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Mia stood as well, barely gave us a wave before Max tugged her out of the building.
“I’m game for a strip club,” Ethan said, finishing the last of his drink. “You two in? Ladies get in for free.”
I didn’t need photos of myself outside a strip club. OutdoorNow wouldn’t be too thrilled if there was some kind of repeat of the bar brawl, or me anywhere near bare tits in public, and they weren’t sending the contract for me to review until Monday. Another incident and they could change their minds. Lindy would be with me at the club, but was that any better?
“They have back entrances for celebrities,” Torrey added. Obviously, he’d been before, which meant the place was used to men wanting some privacy and they kept the photographers away.
Looking to Lindy, I figured she’d say no, which made it easy. No way in hell would she want to–
“Sure!”
41
LINDY
* * *
I stared at the ring on my finger and tried so fucking hard to remember how it got there.
“Like the ring, Mrs. James?” Dex called from the other room.
Mrs. James?
I flung open the bathroom door of the impressive hotel suite. If I wasn’t so freaked or confused, I’d have taken a spin in the huge jacuzzi tub, big enough to fit the Silvermines bench.
“Mrs. James?” I practically yelled, waving my left hand around and storming to the side of the bed.
Dex raised his hand, and I couldn’t miss the simple platinum band that glinted in the Vegas sunlight.
“Come back to bed, sugar. Since it seems we got married last night, let’s have our honeymoon.”
He pushed the sheet down, gripped the base of his insanely big, insanely perfect dick and gave it a hard pump. “This is all for you. Wife.”
Dex had zero modesty and I couldn’t say I wasn’t affected. I just came all over his face not five minutes ago. But I’d been too sleepy to notice the rock that weighed down my hand.
“Put that thing away!” I shouted, waving the heavy hand about.
He didn’t stop working his dick. “Not a chance. You don’t remember the strip club. Or the wedding chapel.”
“No!”
“I’ve got a few pictures on my phone. Climb on, sugar, and I’ll tell you all about it.”
I ignored him and the ride he offered and snagged his phone off the bedside table, yanking the power cord from the bottom.
“Pin number,” I said when it didn’t like my fingerprint.
“Two-four-four-nine.”
He abandoned his masturbation session and shifted so he sat on the side of the bed, feet on the floor. His fingers grabbed the hem of my nightie and pulled me between his parted knees. I didn’t pay him any attention, just searched through the icons for his photos.
“Here, sugar.”
I fought him for the phone.
“I’m not keeping them from you. I’ll show you the folder.”
I sighed and relented. “You kept being married from me.”
