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“Well, I can’t do that. Not possible. I’ve never shut up a day in my life.”
“Trust me. I know, Stephanie.” The way he says my name—it should be illegal.
“I wouldn’t fuck you if you were the last man on earth. I’d wait for the aliens to arrive and fuck one of them instead.”
“Angry. Hurt. Pissed off. Inferior. Never good enough.”
“You are good enough. You’re fucking fantastic at your job.”
“Because next time you lock yourself in a room with me and talk like that—” He steps closer, breath hot against my ear. “I’ll bend you over my knee and cut that attitude out of you. I’ll make you bleed for it.”
“You wouldn’t fucking dare.”
“You. Have. No. Idea. Who. I. Am. Love. Do not push me any further. I’ll allow this outburst, once. But this is your one and only pass.”
“No. A drinking game. We’re in Vegas, after all, Stephanie.”
Bad idea...
“I’m not missing out on monster dick if the opportunity arises.” He shoves his hands into his pockets. “You already are.”
“Stephanie, I don’t have the energy to fight every guy in here if you strip and lie on that table,” I tell her.
without breaking eye contact, places the shot glass between her breasts. I swear to fuckin’ god, I’m salivating looking.
I lean forward, reveling in the fact her breath hitches the second my tongue connects with her shoulder. I lick slowly before pulling away and shaking some salt. As I sit back, my cock twitches. Picking up the lime slice, I place it in front of her mouth. Her pillowy lips open, and she bites down on the skin. “Atta girl,” I wink.
“Dance with me,” she says. My brows shoot up. “Now? I don’t dance.” “Why not? Come on, Dr. Quinn. Show me you’ve got rhythm.”
Fuck. Turns out I’ll do whatever this woman asks without a second thought. Is she… making me weak? Or is it all the alcohol? “Please, Finn.” Fuck. I can’t say no to those eyes.
“I hate you,” she whispers.
“I know,” I murmur. “But right now, you’re wasted enough to forget why.”
“Uh, no. I’m still in my boxers. You got your red lace panties on?” he says with a mocking tone.
“Stephanie,” he cuts in, smirking. “You’d know, drunk or not, if I’d fucked you. You’d be covered in cuts and bruises. You wouldn’t be able to walk. And you sure as hell wouldn’t be questioning it. Because you’d feel it. I’d still be dripping down your thighs. So no, we did not have sex.”
“Give me your left hand.”
There, glinting under the Vegas sunlight, is a massive diamond on a silver band.
He pulls his hand out from under the covers. A platinum band sits proudly on his tatted finger.
“Finn. You’re fucking with me. You just... put these on for a joke, right?”
“No, I really didn’t.” He pauses. “Mrs. Quinn.”
“Finn! What have we done?!” “Stephanie, calm down. It’s fine.” “Fine?! Fine?! They’re legally binding marriages here, you psycho!”
I yank at the ring, but the second I do, a growl erupts from him. “Dr. Stephanie Quinn.”
“That ring stays on your finger.” “Are you still drunk?” I snap.
“No. You lost the challenge. My reward... is you.”
“You coming back in to sleep this hangover off or what?” My jaw drops.
“Who are you, and what have you done with Finn?” “I’m a married man now, Stephanie. And your husband needs a nap.”
Stephanie Quinn’ has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”
“Stop being a dick, Finn.” “Stop being a brat, Stephanie.”
“Where are you going, wifey?” he calls out.
“I’m going to kill you.” He beams. “Not before our honeymoon, love.”
I’m disappointed she doesn’t remember our first kiss. I can still feel how soft her lips were against mine. I was wasted, yeah. But I’m never wasted enough to completely lose control. Especially not around her.
Can I really make this woman hate me? Is that even what I want? I’m not sure anymore. Because when she kissed me—drunk or not— My entire world fucking stopped.
Stephanie Quinn is mine.
It’s intoxicating. Possessive. A disaster waiting to happen. Her touch burns through my skin. And she’s the first woman that I haven’t wanted to sever from me. No. With her, I want to sew her into my fucking skin and never let her go. It didn’t feel like being haunted by my past. It felt like I was setting fire to my future. And that is why the ring stays.
You better end it, fast. I won’t be sharing you. You’re mine now.
Your lies will be punished.
And there it is. A new plaque. Bright, gold, and sickening. Dr. Stephanie Quinn My stomach twists. Rage flashes hot and white in my bloodstream. How fucking dare he.
The diamond alone could buy my apartment building. It’s flanked by a band covered in smaller diamonds, gleaming like gilt. There’s purpose behind it.
I know you dared to come to work today without your rings, and I thought to myself, you probably deserve to have something more of a statement to show off our marriage. So, your first gift from your husband. Wear them, or else.
HR knows about our marriage, and it has been signed off on. Love your doting husband,
He’s doing this for me. Not for attention. Not for applause. He’s doing this to get under my skin. Because he knows it’ll work.
“I’m not wearing them. This wedding isn’t real. Do we need to send you to the psych ward? This is insane. Even for you.”
Where I can breathe. Where I’ve cried more tears than anyone knows. Where life and death hang in the balance every goddamn day. The hospital roof. I find my secret spot, hidden in the corner, and find my stash of cigarettes behind the planter.
“But this isn’t the real you. Is it?”
“You’re like me. We don’t break. We don’t show our weakness in front of people.”
But it means everything to me. “That wasn’t a joke. That was humiliation in front of all of my colleagues in a career that means everything to me. You have no fucking idea what I’ve had to do to get here.”
