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CHAPTER1
WES
I woke slowlywith a smile on my face. Crisp sheets laid cool against my skin, and a warm body rested under my right arm.
Hell, yeah. I must have hooked up last night.
I scooted a little closer, still only half awake, but my cock fully engaged as it rubbed up against the hard ass in front of me. I skated my right hand over firm abs. Damn, I must have picked up an athlete. For half a second, my mind flickered with a confused reel of images. Bars that were decidedly not located in my hometown of Granville. Colorful shots. Flashing lights. Poker chips…
That’s right. We’re in Vegas, baby!
I thrust my hips a bit more enthusiastically at the thought of a smoking hot pickup in the city of sin and slid my hand up to find…hard, muscled chest?
Huh?
A low groan echoed through the hotel room. In a voice I recognized.
Oh, shit. Beckett!
I scrambled back so fast I nearly fell out of the bed. The one I was sharing with my stepbrother, instead of the female hookup I’d expected.
Beckett turned in time to see me mid-flail, eyes squinted against the light pouring through the gap in the blackout curtains. “Were you just feeling me up?”
“Oops?”
“Oops?” Beckett echoed, sounding incredulous.
“I thought you were a hookup.” I glanced across the room to the second unmade bed.Mybed. “Why am I sleeping here?”
“Probably because you spilled most of the bottle of champagne you insisted on bringing back here last night.”
“Champagne?” I grimaced. “Why the hell would I…”
I trailed off as memory flickered. It was a bit fragmented, but the pieces were all there.
Gambling with Beck. Winning a couple of hundred dollars and celebrating hard. Coming across a gay bar by accident and laughing about it before deciding to dance together because, what the hell, we weren’t homophobes who were afraid to let their swords bump and grind.
At some point, Laurie texted, telling us not to do anything he and Tucker wouldn’t do. About twenty years ago, they’d gotten married secretly, and to my drunk-ass brain, it had sounded like the greatest idea ever. The prank of all pranks.
After a quick break to puke in the bar bathroom—which was probably the only thing that kept me functional enough to make it anywhere else—Beck and I had grabbed an Uber. There were some stops we made I didn’t remember, the last one…it was a doozy. We ended up at a twenty-four-hour chapel.
My prank was supposed to stop with some pics and a joke to freak out our friends, but…
“Ohhh fuck!” Beckett exclaimed beside me in the bed we never should have shared. “Why is there cum dried to my abs?” I looked up just in time to see his eyes widen in horror. “And a ring on my finger! What the fuck? What. The. FUCK!”
“Don’t panic.”
“Too fucking late, Wes! Tell me this isn’t what I think it is.”
“Uh…I don’t know what you think it is,” I hedged.
“Well, I think I’m wearing cum and a wedding ring, and the only one here with me is you.” He grabbed my hand and lifted it to eye level. “And you’re wearing a ring too.”
“Surprise?” I said with a weak grin. “I guess we got a little wild last night.”
He laughed, sounding slightly unhinged. “A wild night is partying with strippers, Wes! It’s not…not…this! You’re not supposed to bang your stepbro, man!”
“Well, hey, at least we got married first?”
