Playing For Love (5 page)

“No one else for you, sweet girl. Say it.”

“No one else,” I breathed mindlessly as my body tightened.  

“Only me. For the rest of your life... I'm gonna own you. Everything you are.” He punctuated his words with a hard thrust, his voice labored and rough with his exertion. 

David's intensity was still a little alarming. And sobering. I didn't know if I could ever be that person, the type who could connect that deeply.

But I wanted to. 

With him.

“David... Fuck me.” I didn't have a good response to his declaration, but fucking always seemed to work for us. It seemed to satisfy our emotional needs. For now, anyway.

“I'm gonna come.” His voice sounded almost pained as he worked his cock in and out of me with desperate strokes. “Come on, come hard for me.” 

A few rough thrusts later, my body quaked violently, obeying him. I cried out as ecstasy rushed through me, heating every inch of my skin. His hand clamped back over my mouth, muffling me.

“Keep rubbing your clit.” Then he let out a helpless groan as his big body shuddered, something deep inside me tightened in response. “Fuck, I'm coming.”

His cock pulsed inside me, twitching against my end, the warmth of his cum filling me.     

“
Oh, fuck,
I wanna knock you up,” he breathed out as he pushed deep. “Stop taking birth control.”

I wanted to tell him no, that I wasn't ready, but his hand was still covering my mouth and I didn't have the energy to get into something that might be an argument.      

Pulling out to the tip, he pushed back in, and pleasure rippled through me with the fullness, forcing a deep moan out of me. 

“Oh, fuck, rub your clit. I gotta another load for you.”

When I complied, a ragged sound left him, making me quiver as he pounded into me for a moment, losing himself.

“Oh, fuck.” His body tensed, pushing all the way in. He jerked inside me, spurting hotly against my womb, triggering another small orgasm in me, making my body quiver under him. He groaned a deep satisfied, “
Fuck
,
yeah
.”

His hand left my mouth and his lips immediately replaced it, sealing over mine in a lush kiss. When he pulled away, he trailed kisses down my neck as he eased out.    

“Again,” I whispered.

David pulled back, looking out the window. “I think we're getting close. We gotta get you cleaned up.”

“Fine,” I sighed, annoyed.

He laughed a deep, throaty sound as he sat down by my feet. My legs spread open, exposing everything to him. I closed my eyes against the creeping embarrassment. Then I felt his fingers pushing into me shallowly. Playing. I opened my eyes to see him watching my pussy intently.

“Fuck, I love feeling my cum inside you.” He groaned, a tortured, erotic sound that had me ready for more.  

He's right, I
am
horny on my period. 

“David, make me come again.”

He glanced out the window once more. “Let's get you cleaned up. We
are
close.”

CHAPTER FOUR

I was adjusting my dress when the limo came to a stop in front of the courthouse.

David was blatantly checking me over as he slipped his T-shirt back on. “You've got serious sex hair. Put it up.”

“Does it look scary?”

“No. It looks sexy as fuck,” he growled.

“Come on.” I tried to suppress my grin as I reached for the door. David's hand closed over mine, stopping me.

“Wait.” David got out first, then blocked me from view as he helped me out. Soon as I was on the sidewalk he checked my dress, making sure I was covered. Grabbing my hand, he pulled me toward the entrance.

As we entered the lobby, a massive water fountain in the center greeted us. David stopped us in front of a directory board before quickly leading me down a hall, into an office.

“We're here to apply for a marriage license,” David said, pulling me closer as we stood in front of the clerk's desk.

“You’re aware we have an eight day waiting period?”

Eight days?

David spoke with her, trying to determine who he needed to speak with in order to make arrangements for the paperwork to be rushed through, to be ready for tonight.

As I watched him, I saw a tension that no one else would ever notice. I wasn’t sure what had caused it, but I had confidence that he could handle whatever it was. He pulled a white phone out of his pocket. As he read the screen, I unnecessarily checked my purse to make sure it
was
my phone he was holding.

Not sure why I bothered, it obviously was.

“David,” I reprimanded as I reached for it.

Instinctively, he pulled his hand away and looked up at me. “It's not important.”

Something about his casual dismissiveness pissed me off.

“
David
...
Give me my phone
.” I kept my voice quiet, not wanting to draw attention to our strange dynamic.

“It's my publicist, sweetheart.” He was still too casual as he tilted the phone my way so I could see it.

See it. Not have it. 

It showed a missed text from
Elaine PR
. I didn't know his publicist's name, but I knew he had one.

He's completely taken over my phone.

I knew I had to give up my privacy, but I was not going to be one of those couples who shared a phone
.

He must have seen something in my expression because he quickly whispered, “I forwarded my calls to your phone, it's just while we're here.” 

Before I could respond, he continued, “I didn't think you'd care.” He looked at me for a long moment, like he was trying to see something. See if I was hiding something.

“You need to fill these out, and we need at least two forms of identification,” the woman at the desk said, interrupting our... whatever it was.

David reached for my purse, not hesitating as he pulled it open, digging through it while it was still on my shoulder. He pulled out my wallet then his, setting them on the counter. He dug back into my purse, producing two passports and my birth certificate.

When did he start putting his stuff in my purse?

I shouldn’t have been surprised by the way he casually took over my phone and my purse, but I was. Admittedly, the purse thing was comforting, it felt like we had been together forever not days. But I was mad and anxious with him confiscating my phone. Looking at current texts and calls was one thing, but if he went through it...

Taking a deep breath, I noticed the woman behind the desk watching me. Apparently, I wasn't playing it off as well as I hoped. Rearranging my face into a relaxed expression, I realized the irony of me being pissed at him, yet filing for a marriage license. I didn't comment as I started filling out my paperwork, letting David takeover anything else that needed to be done. He was going to anyway.

“Ashley?” David asked.

I looked up to see him watching me. “What are you doing?”

“Seeing what your middle name is. And waiting to see when your birthday is,” he said, still looking over my shoulder.

That was a wake-up call. We didn't know each other’s middle names or birthdays. We hardly knew anything about each other. 

“April second,” I answered efficiently.

His eyes met mine, searching, and then his face softened. Concern was written all over his features as he leaned in. 

“Hey, what's wrong?” he breathed, moving behind me, grabbing my hips, pressing his hard angles into my soft curves. His husky voice washed over me. “You mad at me?”

After a moment, when I still hadn't responded, he buried his face in my neck, breathing me in before he continued, “Don't you wanna know when mine is? Or my middle name?” He sounded a little hurt that I hadn't shown the same interest in him.

“Of course I do, but I figured it was a two-way street—I can just go through your stuff whenever I feel like it.” My bitchiness was coming through. “Actually, I'm surprised you didn't read my birth certificate already.”

“I was a little busy last night—taking care of you.”

Something about his tone confused me. Was he saying I had been difficult or was he talking about my sexual needs? I couldn't tell. So I focused on my paperwork. But I did notice his middle name was Joseph and that his birthday was January twentieth.

As I knew he would, he took over everything else, and by the time he was done, the clerk was quite smitten with him.

Once we got back in the limo the tension between us seemed to have faded.

“Had my assistant make all the appointments for today,” he mentioned as the limo pulled away from the curb.

Of course he had an assistant. I felt stupid for never considering it before. No wonder he was able to get everything done. Although, he had no problem getting what he wanted at the courthouse.

“What did he—she schedule?” I didn’t really like that someone had more knowledge than me about our plans. And I really didn’t like these constant reminders that I didn’t know much about him.

“Don’t worry it’s a guy,” he teased. “Aaron—you’ll meet him soon.”

As ridiculous as it was, that made me feel significantly better.

“Do we have options on the location?” I looked away from the passing scenery to David—his strong jaw, high cheeks bones, and sculpted lips softening me.

“We’ve got a private villa with a large terrace in back. Thought we could get married there. However you want it decorated. But if you'd rather get married on the beach, we can do that. We'll do whatever you want.” 

I snuggled into his side and his arm wrapped around me, pulling me closer, his pec twitched under my cheek. I couldn’t begin to understand why that twitch was comforting. The tension between us in the courthouse had dissipated and I was relieved, but I still needed to know what was going on with him.

“So...what did you do? What are you hiding?” I asked softly.

He took a deep breath, exhaling loudly. “You know what the paparazzi at the store said. About the club?” When I nodded, he continued. “Someone took a few pics of us. They went public Saturday. Your name was withheld.” He paused for a moment. “But it's going to be released, along with our wedding announcement.”

I didn't pull away, even though I really wanted to see his face. I fought the building anxiety and took deep breaths.

“Austin... say something.” His muscles went rigid as he waited for my response. The tension rolled off him.

Where do I start?

I kept my voice even as I spoke. “When did you decide this—or make these arrangements or whatever you did?”

“I planned the release of your name on Sunday. After your declaration of wanting to keep us a secret... I didn't want to be your secret—I
don't
want to be your secret.”

“Yeah, I know. You've been very clear about it.” I tried to swallow the growing lump in my throat. “What about the wedding announcement? When did you decide that?”

“Yesterday morning. When I knew I was getting the ring.”

So many things raced through my mind, I couldn't keep up with them all.

“That's what lunch was about? That contract? Getting me to quit my job? Because of some deadline you created?” I was starting to feel manipulated, and that pissed me off.

“No.” I felt him shaking his head, his lips pressed to my hairline. “I'd been planning all that before I scheduled the announcements.”

Ignoring his highhandedness, I stayed on the current topic, “But you scheduled it before I said yes.”

“Yeah. I was gonna get you to say yes. One way or another.” His tone was matter-of-fact. “I didn't
plan
on fucking you into agreeing—not that I'm complaining,” he quickly added.  

I took a deep breath, exhaling harshly. I had a feeling he
had
planned on fucking me into agreeing. 

“When is all this happening? Is that why your publicist is texting you on my phone?” I still wasn't sure why he forwarded his calls, forcing us to share a phone. But at the moment it was the least of my concerns.

His lips and nose pressed against my head, his breath was warming my hair. Eventually he responded.

“She's trying to get it pushed back until tomorrow.  But if she can't get that done, she is trying to get it pushed back until later today.”

My heart jumped along with my anxiety. I thought I would have a day or two to adjust, wrap my head around it, but I didn’t. I swallowed thickly and asked, “You realize what’s going to happen? Pushing me into the public eye like this. And my ex—” I stopped short, realizing I had never told him who my ex was.

“I know.” His voice was rough and resigned. “Your ex is going to take advantage of any publicity he can get... I know who he is. I found a picture of the two of you.”

My stomach sank.

I felt guilty.

Finding it, he probably thought I kept it for some deeper meaning. 

“That's why you punched a hole in my wall,” I whispered.

“Yeah.” He spoke against my hairline, his arm tightening for a moment.

“Let me see your hand.”

He obeyed, holding it out for me, letting me inspect it. It didn't look too damaged, only a few small scratches.

“Does it hurt?”

“It's fine,” he breathed, his voice tender.

I brought his hand up to my lips, pressing a kiss to an unmarred knuckle.

“You know this is going to cause us a lot of unnecessary stress, right?” I asked, softly.

“I'll deal with it. You don't need to do anything. I'll handle everything.” He was so sincere in trying to comfort me, to convince me everything would be okay. “And I already hired my publicist for you, so don't worry.”

I knew this was going to be a nightmare, but his confidence mixed with the way he breathed me in relaxed me, giving me a break from the reality that was coming.

“Social media accounts?” he asked abruptly.

It took me a second to process his question, then I shook my head minutely in response.

“Didn't think so.” His voice shifted then, all business. “Elaine's going to open some, manage them for you.”

“Okay,” I sighed. I was not excited or inclined to share my personal life with strangers.

“Thank you.” 

“For what?”

“Not being pissed at me.  Not pointing out how fucked up I am. How fucking wrong and selfish it was for me to do this to you, without even asking. I just wanted everyone to know—”

“I know,” I breathed. I knew he wasn't sorry; he wanted our relationship acknowledged by me and everyone else. He needed this to feel validated, secure. “I'm not looking forward to it. At
all
. But I
know
with your issues what I'm dealing with... Just tell me next time, okay?”

“Won’t be a next time. Everyone's gonna know we're married in less than twenty-four hours.” He sounded so relieved—too relieved.

“You'll be amazed at how much it won’t matter,” I muttered under my breath, afraid he had convinced himself getting married would fix his abandonment issues. 

It wouldn't.

There was no quick fix. It was and would be an ongoing struggle. Which was fine with me. I was too fucked up to be with someone who was well-adjusted.

The limo turned, entering a gated drive. Then an open, lush, green landscape came into view. We passed several palm trees before we came to a stop in front of a huge, white house. When he'd said villa, I'd been thinking more like a condo. This was bigger than his house in LA. It was a window-lined contemporary mansion. 

The driver opened the back door, helping me out. David was by my side before I had a chance to fully take in our surroundings. 

“David... this is amazing,” I breathed, turning to him.

“You approve?” When I nodded, he wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me onto the long path leading toward the door. “Good. Wanna keep my wife happy.”