Chapter 9 #2
“We’ll see you guys later.” I bend down slightly and lift her over my shoulder, holding her dress down with my forearm so she doesn’t flash the whole lobby.
“Ahh, Silas!” She laughs as her head pops up, and she yells to the guys as we walk away, “Okay, I guess we’re going. Bye, guys! Make good bad decisions! I want to hear all about them tomorrow!”
“Say cheese, Little Linson,” Ace calls out.
I feel her laugh against my back, her body bouncing as one arm braces around my shoulder and the other shoots into the air for the picture.
“Cheese!” she shouts, and it’s so fucking adorable that it almost hurts.
We’re halfway through the lobby when Ace audibly gasps.
“Holy shit,” he yells after us. “You guys get married?”
I turn my head just enough to see him standing there, mouth hanging open, phone still raised in his hand. I frown, trying to figure out how the hell he put that together—until he flips the screen around.
Sure enough, there’s my bride on it. Draped over my shoulder. Beaming. And very clearly flashing the wedding band on her finger.
Well. Shit.
“What happens in Vegas energy?”
“Later.” I shut him down.
Ace laughs under his breath. “You’re insane. I need details.”
“Just pretend we were never here.”
Ace lifts both hands. “Fine. I’ll save my spiral for daylight.”
“Smart choice.” I turn with Brooke still over my shoulder and a prayer that Ace will keep his mouth shut.
Once we’re near the check-in desk, I put her down and instinctively wrap an arm around her waist.
“Welcome to the Bellagio. Do you have a reservation?” the clerk asks.
“Arbuckle.” I pull out my wallet.
“Ah, yes, the Premiere King suite.” She taps away on her keyboard. “Do you have a card you want to use for incidentals, or is the one you used for the reservation okay?”
“That works. Use that card.” I pocket my wallet again since I won’t need it.
Brooke takes my hand in hers. “The Premiere King suite? Isn’t that expensive?”
“Don’t worry about it. I’ve had some lucrative sponsorship deals. Plus, I’m smart with money.” I wink at her.
She smiles. “I can’t wait to see it.”
“Here you are, Mr. Arbuckle. Your room number is on the envelope. You’ll take the main elevator to the thirty-first floor. We hope you enjoy your stay here at the Bellagio.” She slides an envelope to me.
“Thank you,” Brooke and I say together.
As we walk to the elevator, hand in hand, I look at her face. “You okay? We don’t have to do anything. We can just hang out or even go to sleep if you’re tired.”
She looks up at me with heat in her eyes. “I meant what I said earlier, husband.”
“I’m just making sure. And just to be clear on my end”—I lean down so people walking around us can’t hear me—“I can’t wait to get that little dress off and devour every perfect inch of your body.” I kiss her cheek.
She shivers.
I push the elevator call button, and we step in. I watch the buttons light up as we climb.
Within minutes, we’re on our floor. When the doors open, I place my hand on her lower back and lead her out first.
“What’s the room number?” she asks.
“It’s 3149.”
“49! That’s your jersey number! How funny!”
“Oh shit. I guess it’s meant to be, huh?” I wink at her.
“Here it is.” She points to the plaque on the wall next to the door.
I scoop her up into my arms, and she wraps her arms around my neck to hold on. I tap my key against the keypad, and when the lock beeps, I open the door, then push it closed with my foot once we’re inside.
The room is quiet compared to the busy street below. Lights glittering through the floor-to-ceiling windows.
“This is so pretty, Silas. Thank you for doing this.” She turns my face to hers and kisses me.
When she pulls away, I set her on her feet. “Anything for you.”
She studies me for a minute. “You really mean that, don’t you?”
“Hell yeah, I do.” I kiss the tip of her nose.
She smiles as she kicks off her shoes. “Ahh, that feels so good. I don’t understand how women can stand to wear heels. I mean, I know they look good, but my feet hate me right now.”
She turns to face me, and we stand there for a second, the wife and husband settling between us.
“Well, you said you wanted the title,” she says lightly. “Guess you could say this escalated quickly.” She holds up her hand and twists her ring.
I can’t help but laugh as I step closer, crowding her space until her back touches the window. “Maybe not the one I had in mind originally, but the meaning of it is all the same. I’m yours, Brooke.” I brush my knuckles down her cheek.
Her breath hitches when my hands find her waist. “To think it all started with a kiss cam.”
“Nah, for me, it started way before then,” I murmur, dipping my head to kiss her slower this time. Like I’m not in a rush. Because we have all night.
Her fingers slide into my hair as mine trace the curve of her back, following the smooth line of skin the silver dress doesn’t cover.
She breaks the kiss and exhales against my mouth. “Silas, we’re really married.”
I smile, my lips brushing hers. “We really are.”
“How …” she starts. “I mean, how long ago did it start for you?”
“Hard to say an exact time. I guess you could say when we went to the rodeo in the fall, I was pretty certain you were meant to be mine, but I had an obstacle in my way. Your douchebag ex-boyfriend.” I lean in to kiss her again. “So, let’s just say that I’ve wanted this for a really long time.”
I unzip her dress as I look into her eyes, gauging her response as the fabric falls and silver pools at her feet, leaving her standing there, naked, except for a tiny piece of fabric covering her pussy.
“Goddamn. You are so fucking beautiful it hurts.”
She looks up at me, heat in her eyes. “So, are you saying this wasn’t just a spontaneous decision for you?”
I kiss one corner of her mouth. Then the other. “No. If anything, I think it was long overdue.”
“It wasn’t spontaneous for me either. I … haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.”
She crashes her mouth to mine, reaching for the buttons of my shirt, working her way down quickly.
When she reaches the last one, she pushes my shirt off my shoulders, and I shrug out of it, letting it drop to the floor near her dress.
She pulls on the button of my jeans, then works the zipper down.
I push them down and step out of them, leaving me standing in front of her in my boxers.
“Good God. You think I’m beautiful? This”—she waves her arm in front of her—“is unreal.”
“Trust me, it’s very real.”
I grab my dick over my boxers and squeeze it. Her gaze drops to my hand, and her breath hitches.
“And very much yours.”
She steps in closer and runs her hands up my chest, then back down, tracing the lines of my muscles. It tickles a little, and goose bumps break across my skin.
“You ticklish?” She grins.
“Maybe.” I grab her wrist when she scrapes her nails down my side. “Playing dirty.”
Her smile falls slightly, and she tries to pull her hand away, but I don’t let her.
“I want you to touch me, Brooke. Even if it tickles.”
She shakes her head. “It’s not that. I just … I’m not very experienced, so I don’t know if you’re expecting me to be some kind of siren in bed.” She hides her face in her hands. “I don’t want you to be disappointed.”
“Hey.” I take her wrists and pull her hands away from her face. “The only expectation I have for tonight is to make you come as many times as I possibly can.”
“Really?” she says breathily. “I don’t think I’ve ever done that before.”
“You’ve never come?”
Nope, not even gonna finish the thought.
She shakes her head. “I don’t think so. At least not like how I’ve read about or how I’ve heard other girls talk.
Maybe I’m doing something wrong. And I have zero experience with blow jobs because Eli didn’t like to give oral so he didn’t think it was fair to expect me to do it.
” Her head falls back. “God, this is getting embarrassing. I can’t stop talking.
Let’s just forget I said anything. Carry on with making me come.
” Her arms slide around my waist, and she pulls me in closer.
I rest my forehead against hers, and my voice is low and gentle as I say, “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. Just tell me if you want me to stop.”
Her smile turns wicked. “Don’t you dare stop.”
I lift her in my arms and carry her to the bed. And when I lay her down, I kiss her without rushing. Our kisses turn heated, and I want to savor every second I have her in my arms.
I pull away from the kiss and move my body to the side of hers. My erection is damn near painful at this point, twitching against her thigh. I take one of her breasts in my hand, squeezing.
She turns her body slightly to the side, and we kiss again, hands exploring. Her fingers wander down my stomach, and when she starts to slip her hand inside my boxers, I pull my hips back and break the kiss.
“I want your hands on my cock more than you can imagine, but I want this to be all about you first.” I place a kiss on her shoulder. “And I’m dying to taste your pussy.”
With my eyes on hers, I move down her body, taking a minute to suck a nipple into my mouth, pulling her thong off as I go, and lying between her legs, peppering kisses on the soft skin of her belly.
I toss the thong over my shoulder. Then I wrap my arms under her legs and spread them wide so I can take my time.
I drop kisses on the inside of her thigh, and just before I get to her center, I suck on the delicate skin, making her buck her hips.
I release my hold and look up at her. “Don’t move your legs.”
She nods and bites down on her bottom lip.
With one of my hands, I spread her, and she’s just as perfect as I imagined. “Look at you. You’re soaked. Marrying me make you wet, Cupcake?” I don’t wait for an answer.
At the first stroke of my tongue, her hips start to rise again, so I lift my head and set my other hand on her mound.