Chapter 9
The tension was high on the elevator ride.
Checking in had been awkward. Guests and staff stared at her torn dress, Ghost’s disheveled appearance, and their lack of luggage besides his small saddlebag.
Becks hadn’t meant to ask him about money, but it would have to come up eventually now that they were married.
She’d taken two weeks off for her honeymoon with Ritchie.
Now, she would need to spend those two weeks figuring out how to move herself to Mount Grove, instead of Atlanta.
Ghost didn’t seem to give a damn as he paid for the room for two nights, accepted the early check-in fee with no issue, and even requested room service in two hours.
Two hours? Becks’ jaw fell open, which he closed with the crook of his finger.
But seriously—two hours? What exactly did he plan on them doing for two hours before room service arrived?
Yeah, he’d talked about using her dress to tie her to the bed, which sounded hot as fuck, but like, what was he planning on doing after they had sex?
Becks had never been an initiator when it came to sex.
She liked sex, and she had fantasies just like any other woman, but she’d never experienced the mind-blowing, body-crippling orgasm she read about in books or saw in movies.
Ritchie had obviously been her most recent lover, but they weren’t together that often.
Her boyfriend before that had been so rough when he went down on her that it had been painful, but Becks had been too young and awkward to tell him.
He also cheated on her before she found the nerve.
And her boyfriend before that took her virginity in college.
He’d been sweet, but they both were too inexperienced to have the wild, incredible sex art portrayed.
Honestly, up to this point, the best lover she’d ever had was the vibrator Libby bought her on her twenty-fifth birthday after they discovered her ex had been cheating on her.
As soon as the elevator doors opened with a ding, Ghost hoisted Becks up into his arms bridal style and headed toward the room. Becks felt like she’d been struck by lightning. How in the world did this man get her blood pumping so quickly?
Feeling emboldened, Becks ducked her head and pressed her lips to his neck, just below his ear. She could tell he hadn’t shaved that morning, because he wasn’t as thoroughly groomed as he’d been yesterday or Thursday. She had to admit, she didn’t mind the scruff.
“Behave or I’ll end up fucking you in the hall.” Becks’ chest tightened at the gravel in his warning, his voice stoking the fire raging inside her.
“Not really giving me incentive to stop.”
The groan Ghost emitted sounded tortured, like it stemmed from the depths of his soul.
He stopped in front of their door and juggled the keycard against the door lock.
“I have done some despicable things in my life, Rebel, but I will not take my wife for the first time in the hotel hallway.” He threw the door open.
Becks lifted her head to look at him. “So you’ll take me in the hallway our second time?”
Ghost growled. Like actually growled. Becks’ eyes widened as her ovaries readied themselves for battle. Holy fuck… Why was that so hot? It was animalistic and primal and may have impregnated her by immaculate conception. But holy hell!
Ghost kicked the door closed. The lights were off, but the curtains were open, shining the noon sunlight into the white room. He’d gotten them a room with a king bed, which was extra, and a large bathroom suite.
Becks squeaked in surprise when he none too gently dropped her onto the mattress. She sat up on her elbows in time to see him drop his phone, saddlebag, wallet, and gun on the dresser below the wall-mounted TV.
“Let’s get one thing straight, wife.” Becks forgot how to breathe at the word.
That was the first time he’d called her that, and it just made their new reality so much more tangible.
Ghost took off the olive green Harley-Davidson T-shirt he’d gotten married in.
She’d caught glimpses of his chest tattoos and muscles back at her house because the man never seemed to wear a shirt, but this was different.
This time she could look, because he was hers to look at.
Ghost dropped the shirt to the floor and started working on the buckle around his black jeans.
“You’re mine. Only I will ever see your body naked.
Only I will ever touch you, hold you, caress you.
You will have my babies. And under no circumstances will another man ever see you bare and splayed out before him.
Every inch of your body is now my playground.
” His belt hit the floor. “Now stand up.”
Becks had to scramble to get to her feet. Her heels nearly caught on the carpet in her haste to obey.
“Good girl,” Ghost praised.
He reached into his pocket again and pulled out the knife that had already cut two other pieces of clothing off her that morning.
The way he opened it and maneuvered it was intimidating.
He was clearly practiced in wielding it, not like the amateur thugs who walked around with butterfly knives or switch blades.
In a quick swipe, he cut through the thin lace of her halter top.
The dress had buttons in the back, though she didn’t have time to tell him.
His knife-wielding skills might be intimidating, but they were also impressive and hot as hell.
Why did she suddenly see a lot of shopping in her future to replace cut clothing?
He carefully worked the blade into the bodice of her dress, right between her breasts. But he did not cut through her bra. Was that intentional? She wasn’t sure. He kept going, working the blade all the way down past her hips.
Shivers wracked her body as anticipation sang in her blood. Without the halter to hold it up, the dress split down the middle and fell at her feet.
She stood there in her white corset bra, panties, garter, and heels. When she’d dressed that morning, she anticipated a very different scenario. This never even crossed her mind, and yet it was so much better than she could have ever hoped.
She still hadn’t fully processed what had happened at the church—both with Ritchie’s interruption and her decision to follow through with her wedding, just with a different groom.
But at the moment, she didn’t care. She’d overthink and analyze everything later.
Right now, she had a sexy, half-naked man in front of her, and she had never felt more beautiful.
Because he thought she was beautiful. He took in her messy hairdo from the helmet, her full breasts and round belly, her curvy hips and stretch marks, and down to her thick thighs and high heels.
His gaze trailed over every inch of her, and she could see the truth of his words in his green eyes.
She understood why he’d said at the church that his opinion of her mattered the most, even above her own.
Because he saw her flaws. Saw them, and appreciated them. Maybe even loved them.
Ghost kicked away her destroyed dress and tossed his closed knife onto the floor next to his belt. “Get on your knees, Rebel. You’re going to take my boots off, open up my jeans, and then suck your husband’s cock.”
Becks’ heart nearly leapt from her chest at the command.
The air between them thickened as Ghost stared down at her, waiting and demanding.
She loved his authority. It soothed her first-time jitters.
She might not be a virgin, but there was always a level of intimidation with a new partner.
With Ghost, though, it felt natural, like she’d gone down onto her knees in front of him a thousand times.
The berber carpet rubbed against her knees. The rough caress no doubt would leave marks. Her heart drummed in her chest, like sounding a war cry.
Becks wasn’t nervous, though. She didn’t think it was because they were married.
At the end of the day, that was just a piece of paper.
No, it was him. It was them. Somehow, someway, after only two days of knowing each other, they fit.
They worked. It settled something inside her, and despite being the one on her knees, she felt confident and sexy.
Reaching for his boot laces, she arched her back to give him a better view of her ample cleavage. Her dress wasn’t revealing, but her lingerie certainly was. Just like with her heels, Becks always felt better about herself when she wore a sexy bra and panty set.
It took her a second to figure out how his boots were laced. He had wrapped them around his ankles, like they did in the military. After she removed his shoes and socks, she reached for the button of his jeans.
Ghost’s fingers worked their way into her hair, pulling out all the pins and clips that held her hair in the twisted knot at the base of her skull. She liked how his fingers scratched her scalp as he worked, and she imagined him doing the same in the shower as he washed her hair.
“I didn’t tell you to stop, Rebel.”
Becks blinked, startled. She hadn’t meant to stop either, but his unintentional massage had felt so good that she’d closed her eyes and started to lean into his touch.
Trying to shake the fantasy of them in the shower, Becks turned her attention back to his pants.
She worked them over his hips and down his legs, revealing thick muscles and tattooed thighs.
She trailed her eyes all the way up his powerful build to meet his penetrating gaze. “Is this the part where I call you ‘sir’ and ask permission to see how many licks it takes to get to your center?” She wrapped her hand around his wide girth. “I’m told the average is two-hundred and fifty-two.”