Chapter 11

ELEVEN

Colin

" W here is your tie?"

The black-on-black custom suit Owen is wearing is what wet dreams are made of. I drag my eyes down his body in the mirror, distracted by all the ways I want to remove his clothes with my teeth.

Owen steps up behind me, grips the back of my hair in a fist, and pulls. A moan escapes my lips on instinct. The damn man is quickly learning how to play my body against me. Sometimes I'm not sure if he does it on purpose or if it just comes naturally to him. Either way, I have a serious love-hate relationship with it.

"Where is your tie?"he repeats.

"I'm not fucking wearing one."

The grip in my hair tightens, sending shivers of pain mixed with pleasure down my spine.

"It's a black tie event. You are wearing one." That bossy tone goes straight to my dick.

My face heats, and I can see the color change in my cheeks in the mirror when my eyes meet his. "We're the grooms. We don't have to follow the rules. It's a perk."

"You're wearing the fucking tie. If I have to staple it to your throat, I will."

I lift an eyebrow and smirk. "Kinky."

"Owen, are you dressed?" Oliver's voice carries from the bedroom into the closet.

"No! He's jacking off to pictures of my ass!" I yell before Owen can respond.

Owen sighs heavily. "Is this how you are before you have to behave? You have to get all the brat out first?"

A smile lightens my face. "There's an easy way to get it to stop," I tease.

"I'm not rewarding bad behavior. You're like a puppy."

He releases my hair and hands me the tie that's hanging from my suit hanger. Rolling my eyes, I take it and tie the stupid thing. I really hate bow-ties.

Once it's on, I turn to him with arms out to the side. "Happy now?"

"Not hardly." He fusses with it, then drags a fingertip up my throat before turning and leaving me alone. Jerk. I'm not sure what happened since that night we spent on the floor, but he's different. Maybe it's having the security blanket of Oliver home, maybe taking care of him that night changed our dynamic, I don't know. But it's strange.

And it pisses off Oliver, which I am a huge fan of.

By the time we get to Gotham Hall, Owen's nerves are starting to show. I reach for his hand and give it a squeeze.

"We're a team. We'll get through this madhouse together." He nods and squeezes my hand back before dropping it.

Beatrice and the party planner snag us and drag us to the side, forcing Oliver and Isaac inside.

"We have to announce you."

"Good evening to you too, Beatrice. You look lovely." I plaster a fake smile on my face, but she waves me off.

"Remember, everyone will want to talk to you, congratulate you. No running off to get drunk. Oliver can't get you out of this."

"Yes, Mother."

"You." She points a perfectly painted nail at me. "You will not embarrass my family tonight, or so help me god, I will end you."

The urge to fuck with her is so strong, it's almost more than I can stand, but I school my face and my tone. "What part of, I'll do anything to protect him, did you not understand? For what it's worth, this is the last time you will strong arm my husband into doing something he doesn't want to do. Do you understand?"

"You have some nerve to talk to me like that!"

"Mother." Owen's voice is sharp. "I will not tolerate anyone speaking to my husband that way."

That will never not be sexy.

She lifts her nose and spins on her heel, nodding to the planner who has been pretending not to listen.

"Don't talk to my mother anymore. No good will come from it," Owen mutters as we follow the party planner out of the room and into the hallway.

"You'll be announced, the doors will open, and you'll enter. Have a great reception." She smiles kindly at us and hurries off to attend to something else, I'm sure.

"And now, the couple we've all been waiting for, misters Owen and Colin Godfrey!" a man's voice says through a speaker.

"Why am I taking your last name?" Colin asks.

"You don't really have to. That was my mom I'm sure," Owen mutters.

The double doors in front of us open, lights and confetti assault us as I grab Owen's hand and pull him through. With a big smile on my face, we wait and wave as people cheer.

I love the old feel of this building that was originally a bank back in the 1920's. Of course the decor in here probably cost a fortune, but since I'm not paying for it, I don't care. It's classic, timeless, sleek, sophisticated. Everything Beatrice requires.

"Kiss!" someone yells, spurring others on to yell it too. Owen wraps an arm around me, then spins me into a dip. I grip onto the lapels of his jacket, scared he'll drop me for a second before his lips are on mine.

My heart is pounding in my ears, and the only thing I can focus on is Owen. His hold on my body, his mouth against mine, and the way butterflies flutter in my stomach. This man is going to drive me straight to a padded cell.

The kiss doesn't last long and isn't anything obscene since people are around, but my head spins just the same when he brings me back to my feet.

"Well played." I breathe.

A server offers us champagne flutes that we both take. There are so many people in here. People who want to talk to us and shake hands. Luckily for Owen, I'm a people person, but I doubt he's going to make it through this unscathed.

We mingle, moving from group to group, shaking hands, kissing cheeks when it's expected, and make small talk.

I'm. Bored. To. Death.

It's been about an hour when the tinkling of metal on glass sounds somewhere in the room. The people around us smile and look at us expectantly.

Oh no.

Without hesitation, I grab Owen's face and kiss him quickly. Everyone cheers and claps, and I force a smile to my face. I'm almost afraid to look at Owen. Did he know about this? Doubtful.

Is this what it's like to be a show pony? Here, do a trick so all the people can see how cute you are. Ridiculous.

"Excuse us, for just a second." I reach for Owen and drag him with me toward the hallway that leads to the bathrooms.

"What the fuck was that?" he demands once we're alone.

"I could ask you the same thing! She's your mother!"

"What?"

"She planned this! Every time someone hits their glass, we're expected to kiss."

Owen groans and pinches the bridge of his nose. Oliver and Isaac shove through the door, getting our attention.

"Everything okay?" Isaac asks, looking between us.

"Why didn't you have to do this?" Owen demands.

"Do what?" Oliver asks.

"This kiss every time someone rings a fucking bell."

"Because I didn't allow Mother to plan any part of my wedding."

"How much longer do I have to stay?"

"We have another like five hours," I tell him.

"This is like forcing me to like you by desensitization."

"You can thank your mother for that." I reach for his hand. "Take a deep breath, we can do this."

Cassie finds us when we re-enter the ballroom, jumping at me in a hug.

"Way to steal my husband," she snickers in my ear.

"You owe me."

Olivia joins our little group with Oliver and Isaac.

"I can't believe you didn't tell me about this." She gets a hug from both Owen and me, then puts a hand on her hip. "We need to do lunch so you can fill me in."

"Me too!" Cassie chimes in. She's well aware Owen and I were not secretly dating, but I'm sure she wants to hear the whole story.

"You can both come to the apartment," Isaac suggests.

"Absolutely not," Oliver and Owen say at the same time.

Everyone stares between them. "It's bad enough Colin is there. Stop inviting more people in. It's crowded enough."

The fact that my mere existence annoys Oliver really does bring me joy.

"They aren't moving in, relax." Isaac waves Oliver's reasoning away.

A server pops up behind me, startling me. On reflex I swing my arm out, knocking over a tray full of drinks. The server and I stare at each other in shock for a second. Oops.

"I-I-I-I'm so sorry," she stammers, quickly dropping to a crouch to gather what she can of the broken glasses.

"You are a menace to the public," Oliver deadpans, and I glare at him.

"Fuck off," I tell him. To the server, I apologize, but she runs away with what looks like tears in her eyes. Shit.

"Mother is going to have a fit over this." Owen sighs.

"It was not the girl's fault," I try to argue.

"No, it was yours," Oliver says.

"Knock it off," Owen snaps at both of us before I can retort.

The tinkling of glass sounds again, and Owen groans a half second before grabbing me again, more aggressively this time, and slams his mouth on mine.

Oliver and I bickered half the night until Owen separated us. The more alcohol I had, the worse it got. I'm almost sorry for it.

"I behaved, I deserve a kiss," I announce to my silk-clad husband, scrolling through his phone.

"I've kissed you eleven times tonight, and you made a server cry."

I cross my arms over my chest. "Those were pecks for the crowd, and that was an accident! And I convinced Isaac to suck Oliver off in the bathroom so he didn't murder anyone. I saved a life tonight. I'm a hero."

"Excuse me?" He looks up from his phone with his eyebrows pulled together.

"The only excuse for you is Oliver."

"I don't need to know any more about my brother's sex life than I already do. Keep those details to yourself." He goes back to his phone while I crawl across the bed in only short shorts to straddle his lap.

"Oh, I have so many more details. I guess you'll have to kiss me to stop me from telling you about that time I walked in on them in the dorm. Isaac was tied–"

Owen grabs my face. "If you don't stop talking, I'm hiding your sex toys."

A cheshire cat smile turns up my lips. "Have you been going through my things? Snooping a bit? I have to admit, I'm proud of you."

"There's no need when you leave them in the bed, on the bathroom counter, and you don't know how to close a drawer."

"Oh sweet summer child, those aren't mine. Those are for you."

He blinks twice, then pushes me away from his face. "Go to sleep. I don't have the energy for you."