This is happening.

  I’m getting married.

  Holy shit.

  “I need to know one thing.” Nate leans closer, so only I can hear. “Are you keeping McQueen?”

  A wave of nausea sweeps over me. I take a deep breath as he slides his hand down my arm, clutching my elbow as he pulls me closer. He wants to know if he won the bet, if I’m in love with him. Should I follow my heart and take the plunge? Standing in front of a minister, dressed in the wedding gown I designed with my friends and family in attendance, I know the answer. Nate promised my dream wedding, and he delivered. I thought real love was like something from a fairy tale, only to discover the person I was looking for all along was right in front of me.

  “Please don’t hurt me,” I whisper.

  “Never,” he breathes.

  “Harley King,” I say, clearing my throat. “It has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”

  Nate’s face illuminates from his smile, and before I can stop him, he grabs the back of my head, fisting my curls as he kisses me.

  “You’re supposed to wait until after you say ‘I do,’ jackass,” Reid says from behind Nate.

  Some of the people in the crowd clap and cheer. Nate peels his lips from mine, giving Reid his middle finger behind his back.

  We face each other, hands joined and smiles plastered on our faces, vowing to love each other until death do us part. The service is quick. Our vows are scripted. And before I know it, we’re repeating after the minister and sliding wedding bands onto each other’s fingers.

  “I now pronounce you husband and wife,” the minister says with a thick Caribbean accent. “You may kiss the bride.”

  Hopped up on adrenaline, my body goes into overdrive. My pulse pounds so loud I can hear it in my ears. Nate cups the sides of my face with his big hands. We stare at each other, exchanging a look that doesn’t require words.

  And then he kisses me.

  I get lost in the moment with Nate, ignoring the crowd watching us, consumed by passion as I grip his jacket in my hands, needing his closeness. Not until someone brings their fingers to their mouth and whistles do I realize we took the kiss a little too far. I can hardly breathe when our lips separate.

  The wedding is fake, but the kiss…

  Our love. Our story.

  It is so damn real.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Harley

  When I was a little girl, I imagined myself in this exact gown with my best friend at my side. At the time, I didn’t know Nate would be my husband. I just knew I wanted him there. My heart swells with love and happiness every time I glance over at Nate, my husband.

  Directly after the ceremony, we had a two-hour cocktail reception for our guests while we took pictures with our bridal party. Jonathan McQueen, of course, looked like the doting, loving father in our family portraits. He’s about as real as the characters from his video games. The rest of our friends and family were on their best behavior.

  Nate hooks his arm around my back, digging his fingers into my hip as he steers me through the crowd. For the past twenty minutes, we thanked each of our guests for making the trip. I even got a weird, wet kiss from Nate’s aunt Helen. She welcomed me into the family, claimed she always knew we would marry. Which was weird because today was only the third time I have met her. She’s the eccentric aunt that never gets invited unless it’s a formal family function like a wedding or funeral.

  “On your five o’clock,” Nate whispers into my ear.

  I glance in the direction and find Carl and Sonja Voss making a beeline for us with flutes of champagne in hand.

  “Carl,” Nate says as we meet them halfway. “Sonja.”

  The Vosses beam with delight, offer us champagne, and then Carl is the first to extend his hand to Nate.

  “Congratulations to both of you,” Carl says with a genuine smile. “May you have many happy years together.”

  We clink glasses and drink.

  “Thanks for coming,” I say.

  We have nothing in common with them, apart from their interest in Queen Takes King.

  Carl smiles. “I’m a sucker for a good wedding.”

  Sonja is glowing at his side, squeezing her fingers around his bicep. “Me too,” she coos. “Our wedding was the happiest day of my life.” Sonya presses her red lips together and appraises us. “You both look stunning. Such a lovely couple.”

  I force another smile. “You’re too kind.”

  All of the niceties and fakeness of this day are driving me nuts. I want to rip this dress off, put my tired feet in a pair of sandals, and get drunk on the beach with Nate while we play strip poker, minus the poker.

  We exchange a few more pleasantries before Carl pats Nate on the back.

  “We’ll talk more when you get back.”

  Nate nods, thanking him one last time.

  After they walk away, Nate leads me away from the crowd. “I think they bought it.”

  My heart sinks. For me, this is very real. I love Nate. I’m in love with him.

  “Seems that way,” I choke out after a long pause. “But who knows. He could be testing us to see if we screw up.”

  “And I know how much you hate to fail tests.”

  “Speak for yourself, Mr. Valedictorian.”

  “What can I say?” He lifts a shoulder. “I have it all—money, looks, and brains.”

  “And an ego the size of your hard drive.”

  “Speaking of things that are hard,” he says with a wicked look in his eyes.

  “Which reminds me,” I shoot back. “Your present is waiting for you.”

  He wiggles his eyebrows.

  I laugh. “Don’t get too excited, hubs.”

  “We’ll see who’s excited,” he challenges and smacks a kiss on my cheek. “C’mon, we have to say hello to a few more guests. Then, we can pound champagne and fuck our brains out.”

  “Ooh, that’s romantic.”

  Nate laughs.

  “Also, not going to happen,” I add for good measure.

  “I love it when you tease me, wifey.”

  After we eat dinner, we cut the cake and take bites of all six layers. Nate tried to smash the red velvet in my face, but I dodged him with skill. Our guests had a good laugh from our theatrics.

  With all of the routine stuff out of the way, we get on the dance floor. Callie and Lola are sandwiching Stefan between them. Reid watches Jules dance, lurking with a glass of scotch in hand like a legit stalker. They need to get it on already. When they’re in the same room together, you can feel the sparks. Amelia is busy sampling pastries with Dylan. And Willow is talking to Alec, clinging to his tattooed arm like she needs him to hold her up.

  Surprisingly, everyone is getting along, which is a welcome relief. Jules hasn’t stabbed Reid yet. Nate and I haven’t been exposed as frauds. Callie hasn’t offended anyone or caused a scene. Lola isn’t ass-out drunk. And my dad is on his best behavior. That’s a win in my book.

  “Dance with me, wife,” Nate says with the most adorable smile.

  He moves his hands to my hips, and his fingers tap against my sides. His light touch feels good over the thin fabric. I love the way he handles me, how he makes me feel.

  We dance to several songs, Nate’s muscular body molded to mine. As the tempo picks up, he spins me around. I throw my arms in the air, grinding my backside against him. But after the song ends, I gasp, surprised when I feel his erection poking into me. Is he really hard? We’re in the middle of the dance floor, of all places.

  I lean my head back on his shoulder and look into his eyes. “Please tell me that’s not what I think it is digging into my ass.”

  “Okay,” he says with laughter in his voice. “Then, I won’t tell you.”

  “Nate,” I warn.

  “What? I can’t help how and when my body responds to you. In my defense, I’ve been wanting to fuck you since I was in high school. And apparently, my body is reverting back to the old days. It’s like I’m a teenager again when I’m around you. I can control myself with other women, but not you, Queen. You drive me crazy.”

  He nuzzles his face against my neck and peppers soft kisses along my skin. Surrounded by people, who sneak glances in our direction, I’m sure someone will notice his erection. So, I let Nate wrap his arms around me. We stay that way, slowly moving our hips to the beat until the situation is under control.

  After a while, I slip from Nate’s grasp and turn around to face him. His eyes are intense, piercing through mine. Both of us are heavily buzzed, maybe even a little drunk. And now, I’m so damn horny I can’t think straight. Drunk and horny around Nate is a bad combination.

  Nate pulls me into his chest, and his soft lips graze mine. With Carl Voss around here somewhere, I have to keep up the charade. And if I’m being honest with myself, I don’t have to pretend anymore. I grant Nate full access as he sucks my bottom lip into his mouth. He gives it a good tug before he invades my mouth, and our tongues tangle together.

  Toned to perfection, every ridge of his hard body is pressed against mine. As he cups the side of my face with his hand, he runs his thumb along my jaw. A shiver rolls down my spine. He makes it impossible for me to fight him.

  Nate knows I want him.

  Even I can’t deny it.

  * * *

  Hours later, Nate leads me upstairs to our honeymoon suite. We’re both pretty drunk, holding each other up as we lean into each other. He jams the keycard into the slot on the door, and the light flashes red. One eye open, he tries it a few more times with no luck.

  “Fuck,” he slurs, pressing his hand to the wall to gain his balance. “We’re locked out.”

  I take the card from his hand, and I must be less loaded than Nate because the light turns green this time. Nate pushes the door open, and we stumble inside, holding onto each other. Inside the suite, I kick off my shoes and groan when my painfully sore feet touch the cold tile. Nate staggers, and with his weight pressed into me, we fall backward. Thankfully, we tumble onto one of the couches in the living room, and my head hits a soft cushion.

  “That was close.” Nate smells of bourbon, manly sweat, and a touch of his spicy aftershave. “I drank more than I thought.”

  “You’re the one who said you wanted to get drunk and fuck all night.”

  He laughs and then his lips crash into mine. He slides his hand behind my head as his tongue sensually slips into my mouth, teasing me with tentative kisses. I melt into him, rocking my hips to meet his, matching each of his thrusts. We’re so smashed we barely have enough energy to do much else than dry hump between sloppy kisses.

  I peel my lips from his, out of breath, scratching at the fabric itching my skin. “Help me out of this dress.”

  He wiggles his eyebrows, and then helps me up from the couch. A bottle of chilled champagne and two glasses is set up on the dining room table. There’s even a bowl of chocolate-covered strawberries, expensive dark chocolate, and a basket of my favorite pastries. Nate had it all planned out. Too bad we let our friends hand us one drink after another until we were stumbling into the elevator.

  Our suite is almost as big as Nate’s apartment and boasts magnificent views of the ocean. When Nate catches me looking through the French doors, he opens them, leading me by the hand onto the balcony. The smell of salty sea air assaults my nostrils as we step outside. Nate hugs me from behind, and we stand there in silence. It’s dark outside, the moon casting its soft glow on the ocean as waves crash against the beach.

  Nate rests his chin on my shoulder, his arms tight around my stomach. “Thank you, Harley.”

  “For what?”

  “Marrying me. Taking my last name. Making me the luckiest bastard in the world. I don’t deserve you.”

  My chest cracks open from his confession. I should say something, I guess, but what? Even though my feelings for him have changed over time, I still feel like this won’t last. Like none of this is real. How can a relationship that is built like a house of cards have a real future? Eventually, one card slips from the deck, and they all come crashing down.

  After a few minutes, Nate lifts me into his arms and somehow manages to make it to the bedroom without falling over. He lowers me to the floor, his fingers tugging at my dress as he tries to help me out of it.

  “Try the zipper,” I suggest.

  Nate groans and then a few seconds later, my gown falls to the carpet around my ankles. I drape it over the back of an armchair, standing in front of my husband in the skimpy lingerie Jules bought me. The thong rides up my ass, which was such a pain all night. I kept wanting to run into the bathroom to rip the damn thing off. My bra is see-through lace and matches the panties Nate is drooling over.

  “They look even better on you.” Nate licks his lips and slides his hand to my hip, pulling me into his hard chest. “I can’t wait to take them off.”

  “I want to remember our first time,” I confess.

  Nate nods in agreement and then drops to the floor in front of me. “Let me make you feel good,” he whispers against the fabric, sending a ripple of pleasure throughout my body. “I want to fuck you with my tongue and my fingers.”

  “Nate,” I cry out when he peels back the fabric and his tongue slips between my folds.

  He licks up and down, in and out, his tongue bringing me so close to convulsing. Nate knows how to hit every spot at once, playing with my ass as he sucks on my clit. He buries his face between my legs, kissing my pussy like he’s making love to me. When he pinches my clit and shoves his tongue between my folds, I practically strangle him with my thighs.

  His fingers dig into my ass cheeks as he lifts me up, devouring every inch of me, desperate to lick all of my juices from my pussy. I lose my footing, and luckily, Nate is alert enough that he lowers me to the mattress with his hands cupping my ass. I lean back on my elbows, my legs spread wider. Now that he has more room to work, Nate slides three fingers into me, pounding my pussy with them while he licks and sucks until my head spins.

  My hips buck, and he takes more of me into his mouth, adding another finger in the process. He stretches me open, and it feels like he’s fucking me with his thick cock, moving in and out until my pussy clenches, milking his fingers and mouth as I ride out my orgasm.

  Nate lifts his head, his mouth glistening with my juices. He looks disheveled and sexy, like a possessed man who’s ready to claim me. With a greedy, seductive look in his eyes, he strips off his tuxedo jacket and throws it onto the floor. His shirt is next, and before he can take off his pants, I scoot to the edge of the bed. I flip open the button and unzip his pants, and seconds later, his cock springs into my hand.

  “C’mere,” he says, threading his fingers through my hair. “If I can’t fuck your tight pussy, then I want your mouth.”

  The tip of his cock looks swollen and oozes a little bit of precum. I stick my tongue out to capture his saltiness on my tongue, and Nate grunts my name. Stroking his shaft, I slide his cock into my mouth, taking as much of him as I can at once. The pictures Willow showed me online didn’t even do Nate justice. I never told him about the outline of his monster cock in some of the pictures people posted of him online. In fact, it completely skipped my mind until I saw it for the first time. And then, I was too busy thinking about how I will fit all of him into my mouth to tell him.

  He tilts his head back and hisses as I suck and stroke him. “Fuck, wifey,” he groans. “Your mouth feels so damn good.”

  With my other hand, I cup his balls, giving them a nice massage that earns me more grunts and satisfied groans.

  “Damn, woman, keep doing that,” he chokes out.

  Nate reaches between us and grabs my breast over my bra. The lace rubs against my swollen nipple, creating some friction that sends a shock straight to my pussy. Pinching my nipple between his fingers, he tugs and scrapes it with his nails. It hurts but feels so damn good that I can already feel another orgasm brewing inside me. How does he do this? Nate is the only man who has ever made me come by playing with my nipples.

  “I love your tits,” he mutters. “I want to come on them so fucking bad.”

  I nod in answer, still sucking him off and stroking his cock. So I don’t ruin my new bra, I reach behind me to unclip it, and Nate slides it off the rest of the way.

  “I’m so close, Queen. Fuck, baby. I’m almost there.”

  Less than a minute later, Nate removes his cock from my mouth, and in one swift motion, he has me on my back. Leaning over me, he strokes his shaft and comes all over my chest.

  A wicked grin tugs at his mouth. “My God, baby. For a good girl, you sure know how to suck a cock.”

  “Maybe I just like sucking yours,” I say with a wink.

  Nate takes one hard look at me and then he rushes into the bathroom to grab a wet towel. I lean back on my elbows as he cleans up my chest, and after he’s finished, we crawl into bed together. He gives me space to get comfortable on my side, with my back facing him, and then he slides his arm over my stomach.

  “’Night, Mrs. King,” he whispers against the shell of my ear, sending a shiver down my arms.

  I cover his hand with mine and hold it over my stomach. “’Night, husband.”

  Within seconds of my head hitting the pillow, my eyes slam shut and sleep takes over, and I dream of the only man I have ever loved.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Nate

  I wake up to my head pounding like a jackhammer. Sun streams in through the curtains, casting its soft glow on Harley’s cheek. She looks so peaceful in sleep and so damn gorgeous. I brush her hair off her forehead and smile. I’m a married man. And I get to call this smart and talented woman my wife.

  None of this feels real. It’s like we’re contestants on a dating show, waiting for someone to pull back the curtain and reveal our secrets to the world. I was terrified of messing up around Voss last night, which led to us having one too many glasses of champagne.