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Someoneelse announced, “Sheis ready!”
Mystomach tightened.Readyfor what?
Iwas jostled out of the dressing room and pushed toward a man in a tuxedo, waiting at the front of the showroom with his back to me.Thefabric hugged his muscular physique, and for a moment,Iwondered how they found an outfit to dress a giant.Hewas broad-shouldered, incredibly tall, and muscular, like anAdonisoverlooking his subjects.
Theman turned to spear me with his sky-blues.
Damon.
Hisdirty blond hair was slicked back for once, a few strands falling carelessly over his forehead.Itseemed he had selected an outfit and changed into it as well.
Damonexamined me closely, hungry eyes undressing me before eating up the distance between us.Twosupersized hands grabbed my face, firm lips covering mine for an unexpected kiss.Histongue thrust inside my mouth, kissing me punishingly hard.Mybody alternated between numbing cold and burning heat until he released me.
“We’llfinish this later.”Thepromise in his eyes sounded like a threat.
Oncemore,Iwas shoved into the limousine and ontoDamon'slap.Hewas on the phone, something about the rings.Hishand landed on my thighs possessively, andIstared at it.
"Damon."Myvoice sounded small. "Whatare we doing?”
"Weare getting married, baby.Itold you this already."
"Stop.”Itried to smack his hand, but he interlaced our fingers.
“Behave.”Thewords were quiet but angry.Itwas as if he’d had a personality transplant within a matter of a day.
Hislips were on my shoulders, traveling up to my neck.Whereit had been thrilling mere hours ago, now it made me recoil.
"No."Theword didn't come out right.Itried to scurry away, but his hand held me in place.
“Itold you numerous timesIdon't like it when you run from me."Hisfingers trailed along my thigh before resting dangerously close to my intimate area. "You'llstop running onceIput a baby in you."
“Youwere supposed to be the good guy,”Igarbled.
"Sometimesyou have to be the bad guy to get what you want."Hedragged a finger along my bottom lip. "Butnow thatIhave everythingIwant,I'lltry to beyourgood guy.I’llrestore your faith,Poppy."
Whenwe pulled up to the chapel,Damonstroked my cheek.
“Baby,Iknow this isn’t how you wanted it to happen, but it’s still our wedding.Tryto make the best of it.”
Myeyes closed to savor the comfort from the calloused hand before the words seeped in.
Wedding?
Ihad repeatedly forgotten throughout the night.Damonwas forcing me to marry him so he could take everything from me, and he wanted me to make the best of it?Iwrenched away, which madeDamonblow out a frustrated exhale.
Thecar door was thrown open, andIwas hit with an ice bath of reality.Damoncarried me out bridal style and explained to a passerby that the bride drank too much.Halfthe people getting married inLasVegaswere drunk.Noone questioned it.Notthe people inside the church, not the photographer, or the person who brought the rings.NotevenElvis, as he declared, “Inow pronounce you husband and wife.It’salso officially midnight.HappyNewYear.”
Blackflower petals and the sound of bottles popping went off at the same timeDamongrabbed me for a soul-stealing kiss.
“Youmarried me at midnight,” was allIcould grumble against his lips.
“Canyou think of a better way for a new start?HappyNewYear,Wife.”
* * *
Imust have blacked out for the rest of the celebration because whenIcame to,Damonwas carrying me outside.Histux jacket was draped around my shoulders, but the frigid air cut into my exposed skin like tiny, sharp razors.
Myhand was splayed on his chest, feeling the taut muscles under his shirt flex.Inthe back of my mind,Iknew it was the drugs heightening my senses.Ididn’t care.Itfelt so good to touch him.
