Fake Vow (For Now) (Big Men of Blue Mountain 2)

Asher makes me another drink, and then another, and each one seems better than the last. It’s been forever since I was this happy. The world seems bright and shining, and the hours pass in laughter and newfound friendship.

By the time Asher pulls me away from the table and through the darkness to his house, I am well and truly drunk. And against all odds given this afternoon, I’m horny. I know exactly how good this man can give it, and I want every fucking thing that he can give me.

All night long.

We barely make it through the door before his lips are on mine, and we fall back into each other, full of tipsy joy and perfect chemistry.

Holy fuck my head hurts. That’s the first thing that I think when I wake up in the unfamiliar room and unfamiliar bed.

It’s been a long time since I’ve had that much to drink, and really the only thing that I remember from last night is laughter and heat and more orgasms than is fair for one person to have.

I’m buried in a fluffy comforter and there’s a heavy, warm arm draped over my body. Oh my fuck, everything about this hangover sucks. My head is pounding. It’s so bad that I’m honestly surprised that I haven’t thrown up. I’ve had hangovers like this before. After every single one of them I swore that I would never drink again. And every time I don’t listen. This time I hope that I will.

But Asher’s drinks didn’t feel like I was drinking that much, given how tasty they were. And I wasn’t exactly complaining when he swept me back here and fucked my brains out.

I ease out from under Asher’s arm and creep to the bathroom to splash water on my face. The water is warm, and that feels good, so I do it again. But this time I notice in the mirror that there’s a red string tied around my finger. That’s weird.

Must have been some sort of drunk game that we played last night. All I remember is being so fucking happy, that’s the only memory I have. And right now, I desperately need coffee. Maybe the caffeine will take the edge off the hangover. But I should probably just go back to sleep.

There’s the soft sound of movement from the bedroom, and Leo’s rough morning voice. “Good morning.”

My body reacts instantly, skin tightening and shivers running across my skin. Another memory from last night—his voice growling raw, dirty words in my ear while he fucked me. Making me come over and over again.

“Morning.”

It’s not fair how good he looks for just waking up. I could snap a picture and send it to a magazine and they would slap it into an ad without a second thought.

“How’s your head?”

I groan. “Not good. I can’t even believe I’m standing up right now.”

“Then don’t stand up.” He reaches for me, snagging me by the hand and pulls me down into the bed with him again. In one smooth motion he has me on my back and is over me, pinning me to the bed with his body. I can’t say that I mind. His now-familiar weight is delicious and I’m already wet, body recognizing what this means. Even with the headache.

Asher is sexy as fuck, and he makes me feel good. It’s been a while since I’ve been with anyone at all, let alone someone that thoroughly enjoys giving me pleasure.

Slowly, Asher takes my wrists and pins them above my head with a sly smile. “I like this view.”

“You can have as much of it as you want,” I tell him, wishing that my voice wasn’t such a giveaway. I sound like I’ve run a marathon, and it’s really fucking clear that I’m affected by him.

“Just one question,” he says.

“Mm?”

He glances at my hands. “Why did you take your wedding ring off?”

I blink at him, and my body goes cold. “My what?”

Asher weaves his fingers between the ones of my left hand and pulls it in front of me. “Your wedding ring. The string on your finger.”

I stare at him. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

He looks innocent, and the false surprise isn’t remotely convincing. “What am I talking about? You don’t remember? We got married last night. Edward, our guest, is an officiant, and he married us.”

I scramble out from underneath him and off the bed before remembering that I’m completely naked and it doesn’t exactly help the situation. Panic is clawing up my throat, and combined with the pounding in my head, I feel like I can’t breathe. “Why would we do that?”

Asher leans across the bed casually, smirking. “It seemed like a good idea at the time. And you were extremely enthusiastic about the idea of a honeymoon with me. Can’t say I blame you. A week of fucking like last night would be heaven.”