THE ELEVATOR DOORS opened onto the top floor of the Wynn, and we spilled out like we’d been shot from a cannon.
A very drunk, very happily married cannon.
Shep’s tie dangled around his neck, his shirt half untucked, and he was laughing so hard as he fumbled for the room key that I was surprised no one stuck their head out to tell us to shut the hell up.
Not that I was much better. I couldn’t even walk in a straight line, shoulder-checking the wall as I followed after him.
“Mr. President’s son,” I drawled. Every part of me felt warm and loose—except my cock. No amount of alcohol could dull the arousal Shep evoked in me. If anything, it made me even hotter. “How does it feel to be a married man?”
He spun around suddenly, completely off balance, and clasped his hands behind my neck, drawing me in closer, whiskey hot on his breath. “I think you mean Mr.—” A frown creased his forehead, an adorably confused expression on his face. “Fuck, what’s my name now?”
Even in a sober state, his name was like five hundred pages long, but with all the drinks we had, it took an extra amount of brainpower to fumble through.
“Shepard Winches— Wait, no. O’Neil. The third.” I grabbed his ass and yanked him toward me, sending us stumbling back into the wall. “Putain. Where does the Rinaldi go?”
He waggled his brows, a very un-Shep-like thing to do. “I think you know where,” he said suggestively.
My mouth fell open, and I crushed his hips against mine, rubbing my cock against his through too many damn layers of clothes. “Now that’s why I married you. Filthy fucker.”
A slow smile curved Shep’s mouth and he leaned in, taking my lower lip between his teeth. “How about this…Shep…Rinaldi.”
Through my liquified haze I didn’t grasp what he was telling me at first, because that seemed to make sense to me, but then I realized that was my last name, not his name—or he wanted it to be his name or?—
“Don’t tease me,” I said, pushing against his chest, but he only gripped me tighter.
“You don’t like it?”
“I think I like ittoomuch. But maybe don’t make a decision when you’ve had an entire bottle of whiskey.”
Even though, holy shit, the fact that he’d even said he might want to take my name in the first place had every part of me vibrating. So much so I needed to get him out of this hallway before a photo of our drunk asses mauling each other became the next front-page article.
I slapped his ass and pushed off the wall, sending him stumbling back and then laughing as he caught himself just in time. He patted down his pants, searching for something, and then reached into his pocket to pull out the key card.
“Found it,” he said, holding it up victoriously?—
—only to immediately drop it.
“Oh fuck me.” He bent down to pick it up, muttering more curses and giving me an eyeful of that sweet ass.
“I will if you can manage to get the door open.Husband.” I had to keep saying it, otherwise I’d never believe we’d actually gone through with it. We’d really gone to a chapel and promised ourselves to each otherfor life. It had happened, there was video proof—but more than that, every second was seared into my memory forever.
Shep was my husband.
My husband who looked precariously close to losing the fight with gravity as he grasped at the card on the floor.
“You’re tipping over there,” I said, not doing much better as I started toward him like I could help him. We’d probably just end up rolling around on the Wynn’s exquisite carpeting and never get back up.
“Got it.” Shep straightened…ish, and made his way to the door. The first pass of the key card didn’t work and he cursed. “I’m never drinking again.”
“You’re adorable when you lie.”
He glared at me just as the door swung open, sending him staggering inside, with me following close on his heels.
“Putain, I should’ve carried you over the threshold,” I said as the door slammed shut behind us. “Isn’t that what you do on your wedding night?”
As the lights slowly warmed in the luxury suite, golden-hued and utterly romantic, Shep turned to face me, looking so damn sexy with his tie undone and dangling from his shoulders.
“I can think of better things we can do,” he said. Heat and desire swirled in his eyes, drawing me in like a magnet.
