Not Husband Material (Billionaire's Contract Duet 1)

“Let’s do something about that,” I growled.

The flight to Vegas was a short and sweet ride on one of my private jets. The whole time, I couldn’t help but enjoy how surprised my bride-to-be was at the casual displays of wealth I showered her with.

We flew out of Aspen, and while we were there, I had her pick out a dress from one of the most glamorous bridal boutiques in the state. Once I dropped my name and my credit card, there were no questions asked. I accepted nothing but the very best for Haley.

It was a shade of white with the faintest silver undertone, and floral designs were embroidered all around the torso, spilling down into vines that trailed down to the hem. Even though we were in a rush, Haley seemed to be enjoying the sight of herself in the mirror with the dress on, and my eyes devoured the sight. Money was no object. Within a matter of hours, we were gone and on my jet.

The whole time I was in the plane, I couldn’t take my eyes off Haley. As I had sparkling water served to us, I watched her cross and uncross her legs, reading her body language as she alternated between peering back at me and looking out the window.

“Nervous?” I asked.

“Let me put it this way: the more I distract myself, the less likely my better sense will kick in and try to slam on the brakes when I realize what I’m doing.”

“I’ll drink to that.” I raised my glass with a cocky smile, and she rolled her eyes, trying to hold back a smile of her own.

She couldn’t hide the blush, though.

I had already arranged an appointment with one of the classier ministers in the city. It wasn’t the most elaborate, because the more quickly and quietly we got this done, the better, but I wasn’t about to take this woman to a dump.

The next few hours were such a rush, though, that it all went by in a blur. One moment we were in a limousine, then I was getting changed into my designer tuxedo, and a few minutes later, the two of us stood facing each other in front of a minister.

I didn’t even pay attention to what he was saying. My eyes were locked onto my bride, and my cock was already swelling in my pants.

She was standing there in her wedding dress looking more immaculate than ever, even though we’d hardly had time to make any of the preparations she really deserved. She was gazing back up at me steadily, and the mixture of emotions on her face was delicious.

She was nervous, first and foremost, and I wondered if she was having second thoughts. The blush in her cheeks betrayed so very much, though. She was an anxious, overworked person with physical needs that just never got met. There was a bit of fantasy to all this that I knew I was touching on, and even as she fidgeted in her dress, I could tell part of her was into it.

As for me, all I could think about was tearing that dress off her and wrapping her bare legs around my hips while I bucked into her.

The tension between us as we glared at each other was electric.

I couldn’t forget that this was only because I was buying out her resort. This was an act of desperation.

But God, it was an act of desperation we were going to enjoy every second of.

I could tell a part of her still resented me, still wanted to throw hot coffee in my face and storm off, but another part of her made her feel warm inside in the same way she made my cock swell hard.

We were both snapped out of the fantasy when we heard the minister prompt us for our lines. After a quick exchange of “I do” from both of us, we were legally man and wife.

And as soon as the words “You may now kiss the bride” reached my ears, I lunged forward and seized one of her legs, hoisting it up and making her yelp and grab onto my shoulder as I leaned forward and kissed my new wife deeply.

She dropped her bouquet as she moaned into the kiss, and I picked her up in both arms to carry her out.

“Right now?” Barely an hour later, Haley gasped as I led her by the hand to the luxury suite I had booked on the penthouse of one of the hotels overlooking the Vegas Strip.

“Right now,” I confirmed with a wolfish grin back at her. My card key opened the door, and I scooped her up again to carry her over the threshold.

“You’re really not wasting any time with this, are you?” She slipped her arms around my shoulders, looking up at me with a flushed face that had been like that from the moment I kissed her at our wedding.

“Would you?” I asked, arching an eyebrow.

The suite was luxurious. Shining black tile floors, modern furniture with similar black and gray color schemes, lights that could be dimmed, and massive windows overlooking everything.

I carried my bride into the bedroom, not even hesitating to get a good look around the place. After a point, the rush had started to excit

e her, I noticed. She was nervous and anxious as ever, but I caught her smiling more than once. She wiped it off her face each time she caught me looking, but that only made her blush more.

Once we were in the bedroom facing the California king-size bed and surrounded by dim, romantic lights, I pulled her shoes off and tossed them aside before setting her down in front of the bed.