"Hey, yeah, Danno... tell me you can help me." I held the phone to my ear while I started the hot water in the shower.
"Kade, I'm not gonna lie, it could be tricky."
"Nah, none of that crap. I'll pay what it takes. Just tell me what you need." My fingers danced under the spray as the water went tepid then slightly warmer.
He sighed and grumbled something about entitlement, but said, "Give me what you have on her. Name, any contact info, the chapel you got married at. It should have a record of the marriage license. "
Mr. Price didn't sound convinced, but then neither had my father. But neither of them had met Lainey. If she was a gold digger like my dad had insinuated so rudely, she wouldn't have left so quickly this morning. My gut told me she really was just a wounded runaway bride down on her luck. I could make this go away quickly if we tackled it head-on.
"I'll send what I have over. Thanks, Danno," I told him. Then I hung up and switched to my email app, adding the video files Mark had sent me. It was the best I could do considering I didn't have any way to contact her. But Dan would work his magic and I would get myself out of this mess.
I attached the files and hit send, but the image of Lainey in the thumbnail just lodged in my mind. The way I’d had her pressed against that elevator wall got me yet again. Her lips were so soft, and the way she gave herself to me so freely without any restraint was intoxicating. Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was just that she was really that desperate, but I’d enjoyed it way too much.
After locking my phone, I stepped into the water and let it sluice over my body while I lathered up. I was worked up, wanting release, but not in the mood to wait for a woman. When I washed my dick it was too tempting to not touch a little, and in just a few seconds I was rock hard and thinking about Lainey on her knees sucking me.
I stood under the hot spray, water pounding my shoulders as my hand closed around my cock. It was already thick and heavy from thinking about her. I stroked myself, letting the image of Lainey take over.
In my mind she dropped to her knees right there on the wet tile, eyes locked on mine. Her lips parted and she took my head into her mouth, tongue swirling around it before she slid down, sucking me deep. I groaned, fist moving faster, matching the rhythm I pictured—her head bobbing, cheeks hollowed, wet sounds filling the steam.
She looked up at me, mascara smudged, lips stretched wide around my girth as saliva trailed from the corners of her mouth. I imagined grabbing her hair, guiding her, pushing deeper until she gagged softly then took it anyway, humming around me.
The pressure built fast. I needed more. I pictured pulling her up, turning her, then lying back so she could straddle my face. In my fantasy she lowered herself onto my mouth, thighs framing my head, her pussy already slick and swollen. I buried my tongue inside her, licking long strokes from entrance to clit, tasting every inch while she rocked against me. Her juices coated my lips and chin. I sucked her clit hard, flicking it with the tip of my tongue until her hips jerked and she moaned my name.
My real hand flew over my length, slick with soap and precum, and I kept the image clear—her grinding down, thighstrembling, fingers digging into my hair as she chased her release on my face. I imagined her coming apart, pussy pulsing against my tongue, flooding my mouth while she cried out.
And that pushed me over. My balls drew up tight. I pumped with my fist one last time, picturing her shuddering above me, and I came hard. Thick spurts hit the shower wall, washed away instantly by the water as my body jerked with each pulse. The release wasn't anything compared to the way she made me feel last night, but it took the edge off.
I leaned against the tile, chest heaving, the fantasy of Lainey still burning behind my eyes even as the real world rushed back in. I had to get this girl out of my head. It was obvious my dad didn't approve, and with Mark's security camera footage I knew what a publicity nightmare this would be if things got out of control.
I rinsed off and let the water pound my face, knowing if I kept going the way I'd been going I really would end up cut off. The problem was, I didn't want to shack up with one of my father's colleague's daughters just because Mom was worried I'd end up alone. I didn't mind being single, though at times it was lonely. I just couldn’t see myself marrying someone I didn't know and with whom I had nothing in common.
If I annulled the marriage, Dad would just fix me up with someone I'd end up making an excuse to get away from. But I had to annul the marriage. It wasn't like Lainey and I were serious about any part of it, and though I didn't think she was a gold digger, I couldn't be positive.
Still, whether it was two days or two weeks from now, I knew the marriage was over. What would be the harm of letting it go a few more days? Long enough for my parents to squirm a little. I did enjoy watching them squirm.
And if it took Daniel Price a while to track Lainey down, all the better. I had to get her out of my head before I saw her again, or I'd wind up feeling sorry for her again. And who knew where that would lead.
8
LAINEY
Everything about being back in Brandon's apartment felt wrong. From the moment I stepped through his door, to when he ushered me to the table to eat, I'd been uncomfortable. The only reason I came here was to make sure things had been permanently severed. I didn't feel the need to drag Kade or the wedding into this. After such a crazy stunt, I knew I was capable of standing up to him, but Brandon was acting weird.
"Is it warm enough? I know the delivery guy took a while," he asked as he chewed. His eyes kept flicking up to watch me push the same meatball around my plate for the past ten minutes.
The ability to tell him off and knowing exactly how to do it were two different things. There was no way I was leaving this place with him still believing we were dating. However, I didn't know how to bring up what I knew about him—and why I'd run off—without losing my cool. Which was also something I didn't want to happen.
I wished Mandy was here, but that was another relationship that had gotten strained by this whole thing. I’d apologized toher, but things were tense now. I knew eventually she’d come around, but she was really upset I hadn’t told her about my doubts.
"It's fine," I mumbled, scowling at the plate of pasta and sauce. He got like this at times, when he knew I was angry with him. He'd dote and hover and make me the center of attention as if groveling somehow would change the circumstances. But I saw right through him. He was feeling guilty for cheating, which was exactly how he should've felt.
"Are you sure?" he asked again, setting his fork down. "Because I can warm it for you." He stood, reaching for my plate. I slapped my hand down on the table next to it, making the glasses and silverware on the table shake.
"Enough, Brandon," I snapped, and my chest tightened until it felt hard to breathe. His eyes went wide as he slowly sank back into his chair and gawked at me. I'd had all week to think about exactly how to handle this. He'd texted me paragraphs all week about how his parents understood me getting cold feet and how it was no big deal. Every bride feels nervous... the whole spiel.
But breaking up with him via a text message wasn't my style. I'd never had to break up with someone before, let alone someone I thought I'd spend the rest of my life with. I just didn't think a Dear John was appropriate given that he'd slept with a stripper. Brandon deserved to see what he'd done to my heart.
"What is it, Lanes?" His throat worked as he swallowed around the words. I looked up at him to see a dab of spaghetti sauce on his chin. Any other day that would've been endearing and I'd have wiped it off for him. Today I glared at it like it was a bleeding wound, wishing he felt the pain I’d felt when I heard his groomsmen say what he'd done.
