Submitting in Vegas (Vegas Morellis 3)

“I love you, too. So much.”

“Good.” He kisses the crown of my head, keeping his arm around me but scooting a little closer to me. “Now you can have dessert.”

I crack a smile and look over at him, holding out my hand. “May I have my panties first?”

“Nope. I’ll be keeping those.”

I shake my head. “Panty thief.”

“I like my favorite toy uncovered. I might want to fuck you again on the way home. Gotta be prepared.”

“You’re such a rog—” I freeze when I lift the dome to eat my cheesecake, and instead of dessert, there is a red ring box with Cartier inscribed on the lid.

“Laurel also told me that she caught you looking at wedding dresses with a wistful look on your face when she went to try on hers, and I realized… I owe you a wedding.”

My wide-eyed gaze snaps to his handsome face. “We’re already married.”

Nodding his head, he twists the golden band on his finger. “We are. But we can do better than a quickie elopement with haunted rings from a bad marriage. You have to play bridesmaid this weekend; it’s only fair Laurel gets a chance to return the favor. You married a boss, after all. That should come with a pretty white dress.”

I grab the red box off the plate and open it up to reveal a gorgeous diamond ring. I draw it out, lean into his arm, and hold it up in the light. “Look at that sparkle, Mr. Morelli.”

“I did good, didn’t I?”

I laugh and rest my head on his shoulder. “You sure did.”

Epilogue

Rafe

The club is all decked out in black and gold tonight, from draped fabric, lighting, and expensive centerpieces, to the bridal party. The female half of the bridal party are currently gathered around my stunning wife, all of them dancing and singing along to Mambo Italiano. Even the kids in attendance are getting in on it. Laurel is dancing with Skylar, spinning her in her puffy little flower girl dress. Mateo’s eldest daughter

is dancing with our ring bearer, Nicholas, balanced on her hip. Every time she dips him, he laughs so hard he would fall over if she weren’t holding onto him. Carly and Mia are bumping hips with my sexy bride, and life? Life’s pretty damn good.

Bringing a flute of champagne to my lips, I smile faintly as Virginia looks my way and waves me over.

“Come on, come dance with us,” she calls.

I shake my head. “You keep shaking your ass, sweetheart, I’ll keep watching.”

Turning around to show me her pretty little ass, tightly fitted with white lace, she runs her hand slowly over that perfect curve. “This ass?”

I shake my head at her. “Keep it up. I’ll haul you out of here caveman-style and get started on our honeymoon early.”

She grins and wiggles her ass at me, but then she goes back to dancing with the girls before I can make good on my threat.

The male half of the bridal party (and Adrian) are not shaking their asses, they’re filling the chairs around me. I invited Mateo, Sin, and Vince to stand up with me. Vince was certainly surprised to be included. It only seemed fair, though. I was technically his best man, since only Laurel and I witnessed their elopement. Plus, Virginia made Carly a bridesmaid, and my possessive little cousin wouldn’t have liked watching his wife walk down the aisle on the arm of another man. Probably more for that reason than any other, he agreed to it, and now he’s stuck at the bridal table with his least favorite people. Of course, with our view of the dance floor right now, there are much worse places to be.

As all good things must, Mambo Italiano eventually ends, and a slow song starts playing. People shuffle off the dance floor, and some of our ladies come to take us. Laurel and Skylar come over to grab Sin first, dragging him out on the floor for a family dance with both his girls. Carly is naturally right behind her sister, saving Vince from our company and hauling him out on the dance floor.

Virginia comes at me so I prepare to get up, but instead of dragging me out on the floor, she loops an arm around my neck and takes a seat on my lap, stealing my champagne flute.

“I’m thirsty,” she announces, before taking a sip.

“Not too much,” I remind her, settling my hand on her hip. “It’s going to be a long flight to Venice; it would be nice if you spent the trip liking me.”

“Does alcohol make her dislike you?” Adrian questions.

“Makes her feisty,” I answer.