This is just to help keep him in the country so he can play ball. Period.
“Hello and welcome. I’m Joseph Herring, and I want to thank you for coming here and letting us share in this special day with you. . .” He goes on, talking about love and faith, recites a little scripture about marriage, but I tune most of it out.
His speech lasts a few more minutes before he directs his focus back to us completely. “And now, your vows.”
We look at each other dumbly. It hadn’t occurred to us that we’d need to say anything during this service. We both shake our heads. “We couldn’t have said it better than you, sir. We’re good.” Mr. Herring looks down at both of us with a thin smile. “All right, then, the rings please.”
Shit. “We’re going to skip those too,” I say, looking over at Ryon, my eyes wide.
“Darling.” He draws out the word and reaches into his pocket, pulling out a small black box. “She’s been so excited about today she must have forgotten we already chose our rings.”
He opens the box, pulling out a solid gold ring, and a double silver band, covered in diamonds, with a giant diamond set in the center. I am shocked. When? Where? Did his agent buy those for him?
“Great,” the justice of the peace says, flipping the page in his small book. “Do you, Gillian Sannow, take Ryon Daniels to be your husband?”
“I do,” I say as Ryon slips the ring onto my finger.
“And do you, Ryon Daniels, take Gillian Sannow to be your wife?”
“I absolutely do.” He passes me the ring and I slide it on his finger.
“By the authority vested in me by the state of Nevada, I pronounce you to each other, husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride.”
Ryon’s eyes are firmly set on mine. He licks his lips and my heart starts to race as my stomach flips. His hands glide down my arms, and he swiftly wraps me around the waist and pulls me in.
He doesn’t kiss me right away. He just looks at me. There’s something in his eyes. It’s fierce, drawing me in, capturing every single piece of me as he slowly lowers his lips to mine.
Tingles spread across my mouth, the electricity sparking as our lips seal together. He gently slips his tongue into my mouth, licking and tasting. This kiss feels different. The tingles move down my arms and through my chest, curling around my heart and squeezing.
I can feel him. I can feel him all through my body.
He’s no longer just Ryon Daniels. . .
He’s my husband.
7
Ryon
Unlocking the door to our hotel room, I feel different.
That kiss. . . It changed something inside. Something feral, something raw, carnal.
She’s mine now.
The thought makes my entire body hot. I want to show off my wife, take her out, put her on display to the rest of the world, and let them know she’s mine.
But I can’t. I made her a promise, and I’m going to keep it. I’ll keep her safe, I won’t let her lose her job because of me. I brought her into this mess, and I won’t let it hurt her.
“Here we are,” I say, fanning out my arm for her to go in first.
“Does anyone else know we’re here?” she asks as she brushes past me into the room.
The scent of her perfume invades my senses, causing my cock to twitch. She’s fucking perfect. Absolutely and utterly perfect. And she doesn’t even know it.
“Nope.”
“Good.” She drops her bag to the floor and looks around.
Opening up the mini fridge, I pull out a few small bottles of whiskey. “Drink?” She’s quiet for a second, but it’s long enough for me to see she’s trying to decide. “Come on, it is our wedding night, and neither of us are driving until the morning. Nothing wrong with enjoying a couple.”
“All right, you convinced me.” She comes to my side and I hand her a bottle.
Twisting the cap, I lift mine in the air. “To us,” I say. She lifts her bottle in unison and knocks it against mine. We down our shots quickly. “Want another?” I ask.
“Fuck it, it is our wedding night,” she says as she wipes her wrist across her mouth and sets the small bottle down on the table.
“That’s my girl.”
Handing her a second, we drink them just as fast as the first. My stomach is warm and my mouth is hot. I can feel the alcohol as it hits my blood stream and gives me a renewed sense of confidence.
It’s our wedding night. I just got married. The thought is exciting, sending a surge of electricity through my veins.
“This is nice, Ryon. The view is amazing.” Gil moves to the window to look out it, crossing her arms. “Wow, look at how incredible the city looks at night.”
Walking up behind her, I wrap my arms around her waist and tuck my chin into the crook of her neck. “It really is,” I say as I peer out the window.
“What are you doing?” she asks with a giggle. “Are you drunk already? Did I marry a lightweight?”
“I’m not drunk, and I’m certainly not a lightweight. But, I am holding my wife on our first night together. I mean, it is our wedding night, shouldn’t we make it official?” Rubbing the tip of my nose against her skin, I place a kiss on her cheek. Then another on the curve of her jaw, and another on her neck.
Gil tilts her head to the side, giving me room as she asks, “Official how? The license, my signature on the marriage certificate, that’s what makes this official.”
“I did, and now I’m want the rest.” Fluttering kisses down her neck, I pull the collar of her shirt off her shoulder and continue kissing across the exposed skin. “You are my wife. I am your husband. I just think we should make this little thing as real as possible, don’t you agree?”
She giggles, and fuck, even that giggle drives me crazy. I want to tear her off her feet and throw her on the bed. I won’t, I’ll keep myself in control, but I can’t promise it will stay that way for very long.
I had her once as my fiancée, now I want her as my wife. I want to feel her as mine, to see her body ignite, and get wet from my touch.
She might see this as just an agreement on a piece of paper, but I’m starting to see it as more. More of this, more of us, more taking and giving, of sharing everything life has to offer.
Fuck, what the hell is wrong with me? Where are all these feelings coming from? Maybe I am drunk.
I’ve never been a guy who thought about being tied down, and now I can’t even imagine giving her up. It’s like this piece of paper has taken who I am and flipped him upside down.
The crazy thing is, I fucking like it.
“I thought you said you’d keep it low key?”
“I am. This is low key. You don’t see anyone else here, do you? But, if someone was to ask, like an immigration official, we can at least make it look real. Holding hands, kissing, making love. . .”
Those four letters come out of my mouth and we both stiffen. There’s a sense of realism to the word, and fuck me, it feels right.
Sweeping her hand up around my neck, she starts to play with my hair. “What if we do play house like you’re asking, and one of us actually develops feelings? Does that worry you?”