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“Marrying some rando you just fucked is like a rite of passage in Vegas.”
“Holy shit. I got married…” My eyes lock with theirs. “And you two fucked my wife.”
“That’s your dibs… Her name is—” “Mine.” I grin. “Her name is mine.” TJ laughs, then nods. “It’s also Eleanor.”
“Hey, wifey. Remember me?” I bite my lip, trying not to laugh as I nod and attempt to fix my hair, swiping it out of my face. But he winks and rubs his jaw, tapping a finger to it as he adds, “Good. Now, give daddy a kiss and make it better.”
Damn. I really got drunk and married this dude, then let the starting lineup for the Raiders rail me every which way. I’ve never wanted to be a role model, but god has his favorites, so it would be selfish of me not to accept this privilege.
I mean…not really, but like, do I have a crush on my future ex-husband? Yeah, I think I do, with my whole french-fry-loving heart. Eww. Why is my pussy being problematic? Vegas is for catching cock, not crushes.
That girl I married: No, YOU listen… There’s nothing sweeter than meeting your soulmate and finding out he likes it when his friends fuck you too. Now I know why the lord gave me one heart and three holes.
Dirty things happen in the light of day too…but that means we’d have to break your little ‘is she or isn’t she a brotherfucker’ rule.”
I was going to apologize, but that group text had me in a hard Ross PIV-AUGHT…her bullshit felt like a challenge. And history’s already proven that if she issues one, I’ll accept.
Get ready, Wild Card. I’m about to make you feral.
“Wild Card, no more flirting with the bench. I’m the starting fucking lineup.”
“You can wear whatever the fuck you want. But don’t ever fucking forget this again.” He slides my wedding ring back on my finger and drops my hand.
“I want you upstairs, on the island, legs spread with my tongue fucking that tight pussy. I want you to come until you’re squirting and sliding all over the goddamn marble like the dirty little slut you are. And when you’re done, I want you sitting on my face so we can do it all over again.”
But the minute the elevator doors close, Crew runs his nose up the side of my leg, inhaling the scent of coconut tanning oil and my sweat before he drops the pillow and bites my ass. I can’t help it. I suck in a gasp, gushing wetness between my squeezed-together thighs. And as the ding sounds for our floor, Crew pushes his fingers between my legs, tucking just inside the lining of my bikini bottoms and dragging over my arousal before he brings those fingers to his lips and sucks them loudly. “Fuck yeah. That’s a good fucking girl. Now, let me clean you up.”
Am I a menace? Yes.
“If god was a woman, then men would be able to find a woman’s clit.”
“I get your pussy first and last. You hear me? No exceptions, or I’ll let it fucking starve to death.”
I’m halfway to the grass when I hear TJ yell, “Crew, your girl is here.” Your girl? Yeah, I’m gonna dine out on that one for weeks.
You’ve been a bad bitch since the early 2000s…and you’ve checked off the list. Accomplishments accomplished. It’s time for you to get everything you’ve always wanted. Get your cherry.” “And put him on top of you,”
