It Started with a Bang by Piper James

Chapter Twenty

Ryder

Iwoke up the next morning still kicking my own ass.

I knew I’d done the right thing, sending Belle to bed—without me. She’d had a lot to drink and could barely hold herself upright. No way was I going to take advantage of her drunken state and sleep with her.

But, God, I’d wanted it. That kiss in the elevator had only thrown kerosene on the flames that had been building inside me since the moment she opened her door wearing that sexy as fuck sundress. Her long, tan legs had drawn my eyes over and over throughout the night. I wanted to bite her calves before running my tongue all the way up under the hem of her dress…and further.

The casino kept the air conditioning on high, pumping out the cigarette and cigar smoke while keeping its patrons awake with the cold air. As soon as we’d entered the place, Belle’s nipples had pebbled, telling me she wasn’t wearing a bra. My dick had hardened at the sight of them, and it was all I could do to keep my eyes averted and not get caught ogling her breasts.

Then, we’d started to have actual fun. Belle was bright-eyed and talkative all night, charming me with her witty banter and innocent enthusiasm for the colorful Las Vegas strip. And the fact that she touched me every chance she got told me she was enjoying my company just as much as I enjoyed hers.

When she wrapped herself around me in the elevator, I’d lost all sense of reason. I’d pushed her into the wall and grabbed fistfuls of her ass like I’d wanted to do all night. And God, she felt so good. I’d been about to run my hands underneath that dress to touch her more properly when the elevator stopped. The ding still echoed in my ears, signaling the end of our make out session and my plans to escalate the situation.

Belle was drunk. I wasn’t. Putting a little space between us had brought my conscience roaring to the forefront, and I unfortunately came to my senses before she asked me to come into her room with her.

Because, fuck, I wanted to. So bad. But no, I had to do the right thing, and my dick was still protesting this morning. That quick hand job I gave myself in the bathroom last night did nothing to appease him.

And somehow, knowing Belle would become my wife in a few hours only made it worse. Because tonight, we’d be sharing a room. And from the peek inside I’d gotten last night, I also knew we’d be sharing a bed.

How was I going to survive lying next to her all night long and not touching her? I had a feeling she wasn’t going to get drunk and make the offer again, so now I was stuck somewhere between craving her and knowing I couldn’t have her. Fuck, I was pretty sure she was going to wake up embarrassed this morning, making things even more awkward than they already were.

“Maybe I should try to talk to her about it,” I whispered to myself as I hopped into the shower.

Of course, bringing up something she likely wanted to forget would make things even worse. Was it fucked up that I was even more nervous about her reaction to my decision last night than I was about getting married today? Surprisingly, I wasn’t worried about that, at all. Maybe because I knew it wasn’t real. That it was temporary.

I was actually looking forward to the ceremony. Seeing Belle for the first time in her dress, walking down the aisle to where I waited next to Vegas’s premiere Elvis impersonator, it was all a lark, something wacky and fun to commemorate the beginning of our one-year deal.

No, I wasn’t nervous about that at all. But wondering if Belle regretted her offer last night was tearing my insides to shreds. And not knowing if I’d ever get another chance was only making it worse.

When I got out of the shower, I had a text message from Belle. It said she was headed down to the salon to get her hair done, and she’d see me at the chapel. She’d ended the text with a little bride emoji, and I sat down on the edge of my bed, still wet and naked, to stare at it.

If she was sending emojis, did that mean she wasn’t upset? Surely, it did. Right? Her text, if she bothered at all, would be short and to the point if she were pissed.

Maybe everything was okay. Maybe she understood that my heart was in the right place. That I wasn’t rejecting her. I was only trying to do the right thing.

Or maybe she didn’t remember it, at all.

Huffing a sigh, I dropped my phone to the bed and climbed to my feet. It was time to get ready, and sitting there worrying about what was going through Belle’s head was doing me no good.

I pulled my white dress shirt and black slacks from where I’d hung them in my closet. Belle had said no to a tuxedo, and that she wanted to keep the ceremony casual and comfortable. After getting dressed, I styled my hair with a dab of gel and spritzed on some cologne.

I stared at my reflection, wondering what in the hell I was doing. Moving in with a woman I barely knew, marrying her, agreeing to let her pay me to do so…it all seemed so surreal. Like something I’d seen in a movie. How had this even happened?

And why was I so excited about it?

“Fuck, I must be crazy,” I muttered, tucking my wallet and phone into my pocket before heading to the door.

It was time to go. In a little over an hour, I’d be a married man.

I really was crazy.

* * *

“Uh,well now. It’s almost time,” Elvis murmured, his upper lip curled on one side as he spoke. “Are you ready?”

I couldn’t stop my chuckle as he gyrated his hips, making the light bounce off the hundreds of rhinestones attached to his bright blue jumpsuit. I’d been chatting with him for several minutes, and his assistant had hurried in to tell him the bride had arrived just a few moments ago.

“I’m ready, King,” I said, nodding my head.

Elvis pressed a button on the side of his podium, and the soft musical strains of “Can’t Help Falling in Love” filled the air around me. As the doors at the end of the chapel opened, he started to sing about fools rushing in.

I felt a moment of surprise as his voice swelled. He sounded exactly like the original.

But all thoughts of his impersonation flew from my mind as Belle stepped into view. All I could hear was my pulse pounding in my ears as she floated forward. She looked like an angel sent straight from heaven in a simple white, strapless dress that fell in straight lines down to her ankles. Her blonde hair was pulled to the side, falling in fat curls over one shoulder. A white flower rested over her ear, matching the simple bouquet she held in her hands.

I fought valiantly to swallow the lump that formed in my throat as she grew near, but the damn thing wouldn’t budge. My eyes burned, and I blinked against the pain. What the fuck was happening? I never cried, yet here I was, getting ready to lie to The King and pledge my life to this woman, and I was fighting tears.

Then Belle stopped beside me and grinned, giving me a saucy wink. My entire body settled at her not-so-subtle reminder that this thing was nothing more than a hoax. A fun game to outwit her father.

It wasn’t real. We were playacting, and I needed to stop getting caught up in the moment like it was.

She slipped her hand into mine, and the music trailed off. Elvis began to speak, but I listened with only half an ear. My attention was fully on the gorgeous woman beside me, her fingers squeezing mine as we made our vows to honor, cherish, and love each other for the rest of our days.