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Spence strokes my now-tangled hair before kissing my forehead.
“That was incredible. You were incredible.” He turns me to face him and gently runs his fingers along the curvature of my breasts. “I had thoughts about what that would be like. A lot of thoughts.” He smiles at me. “But that was so fucking hot.”
I press my lips to his, showing him that I definitely agree. But as my high fades, I start to internally panic, just a little.
Spence can clearly sense my shift and pulls me on top of him, his eyes roaming my body once more. “What is it?” He brushes the hair away from my face, and my first thought is that I could get used to this.
I try to smile, but my worry takes control. “What now?” I ask him, my nerves suddenly swarming in my stomach.
His confidence isn’t shaken the way mine is. He gives me a cocky smile, and his green eyes darken with desire all over again. “Well, after we shower together, I’m fucking you again to make up for lost time. And then, I do believe we have a shotgun wedding to attend.”
I roll my eyes playfully at him, but my entire body warms at his comment.
“I have no qualms about feeling you inside me again,” I tell him. “But I mean, with us. What’s next?” I suppose I could just let it happen. I don’t need to have a label or worry about tomorrow. I think we’ve both made it clear what we want.
“Oh, you mean that?” He smirks before winking at me. “I’m going to start shouting about you being my girlfriend all up and down the Las Vegas strip.” He takes my chin in his hand before kissing me, hard. “You’re mine, Declan. And everyone is going to know it.”
***
23
***
SPENCE
“I only agreed to this because of the Elvis aspect.” Isla laughs and pulls Bordeaux into her embrace.
The wedding chapel has options for a traditional wedding, an Elvis-themed wedding, a mob-inspired wedding, or a scenic outdoor Las Vegas wedding. I can’t say I blame her. If I had the opportunity to get married by the King, I’d have to choose that too.
Declan and I have just walked in as Isla and Bordeaux are finalizing the last-minute details for their ceremony. It smells kinda funky, like… patchouli and feet, maybe? I can’t place it, but I do see the flicker of a candle that I’m assuming it trying to cover up the odor. Maybe there was a weird wedding party here before us.
I grip Declan’s hand in mine as Miller and Flynn walk in with their security detail, Kade included. Kade’s eyes flash to our intertwined hands, and he immediately looks away. He’s clearly butthurt over the situation, but I couldn’t give a shit less. She belongs with me.
Once in the chapel, my eyes are assaulted by the flamingo-pink walls. It’s a lot. But it’s also exactly what I expected. I laugh as we walk up the aisle and see the King himself standing at the front of the room, microphone in hand. He starts belting out one of his most infamous songs as we all seat ourselves. Declan slides in the pew first, her short black dress rising even higher on her thighs. I can’t help but reach out and stroke her leg. Having her twice before we came here wasn’t enough—nothing would ever be enough with her. She’s damn near goddess-like.
Elvis moves on to his second song, a ballad that Bordeaux walks down the aisle to. Bordeaux’s ensemble matches Elvis’s quite well. He’s dressed in a head-to-toe spandex suit with flared pant legs. The outfit even has one of those wide belts that I’ve seen in Elvis pictures—he definitely plays the part well, especially with fake sideburns that rival our Elvis impersonators.
Bordeaux is handed a microphone complete with glittery rhinestones. He takes one look at it and laughs, but he sings along with Elvis to “Can’t Help Falling in Love.”
I’m not shocked at this shotgun wedding surprise from the two of them. It’s very fitting for their personalities.
Isla walks down the aisle, and she looks beautiful in a Marilyn Monroe-inspired dress that she rented from the chapel. She wanted the complete experience, and she’s definitely got it. Once she gets up to Elvis and… Bordeaux-Elvis, a worker puts a fan behind her, blowing her white dress up as if she’s posing for one of Marilyn’s iconic photoshoots. We all laugh, and I look over and see Declan tearing up.
“You okay, babe?” I ask, squeezing her knee.
She nods, but she doesn’t take her eyes off Isla and Bordeaux. “They are just so perfect together.”
I drape an arm around her shoulders, pulling her into me, and we watch as their ceremony goes off without a hitch.
“Now, Bordeaux Daniels, if you will place that ring on your beautiful bride’s left ring finger,” the Elvis impersonator says, moving out of the way so the photographer can snap some photos. “Look into her eyes and say, Isla, with this ring, I promise you forever and all of my love, baby.”
The crowd laughs, and Bordeaux does as instructed. Isla brings her right hand to her mouth, covering her smile.
“I promise to always be…” Elvis pauses dramatically before continuing, “your hunka-hunka burning love.” We clap as he impersonates Elvis as he says it.
Bordeaux does the same, letting go of Isla’s hands to imitate the impersonator.
Once we all settle down, Elvis asks Isla to do the same by placing the ring she’s chosen for Bordeaux on his left ring finger.
