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A hopeful smile touches her lips. “Can we pretend something when we go in? The staff are going to wonder why we turned up without any bags. Can we tell them...”
I hold my breath.
Her courage fails her, and she shakes her head. “Never mind.”
“Tell me. Anything.”
She peeps at me through her lashes. “Can we tell them we just got married? It was spur of the moment. We got carried away and now we’re celebrating.”
A smile spreads over my face. There’s a ring on her right hand. I pull it off and slide it down the ring finger of her left hand, and then admire it in the streetlight that’s falling through the window.
Well, fuck. That looks so perfect that if I wasn’t married already, I’d wife this girl immediately.
“Come on, Mrs. Rosetti. Let’s go get you that bridal suite.”
We’re holding hands and grinning like idiots in love when we walk into the hotel. I don’t know which room we get in the end. I can barely listen to the staff because Mia has her arms clasped tight around my waist.
We don’t look like newlyweds in our street clothes, but Mia feels like my bride. The room is huge with acres of bed and a separate lounge, and a view of the city that’s almost as good as the lookout.
“Can I run you a bath, or—”
Mia grabs my face, comes up on her toes and kisses me. Our tongues are soft, and they melt together.
“I’m so sorry,” I murmur urgently between kisses.
She puts a finger over my lips. “Let’s start over. You’re my husband. This is our wedding night. How do you want to spend our wedding night?”
I want to spend it with my tongue on her clit, making her come until her legs are shaking.
I pick Mia up and carry her through the suite to the bedroom. There’s no champagne, there are no rose petals strewn around. It’s disappointing because I want those corny things for us.
That’s when the realization hits me.
I’m going to marry this girl one day. For real. I’m going to see her in the white dress clutching a bouquet of flowers. I want us to eat cake off each other’s fingers. Then I want to take her to a room like this and fuck my wife senseless on a pile of rose petals, and place champagne kisses on her mouth and pussy.
“Laz? What are you thinking about?”
I realize I’ve been staring at her, and I smile. “You.”
I rip the bedclothes back and lay Mia down on the sheets.
“We can just kiss,” I remind her. “We can sleep together without having sex.”
She blinks her beautiful lashes up at me. “Why wouldn’t I want to have sex with my husband?”
And just like that, I’m instantly hard. I try to ignore what’s going on with my dick, though, as that’s what got me into trouble up at the lookout.
Don’t fuck this up, Laz.
You’ve got one chance left with this girl.
Don’t fuck it up.
Mia’s touches are tentative, exploring my body slowly between kisses. Her slender fingers slide beneath my T-shirt sleeves and along my throat.
“I never really get to touch you. Can I touch you?” she whispers.
“Bambi, you can do whatever you want with me.”
