“Fuck me, Neanderthal,” she orders.
“Stop talking. You’re ruining it for me. I’m trying to pretend you’re someone else.”
She giggles as she agrees, “Me too. I’m thinking of Chris Hemsworth.”
“That wimp? Thor has nothing on me,” I declare as I shove three of my thick fingers from my right hand inside her.
She screams out, “Yes. Harder. Deeper.”
I thrust them in and out of her at an animalistic pace while my mouth continues to devour her breasts. Her fingernails scrape across my back in a way that I know I’ll be marked.
I go to grab her throat with my left hand, but for the firsttime, I notice my hand is bandaged. What the hell did I do to myself? Am I injured?
My thoughts are interrupted by her thrashing and vocally begging to be fucked.
Before I know it, the condom is on, and I thrust inside her like I want to kill her. Crazy lady loves it and pleads for it faster and harder.
At some point, I can hear screams coming from Vance’s bedroom in our suite. They’re rivaling Kennedy’s, and she doesn’t like being outdone. It becomes a contest between the women.
All I know is we go at it like animals. She claws every inch of my back and ass along the way, only serving to spur me on.
I wakein the morning feeling somewhere between death and a great night because my head is pounding but my dick is wonderfully sore. I get flashes of the evening, mostly involving fucking. Who did I fuck? I remember it being hot as hell and lasting for hours, but I can’t see the face.
I quickly turn, but no one is on the other side of the king-sized bed. Looking around, I notice several condom wrappers strewn about the room. At least I practiced safe sex. Crisis averted.
When I reach over to the other side of the bed, it’s still warm. I wonder if the woman is in the bathroom. Looking that way, I realize she’s not. I suppose she left.
Oh well. It’s easier this way and certainly better than the alternative. I hate it when they’re all clingy in the morning.
Reaching for the pillow, I smell it and shoot straight up. Oh fuck, I know that scent. Suddenly, things come into focus. It’s like someone has adjusted the camera lens in my brain. Ohgod, I had sex with Kennedy. I must have been really drunk to go there.
As I begin to move my body, my back experiences shooting, burning pain. What the hell?
Getting out of bed, I stand in front of the mirror and turn so I can see my back. Scratch marks are everywhere. That crazy bitch marked me, though a small smirk finds my face when I remember leaving marks of my own all over her tits. There will be no prancing around in a tiny bikini for her today.
I go to run the fingers of my left hand over my battle wounds when I realize my fingers are bandaged. I have a vague recollection of seeing the bandage while we were having sex, but no memory of it being put on or any kind of injury.
I slowly unravel the white gauze, noticing one of my fingers is swollen and raw. It feels like a cheese grater has been rubbing against it. Did I burn myself?
As the finger is fully revealed, my eyes nearly bug out of my head. My ring finger has the word Kennedy written around it. Please, God, let this be the product of a Sharpie joke from one of the guys.
I run to the bathroom and begin to scrub my finger with soap and water. It hurts like a motherfucker. Worst of all, it’s not coming off. This is a damn tattoo. A real one. My heart feels like it’s pounding out of my chest. Why in the world would I get her name tattooed on my finger like it’s a ring?
A ring. More memories flood my mind. No, no, no. It can’t be.
I run back into the bedroom and locate my pants from last night on the floor. Emptying the pockets, I retrieve a folded piece of paper.
I quickly unfold it and let out an audible gasp as I begin reading.
Oh. My. God. I married KennedyfuckingJeffries last night.
ONE
TEN MONTHS AGO
KENNEDY
The shrilling sound of my ringtone wakes me from a peaceful slumber in the luxurious comfort of my silky, high-thread-count sheets. I try to reach for my phone, but there’s a meaty arm holding me in place. Did I let this guy sleep over? I never do that. Hmm, I must have passed out after we had sex, and he decided to stick around.
