. Take it off.” I dipped my voice an octave lower, scanning her body.
She stood and crossed to a mirrored closet door. I watched her reflection in the glass as she twisted and tried unzipping the back of it.
“If you want your husband to help, just ask nicely,” I prodded.
Her response was a husky, seductive purr that sent shivers down my spine. “Please?” She purred. How could I say no?
I stalked up behind her, unable to resist the temptation any longer. Slowly, I dragged the zipper down, revealing more and more of her bare skin with each inch. My pulse thundered in my ears as we locked eyes in the mirror. The heat between us like we were the last man and woman on Earth.
She stepped out of the gown and hung it up before swiveling around to face me in a white lace bustier and thong. Our bodies met in a searing embrace, our skin pressed tight against each other's.
“Guess we’ll never need the pillow wall again,” she chuckled and gathered the red rose petals that had formed a heart shape on the bed.
I circled my arms around her. "No walls between us. From this day forward.
She crashed her mouth over mine like a starving creature, my lips her only sustenance. I backed her toward the bed. Our tongues danced wildly while her hands fumbled with my buttons. The raw desire coursing through me was undeniable. I couldn't get enough of her.
“I almost forgot about consummating our marriage tonight,” she teased between kisses.
“Believe me, burying myself deep inside of you was the only thing that got me through the reception.”
Finally free from my shirt, she pushed me onto the bed and climbed on top of me. My hands skimmed her back and cupped her full backside. Her soft curves molded perfectly against my hardness; every inch of flesh craved contact.
“What would you like, my wife?” I asked, voice gruff, the word wife becoming my favorite. I watched her pulse beat at the base of her throat, wanting to put my lips there next, but she had other plans.
“To give my husband a ride.” She suggested, her words igniting me further. “For starters.”
My gaze darkened, barely restraining myself. “There’s a condom in my wallet.”
She moved deliberately, her intentions clear, and I groaned as anticipation flooded my body.She ripped the packet with her mouth and sheathed me expertly.
She straddled me slowly, lowering herself onto my throbbing cock until we were completely one. It wouldn’t be long before I came undone within her tight walls.
An exchange of power drove us, sparked by carnal desire. Nothing about the way we touched felt forced. Every kiss, and caress quickly became intimate and desired. The moans of my name on her lips only urged me on to finish on a roar.
The countdown began. Ninety days of this could ruin me.
When the morning light cut through the hotel curtains, I should have woken her, but for a minute, I didn’t move, only stared down at the sleeping beauty in my arms. Tangled hair over bare shoulders made for a lovely view of my wife-for-now. My marketing consultant. My friend-turned-bedmate.
I should panic, thinking about how we were going to keep this ruse up for another ninety days without losing our minds. Instead, all I could think about was how perfect she looked in my bed, and how badly I wanted to be inside of her again.
She stirred against me, stretching with a soft, satisfied hum that sent a shot of heat straight to my groin.
“Morning,” she mumbled, eyes still half-closed.
“Morning, my wife, ” I said, my voice rough with sleep—and need.
Her lips curved slowly. “Sounds so strange… say it again.”
“Wife.” Strange, yes. But a part of me liked it. I leaned in and kissed her shoulder, then lower, and lower still until her breath hitched. I wanted to taste her and hear all her moans again. I wanted to chase every one of her little reactions until I knew them all by heart.
“Keaton,” she warned, breathless. “We should probably talk about?—”
“Later.” I slid on top of her, my weight braced on my forearms. “Right now, I’m busy.”
She grinned up at me. “Oh? Is morning sex your thing?”
I kissed her. “You’re my thing. But yes. Especially this morning-after where the husband—that’s me, in case you forgot—gets to remind his wife—you—exactly how good things will be for the next ninety days.”
“Hm. Bold move,” she murmured as I nudged her thighs open and shifted between. I nipped her bottom lip.
We didn’t last long. The tension had been simmering since last night. Hell, it had been simmering since the first time she walked into my bar and challenged everything I thought I wanted.
It was fast this time—urgent, breathy, full of messy kisses and whispered promises we’d let slip and probably had to unpack later. But it felt good.
After, we lay tangled in each other, legs twisted, hands roaming lazily.
“Do you think Melanie’s going to show up with cameras again today?” Sophie asked, trailing her fingers down my chest.
I groaned. “Don’t even joke. She texted last night. Said she’ll have a copy of the fake marriage license to us by noon. And she wants a ‘recap interview’ before we fly back to Holly Creek.”
“Of course she does. And if I have my way, we’ll be poolside sipping on cans of your brews while being filmed.” Sophie stretched and rolled onto her side, propping her head on her hand.
A corner of my mouth lifted, beguiled by her brilliance. “Good thinking, badass marketing pro.”
God, she was beautiful like this—playful eyes, tousled hair, naked in my bed. I wanted to lock the door and keep her here for the full ninety days without interruption.
But that wasn’t how this worked.
Sophie sat up, pulling the sheet with her. “Melanie said she’ll be flying in once a month to check in for film updates. Make sure we’re still convincingly blissful. We’re supposed to keep up appearances on our social media platforms, too, and they have the right to use anything we post however they see fit. Think you can handle all the attention, much less being married to me that long?”
I dragged a hand down my face, pretending to think. “Hmm. Tough call. You do steal the covers. And you drool a little in your sleep.”
She threw a pillow at me.
I caught it and tossed it aside. “Yeah. I can handle it.”
“And you fart in yours.” She laughed and flopped back beside me. I’d started craving her in a way I hadn’t expected.
“Must be the brews. You marry a brew man you get special treatment.” I laughed with her, lacing my fingers with hers, and we quieted down for a minute. “What’ll you do with your half of the payday?”
Her smile widened. “Use the momentum to go national. This account with you is already drawing attention. I have emails from two potential clients in L.A. and another in Chicago. With the money, I can hire a team, take on more accounts, maybe finally get my own office.”
There was the truth. National clients. L.A. and Chicago. A team. A life built far away from Holly Creek—and me.
So that was her plan.
Ninety days, then she was gone. Off to build her empire. I was just the stepping stone. The guy she married for a headline, a campaign, a viral rebrand. She was smart, I’d give her that.
But it still stung.
Because no matter how good her mouth felt on mine or how amazing she looked naked in my sheets or the sound of my name on her moan as I did all kinds of sexy things with her, part of her was already gone. Planning her next move.
Just like Starla. Just like Cassandra. Just like every other woman on the show who sought out the fastest way to fame. The Keaton Kingston Experience was a step ladder for Sophie. That was all.
She noticed my silence. “Hey,” she said, crawling toward me and placing her hands on my shoulders. “You told me that whatever happens, we’ll figure it out together. Right?”
Her eyes held something soft. Something I didn’t want to name. Something I didn’t trust—but God, I wanted to.
She pressed a kiss to my chest, then my jaw, then my lips.
“I’m not going anywhere until the time’s up, and maybe not even then,” she whispered. “If you don’t kick me out, then I might stay.”
“Is that a promise, Mrs. Kingston?” I chuckled at calling her that, even though part of my heart ached. I suppose a little fun was exactly what I needed. Just had to keep my heart out of this.
“Sounds official. Mr. and Mrs. Kingston. Wild. Has a certain ring to it.” She peppered my jaw with kisses. “Just don’t forget I’m also your marketing consultant. In personal and business, I know all your weaknesses now.”
I smirked. “You think? Then what’s my number one weakness?”
She kissed me again. “Me. At least, if it isn’t now, it should be.”
Damn right.
Maybe ninety days wouldn’t be the end.
I could figure out a way to make her want more with me and stay. Forever. And that thought made me hard again—my body wanting to claim her as mine.
“Mm. Why Mr. Kingston. You’re not sick of me yet?” She teased, as she slid down on my cock, rocking on me so good, I quickly lost myself in the pleasure of her. This marriage of ours coming to an end was a problem for the future me to figure out before the expiration date. Right now, buried so deep inside of her, my one job was to convince her I was all she needed.