“The fuck it will.”
“Phoenix, between your punishing thrusts, the position you had me in and yourProdigiousPhallus, I doubt I’ll be able to walk elegantly in my heels. Everyone will know something happened between us.”
“And that’s a problem how? You’re my wife.”
She shakes her head.
I pull out of her and drop her to her feet.
I cup her face in my hands.
“If you think I’m not going to taste your pussy and give you at least three other orgasms before the stroke of midnight, you’re dead wrong, Mrs. König.”
She considers me, lips pursed, and malice shining bright in her eyes.
I brace myself for the flames that are about to erupt from her mouth.
“Well, when you put it like that?—”
A knock at the door has me jumping out of my skin.
Shit.
Michaela draws in a harsh breath as onehand flies up to cover her breasts, while the other cups her pussy. When her panicked gaze meets mine, I do a hand gesture, coaxing her to find out who’s at the door.
“Who is it?”
“Hey, sis, it’s Wilder.”
“Oh, hey, Wilder. What’s up?”
“AbuelitaNoelia sent me to find you,” he says. “You and my brother better come back downstairs because she’s looking for you all over the place.”
“Is your grandmother okay?”
Wilder chuckles. “That eighty-three-year-old woman is an oak tree. She’s looking for you to have a little chat to bestowwomanly wisdomfor your wedding night. She even enlisted one of the cousins to help with the translation. She says you’re gorgeous, but your Spanishis not very good looking.”
“That’s a funny saying,” Michaela says.
“Abuelitaadapted that saying from Celia Cruz,” Wilder says. ““My English is not very good looking”was the Cuban queen of salsa’s go-to phrase whenever she addressed a non-Spanish speaking audience.”
“I see,” she says.
“In any case, you two better come down,pronto. And for the record, I’m just the messenger, so don’t kill me for putting an end to your husband and wife fun.”
I can picture his shit-eating grin.
I roll my eyes.
Michaela cringes.
Mom’s youngest sister, Aunt Angelina, lives in LA. She’s part of our big day, accompanied by her husband Blaize Bickford-Smith, and my cousins Callum and Ainsley—she’s here with her new husband. Dad chartered a jet to fly the rest of Mom’s family from Argentina for the wedding. My grandma, uncles, aunts, and cousins survived my mother’s and Barron’s death. Even if this is a fake wedding, not having them here would be wrong. Explaining a divorce is much easier.
“How did you know I was up here, Wilder?”
“Bro, I have eyes. Your wife is stunning. Smoking hot, in fact. If you weren’t up here with her, I was going to seriously start questioning your sanity andyour manhood.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. “I apologize for my brother’s lack of tact.”
