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I roll over in bed and pain lances through my brain like someone took a red-hot poker to my gray cells. My mouth is so dry that my tongue is almost stuck to the roof of my mouth. I roll to sit upright, gently prying my eyes open, and hold my hand up to try and ward off the light coming in through the open drapes of the bedroom. My stomach roils as I swing my feet to the floor and my gaze catches on a naked body.
As I groan and turn to take a closer look, my head an empty expanse of nothing. Shock renders me frozen as I realize it’s not just any naked body, but Audrey. My Audrey is naked in bed beside me, and I can’t seem to remember a single thing. The sheet is pooled on the curve of her delectable ass, the smooth silky skin of her back making my fingers itch to touch her.
Her dark hair falls over her face in wild disarray as she snores softly, her arms under the pillow allowing me a teasing glimpse of the side of her breasts. Fuck, what did we do? How did we end up here naked in this bed together? I’ll be so fucking pissed if we had sex and I was too drunk to remember it, but more than that, I’ll be pissed at myself for touching her when she was in that state to begin with.
I stand and take one last look at her before I head to the bathroom. Hopefully, a shower will clear some of the gaps in my memory and I can go out there armed with some sense of what I might expect when she wakes up. Turning the shower to cold, I hiss as I step under the freezing spray, hoping the ice water can unlock some of the fuzzy memories from my fogged-up brain.
How did I end up here with the woman who has haunted my dreams for so many years naked in my bed? The last thing I remember is drinking with her at the bar as we laughed about all the shit we’d gotten up to in college. As I scrub my body with the shower gel provided by the hotel, I spin the dial to warm my shivering body and, slowly, snippets of memory start to flash behind my eyes.
A flash of Audrey and I at the poker table, her head tipped back with a smile as she raised her fisted hands for my lips, asking me for luck, crosses my brain. Of me kissing her hand and whispering something in her ear that made her blush before she turned and threw the dice, and a cheer as she pulled the chips toward her.
The scene flashes again as water pummels my muscles, and I see her caged between my forearms, her head tipped back. A look of pure lust on her stunning face as her hands grip my shirt. The sweet, succulent taste of her lips on mine and the naked hunger in her eyes. I can practically feel her skin beneath my fingers, but it’s all so blurry, like a dream just out of reach. I can almost touch it, but the gaps are taking it further out of my reach the harder I try and hold on to it.
I ache as the ghost of her touch wanders over my skin, my cock aching and stiff against my belly. I fist my length, stroking as a hiss whispers between my teeth. Even the faded, misty memory of Audrey is better than any other sexual experience I’ve ever had. To think she’s just on the other side of that door, naked in my bed, and I haven’t got enough memories to piece together exactly what happened between us last night.
Knowing I won’t disrespect her by jerking off like an inexperienced and uncontrolled boy, I grab the shampoo and, ignoring my aching dick, begin to wash the smell of stale booze and regret from my hair. As the suds run down my neck, a piercing scream rips through the room. Without thought, I wrench the shower door open and run. My only thought is the sound of anguish coming from Audrey.
I barrel into the suite where Audrey is sitting up in bed, a sheet barely covering her gorgeous body. I’m momentarily held frozen in the grasp of her beauty, as her dark hair falls around her shoulders and her swollen lips tease me with the promise of pure sin, but her eyes are locked on her hand, and I follow her gaze to the huge diamond ring on the third finger of her left hand.
My heart pounds in my chest as I see the princess-cut diamond nestled against a wedding band made from pink diamonds beside it. I can hardly take in what I’m seeing, as her head rises and her deep brown eyes find mine in panic.
“Please tell me we didn’t?”
Cold bubbles of shampoo run down my chest, reminding me of my nakedness as I face the only woman I’ve ever wanted and the only one I ever failed. I want to tell her it will be okay, that we didn’t go to the Little White Wedding Chapel last night and make a huge mistake, but I can’t. Because every memory from the night before is now blasting me with clear precision.
“Hudson, for fuck’s sake, say something!”
I can hear the panic, mixed with anger and something more, something my heart wants to hold on to in the cold harsh light of day. “We did.”
I spin on bare feet and walk back into the bathroom, feeling like a fucking failure, my shoulders hunched with shame and defeat. Not for marrying her. I’d marry Audrey in a heartbeat if I knew it was what she wanted, but for taking advantage and there’s no doubt that’s what I did. I let my heart and what I wanted carry me away. The memories are coming quick and easily now, flooding my brain with clarity as I rinse off my body in the warm rainfall shower.
Of Audrey and me walking into the chapel. Of us saying our vows. Of her giggling and holding onto me as I slid the rings over her knuckles. At some point, I remember a picture being taken and then a sting and buzz. I almost wrench my neck as I turn to look over my shoulder and see the fresh ink on my skin.
There, for all the world to see, is a tiny rose with our initials intertwined among the thorns and leaves surrounding it. Part of me wants to erase every part of what happened last night but there’s a small part of me that will never regret what happened. I know Audrey will want this ended and dealt with secretly and cleanly, and I’d never take that from her. She hates me and she’s made that very clear. What we shared years ago, and what I did, wounded her in a way she can never forgive me, and I have to live with that.
Pulling a towel around my waist, I brush my teeth and give myself a minute to settle my raging emotions so I can go out there and be the calm, controlled, unemotional bastard that she knows me as now. Pulling open the door, I see her dressed in the outfit from the wedding. Even rumpled and disheveled, she’s the most beautiful woman in the world and, for a brief moment, she was mine again, but now I have to do the right thing.
My only relief is that we didn’t have sex. Not because I didn’t want her, but because I want her more than anything. If I ever get the privilege of touching her like that again, I want her to be fully on board with that, and I can see by the look in her eyes that she isn’t right now.
Her anguish cuts a jagged path through my heart, flaying the broken edges, but this isn’t about me. It’s about making things right and I have the chance to do that now.
I feel her eyes trail over my skin, pricks of heat causing my blood to heat and I know she wants me. I know this attraction between us is real. It’s always been real. It’s the small hope that keeps me coming back for more of her tongue lashings. It’s the tiny kernel of light that, maybe one day, I can earn my way back into her affections. But not like this.
“I’m sorry, Audrey. I make no excuses for my behavior or my lack of control. What I allowed to happen was unforgivable and I’ll make sure this mistake is rectified immediately. Nobody needs to know about this.”
I see her wince and want to go to her and reassure her that I’ll fix this mess, but she isn’t mine to comfort.
“Stop with the martyr speech. This is as much on me as it is on you.” Audrey rises from the bed and turns her phone to me. “We’re trending.”
I frown as I take her phone and scan the headlines.
‘Kennedy Heiress marries in shock Vegas wedding.’
A picture of the two of us, smiling at the camera, fills the screen and, despite the circumstances, I can’t help but wish it were real. I read on, scrolling down the hundreds of comments and new headlines.
‘Heiress marries in shotgun wedding. Could there be a bun in the Kennedy oven?’
My lips curl as each sensational headline is tackier than the one before. I glance up as she holds her hand out for her phone and I pass it back, my fingers skimming her palm, electricity arcing between us.
