4. Dia

FOUR

What the fuckdid I just do?

No. Seriously. Someone tell me, because I literally just walked out of a fucking Vegas wedding chapel as Mrs. Dalton Davis.

Dia and Dalton Davis. That's too much alliteration. It's not normal. Just like it's not normal to marry someone you act like you hate, just to get the ‘full Vegas experience'. We could've gone to Cirque du Soleil or lost a few hundred dollars at a blackjack table. But nope, here we are. Fucking hitched.

I open the envelope and pull out the hotel information as we walk back toward The Strip. Just like the lady at the chapel said, we have a honeymoon suite for two nights. Not that we'll need both of them. As soon as the courthouse opens in the morning, I'll be first in line to untether myself from this gorgeous piece of man meat before I go and do something stupid like develop feelings for him. That can absolutely not happen.

I can feel Dalton's eyes on me as we move through the crowds of people, his hand resting protectively on my lower back each time someone gets too close. The smell of his spicy cologne makes my head spin every time I inhale it. God, I've really fucking done it this time. I shouldn't have agreed to marry him, and I definitely shouldn't be thinking about letting him rail me so hard I forget my name when we get to the suite, but I fucking am. It's been so long since I've had an adequate dicking, and I can tell just by looking at him that my temporary husband is downright dangerous between the sheets. The sheer strength behind his playful slap back at the chapel makes me imagine what he'd feel like as he drove into me.

"Is this it?" Dalton asks, looking up at the giant hotel. There's a beautiful fountain with a musical light show in front of a well-lit valet area full of luxury cars. I can imagine a suite in this place would cost a fortune, but I'm not really surprised that we've been comped our stay here since Dalton spent over a hundred grand at the chapel between my ring and the wedding.

I double check the paperwork. "Yep," I reply. "We don't have to stay here if you don't want to. If you'd rather go celebrate with the guys, we can go back to the other hotel. I'm sure Mads and Blaze are done playing by now."

He reaches out for my hand, yanking me into his hard body. I shouldn't let him, but maybe I'll just allow it for tonight. Once we get this thing annulled, I'll go back to pushing him away with witty insults and my cold demeanor. Just like I do with everyone else who tries getting too close. "What I want," he growls into my ear, "is to celebrate my wedding night inside my wife."

Fuck.

Am I really going to do this? The wetness between my thighs at his words tells me that, yes, I am, in fact going to have sex with Dalton tonight. The weird part that I would absolutely never admit out loud is that I'm kind of nervous about it. He's a literal manwhore. He's been with some of the most beautiful, thin, successful women in the world. My once perfectly toned dancer's body is now soft and full in some places. I have stretch marks from years of fluctuating weights. What if I don't match up to what he's used to? What if I let him down tonight?

But I guess none of that matters since it'll never happen again. So, fuck it.

"Okay," I whisper.

He grins as he interlocks our fingers before leading me into the massive lobby. Everything is trimmed in gold with intricate designs adorning the light fixtures. My heels click loudly on the shiny marble beneath my feet as we approach the desk.

The desk clerk puts on a flirty smile. "Good evening, sir," she says in a sultry tone. "Welcome to Royal Suites. What can I do for you?" The bitch looks right at him in his stupid fucking tuxedo shirt, standing next to me in my wedding dress, and flutters her fake fucking eyelashes. Dalton grabs the envelope from my hand and takes out the paperwork. Does he not notice the way she's looking at him like she wants to swallow him whole?

"Hi," he replies. "My wife and I are checking in." He slides everything across the counter. She takes it, trying her best to brush his hand with hers. But he's oblivious as he quickly returns his hand to mine.

Take that, homewrecker.

"Thanks," she says, changing her tactics by shyly pushing a piece of hair behind her ear, only taking her eyes off of him to type on her computer. When he doesn't react, she goes back to doing her job. "Okay," she says. "It looks like you have a two-night stay in our honeymoon penthouse. Everything is already paid for, and you have a five-hundred-dollar credit for room service. Here's an extra key card in case you need it."

Dalton looks at me. "No need for that. I'm not letting this one out of my sight now that I finally wore her down and got her to agree to marry me."

This guy is too charming for his own good.

Jolene, not her name, but that's what I'm calling her, continues to act like I'm not here, trying one last time to get his attention by giggling as she hands the paperwork back to him. But he's still looking at me as he reaches out to take it and pulls me away without a word.

Maybe I accidentally flip her off over my shoulder as we walk away, too. Whatever.

Dalton leads me into the elevator, where an attendant awaits. He's an older man, with gray hair and a big, bushy mustache. He looks like someone's adorable grandpa. I always wanted one of those. But my parents burned pretty much every bridge with every family member we had before I was even born, so I never met any of them. I used to make up stories to tell kids at school about how my grandparents were rich and lived outside the country. I'd talk about how they would send me all sorts of exotic gifts and candy from their travels. Truthfully, I never had any of those things. Christmas would come around every year and my parents had blown all of their money on God knows what instead of even attempting to make me believe in the magic of Santa. I learned at a very young age that some people were just dealt a shitty hand in life. And I was one of them.

The only sense of belonging I've ever really felt has been with Mads and her parents. They've always treated me as their own, even though it's not quite the same as having love from my own flesh and blood. Her mom was the one to sign me up for my first dance class when I was in the third grade. I would dance around their house and annoy the crap out of them, until one day, Diane told me I could turn that into a job if I wanted to. Being young and naive, I decided that I wanted to be a dancer when I grew up. I practiced so hard and put all of my energy into achieving my goals. But my parents were quick to tell me that girls like me don"t get jobs like that. That I would never be able to achieve such a big dream. It made me want to give up, but I just couldn't. It was my passion. I still gave it my all throughout high school and was offered a scholarship to the New York School of Dance, but I wasn't even able to accept it. It covered tuition and board, but I would've been responsible for any other costs of living. I had no money saved and was denied for student loans because of mistakes I didn't even make on my own.

It wasn"t until I had to get a job in order to help my parents with some legal bills that I quit dancing altogether. Work took up most of my free time, and I was constantly too exhausted to even consider going to the studio on my days off. I miss it so much, but it"s too late now.

"Where to, folks?" my new pretend grandpa says as the elevator doors slowly close.

Dalton holds up our key card. "The honeymoon penthouse," he says.

"Newlyweds?" The man says, excitedly. "Congratulations!"

Dalton winks at me, making me crack a small smile. I can't fucking help it. He's just so handsome and charming.

"Ahhhhh," the attendant continues as he presses the button to bring us to the top floor. "I remember my wedding day. Seems like just yesterday. My Marsha almost gave me a heart attack when those church doors opened. As she made her way toward me, I couldn"t help but think of how lucky I was to get to share my life with her." His eyes begin to water at the memory. "That was almost fifty years ago, and I love her now even more than I did that day."

What would it be like to have someone love me for that long? I can't even imagine it. Everyone that I've let into my heart has let me down by leaving or hurting me. Except for Mads. She's all I have, and that's all I need.

But she has a new someone now.

I'm beyond happy that my best friend has found love. Blaze is absolutely perfect for her in every way. He gives her love and support in ways that most people only dream of from their partner, and I could never be jealous of that. But I do wonder where I'll be once they're married with a family of their own. Will I still fit into her life? Or will I have to figure out how to go it alone?

The elevator dings softly as it comes to a stop. The doors open, revealing the lobby to our suite. Just like downstairs, everything is dark wood with gorgeous gold accents. The floors look like they have never been stepped on before. They're so clean and shiny. This is the most beautiful place I've ever seen.

Dalton puts a hand on my lower back and guides me out of the elevator. Before the doors close, the attendant addresses us again. "I have a good feeling about you guys. I wish you all the happiness marriage has brought me."

"Thank you," I say quietly before the doors close, leaving us alone.