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“That’s it, sweetheart. Fuck yourself with my fingers.”
No one has ever talked to me like that. It’s an added layer of seduction I didn’t know I would like. My heels dig into the mattress, my hands fist into the duvet. When he thrusts his fingers deep inside me and sucks my clit, I come undone.
“Griffin!” I call out as my orgasm hits me with unrelenting pleasure. I ride the wave, my muscles clenching around his fingers repeatedly until my body starts to shake. The aftereffects of my orgasm make my skin tingle. My fingers release the duvet, my limbs now impossibly heavy.
I’m vaguely aware of Griffin withdrawing his fingers, and placing one last kiss on my stomach before he pulls the sides of my robe back together.
“How’s your head?” he whispers.
My palm lifts to my forehead to make sure I still have one. A head that is, because I can’t feel anything. I’m boneless and my brain is mush. So basically, it worked.
“So good,” I tell him, a euphoric giggle escaping from my lips.
One corner of his mouth pulls up revealing that dimple of his. “Good.”
I manage to prop myself up on my elbows.
He leans forward. I think he’s going to kiss me, but a loud knock at the door stops his forward progress. Our eyes dart toward the door.
Another knock. It’s less of a knock and more of a banging.
He retreats and I scramble off the bed, retying my robe as I make my way toward the door.
“God, if I ordered more room service…” I mumble, then yank the door open to find Jess.
Her honey-brown hair is gathered in a messy bun on top of her head, mascara is smudged around her eyes, evidence that she didn’t take her make-up off last night and she’s still in her pajamas, black shorts and matching Peter Pan collared shirt with white piping on the edges. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Jess look quite so disheveled.
“What the hell happened last night?” She pushes past me and into the room.
“Um, do you want the long version or the short?” I ask.
“I can’t believe this is happening.” She starts breathing heavy. I share a look with Griffin. Although it feels odd to go from Griffin’s head between my thighs to Jess rushing into the room in the span of two minutes, I’m grateful that I no longer have a headache and can focus on making sure Jess doesn’t hyperventilate.
“What is happening?” I steady myself for the crisis Jess believes is so important that she couldn’t get dressed before coming over. There’s no way I’m going to tell her about marrying Griffin right now, she’ll have a coronary.
She shoves the tablet in her hands at me.
“What am I looking at?” I ask, scrolling up and down the screen.
She hits the back button and scrolls down until I see the article she’s upset about.
‘Bridal Gown Designer Says ‘I Do’ in Vegas’ I read, my pulse immediately quickening. I’m trying to run the stats on the chances that another bridal gown designer got married in Vegas last night but the numbers get all jumbled in my head. I’m hoping the odds are high.
“What is this?”
“Page Six!” Jess screeches.
“Oh, shit.” My stomach bottoms out. “How would they know? It happened ten hours ago.”
“News travels fast,” Jess takes a sharp breath, “especially when you post a video and it goes viral.”
“Nooo.” I shake my head slowly, but just like everything else about last night, the simple suggestion that something happened and my brain loads the memory. It’s fuzzy, but the imagery is unmistakable. Me in the chapel bathroom, drunkenly recording my thoughts about my new husband.
Jess taps the screen again and the voice in my head syncs up with the sound coming out of her tablet.
I’m married.
Yup, that’s me squealing as I flash my left hand, complete with gold wedding band, at the camera.
