“I did. Is it a fake?”Wishful thinking.
“Oh, no… it’s legit. Viper made sure it was.”
Pausing, I remember flirting with him, being attracted to his charming personality, and wearing his vest. I remember the shots and the thrill of being with a bad-boy biker who oozed sexual energy. I knew I wanted to screw him, but after the shots and the flirting, everything else is a blank.
“I never black out; I must have been drunk.” Irritation flares. “Why didn’t you stop me from getting married if you knew I was drunk?”
He laughs. “Sophie, no one can stop you when you have your mind set on something, and I knew you could get a divorce, so who cares? It was a bit of fun.”
“Fun!” The word tastes like poison on my tongue. “Where was Alec?” I didn’t think he would let me go through with it.
“He left hours before your very touching ceremony.”
As I peek at Viper, I say, “God! I married the guy and I don’t even know his real first name. What’s the marriage certificate say? Sophie Crown and Viper?” My stomach rolls again. I’ve worked so hard to get where I am today. My reputation is important to me, and now everyone will find out I married a biker in Vegas. I curse myself.
Harrison laughs. “It’s Brayden Young, andyouare Sophie Young now.”
I slap a hand over my face and inhale deeply through my nose. This is my worst nightmare. Viper… or rather Brayden…whatever his name is… is facing away from me. But from the muscles in his back and the way his bicep is bulging as it covers his face, I can’t deny his yumminess. My eyes focus on the way the sheet half-covers his perfect, round ass. I almost want to wake him up to give myself something to remember him by, but I shake my head. I need to get my shit together.
“Well, I’d better go and organize a lift, then message the lawyer on my way.” I hang up on my annoying brother, who’s laughing again.
Marriage.I want to curl up into a ball and die. I carefully slide over and off the bed.
My eyes scan the room for my thong, but it’s nowhere to be seen. I tiptoe over to my dress, aware of the throb of last night between my legs. I lift the dress up and over my head, pulling it down to where it fits.
I peer around to see my bag by the table near the front door. I glance back at him one last time. Well… I clearly had a blast. I desperately wish I could at least recall the night, but then I recoil.Nope, probably better that I don’t.
When I walk over to the door, I grasp my bag, sling it over my shoulder, gently open the door, and walk outside before quietly closing the door behind me. Light floods the corridor. I dash past, hoping no one I know will see my walk of shame.
After I get out of the elevator, I pull out my phone and call the private limousine company we hired. “It’s Sophie Crown. Can you come and pick me up? I’m at uh…” I peer around at the establishment until I reach reception and read the wording. “I’m at Caesar’s Palace.”
“I’ll be there in ten minutes,” the man replies.
“Thank you.” The ten minutes couldn’t come soon enough.
As my hand falls to my side, I catch a glimpse of something on my wrist, so I lift my arm closer to my eyes to inspect it. “Oh… fuck off…” I say aloud. A woman glares at me as she walks past. The words “Partner in Crime” are tattooed across my wrist. I attempt to rub at it, but it’s tender and there’s smeared ink around it. I’d bet Viper has a similar tattoo on him. I’ve never wanted a tattoo. What the hell happened last night?
I bow my head, worried that the bikers or their women will see me. I spot a lounge chair, so I hurry over and take a seat. My stomach rolls and I hang my head, placing my hand over half of my face to hide. I go to my messages and search for Piper’s name, and when it comes up, I dial her.
“Hello,” she answers.
“I’m coming back home to New York.”
“What happened?”
My mouth opens to speak, but I don’t think I can even say the words. “I screwed up… big time!”
* * *
I have never packedmy bags as hastily as I did when I got back to the resort. On the flight back to New York, I have vivid flashbacks of that night, of his lips ravishing my body and the overwhelming ecstasy that engulfed me. Once I arrive home, the driver carries my suitcase up the elevator and to my apartment. I swipe my key, and the front door unlocks.
“Where would you like the suitcase, ma’am?”
“Inside my bedroom.”
I head to the coffee machine. I set down a cup and press the button. My body desperately needs caffeine.
“Hello,” Piper says behind me. I turn to her.
