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They’d met Dominic only once, via Skype, in a super awkward ten-minute conversation. That was all the time my selfish parents could spare for the man who wanted to marry their only daughter. Dominic and I had booked our plane tickets months ago for Evie’s wedding, in the same fucking city where my parents lived, and still, plans to meet face-to-face were up in the air. I’d sort of stopped trying to make it happen, and I’d bet on my life that we’d fly back to Tokyo without seeing them. “Sorry, Payton, I wish we could, but it’s been such a hectic week,” I could already hear my mother saying.

“Next,” I demanded.

“Your parents said they’d pay for the wedding.”

I practically snorted. “See, we’d be saving them money.”

He ran a hand over my hip, then fingertips traced in the hollow of my back. “You could invite everyone from the club.” The way he delivered the statement was odd. There was some sort of meaning I wasn’t picking up on, and his expression turned devious. “I thought you’d love that, your ultra conservative parents footing the bill for dinner and an open bar for a bunch of high-class escorts.”

“Oh my God.” I couldn’t stop the grin. “You’re right, I do love that. Fuck, I’m such a bitch.” And I wasn’t even sorry about it.

“Don’t get me wrong, devil woman.” The fingertips skimmed up over my shoulder blades, all the way until he tucked a lock of hair behind my ear and cupped my face. “You know I want to give you whatever you want, and I’m so fucking glad that happens to include my last name. But I think I want the party, and the dress, and all that shit. I want everyone there to celebrate with us, and see how incredibly lucky I am.”

I felt warm and giddy inside, but I couldn’t let on how much his words affected me. Whenever things grew serious, my immediate response was sarcasm to cover my vulnerability. So I faked disdain. “You’re such a romantic.”

“And maybe I just want a wedding so afterward I can tear the dress off of my wife on our wedding night and fuck her like the dirty girl she is.”

I closed the space between us, kissing him sweetly. “Shit, Dominic, you should have led with that. If that’s what you want, that’s what I want, too.”

The alarm on Dominic’s phone began chiming at seven, and we stumbled to the shower together, bleary-eyed. Even though it was nine in the morning tomorrow in Japan, the three-hour nap hadn’t done much to recharge.

“I saw a Walgreens a block away,” Dominic said as he scrubbed shampoo into his hair. “We can grab some Red Bull and slam it in the cab on our way to the restaurant.”

“Can I mainline it?”

We hurried to get dressed. Dominic pulled on a French blue button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled back and black pants. The shirt matched the color of his eyes and showed off the watch I’d bought him.

I tugged the hem down of my seafoam green dress and slipped my feet into a sexy pair of nude heels. Then I donned my chandelier earrings and tousled my hair once more. “You ready?”

“I’m waiting for you to ask me something.”

What . . . ? Oh. I loved this game. How the fuck had I forgotten? I strolled over to him, hooking my fingers through his belt loops and pulling his lower body tight against mine. “Do I have your permission to wear panties tonight . . . Sir?”

His expression was victory mixed with desire. “I’ll allow it for now.” His kiss was hungry and over too soon. “You look beautiful tonight,” he whispered.

His compliment threw me off balance, but in a great way. I struggled to recover and cracked the joke, “I always look beautiful.”

“That’s what I love most about you.”

“How humble I am?”

It came out serious. “No, that you look almost as good as I do. Your personality’s not important.”

I flicked him on his hip, hitting his tattoo that matched mine.

We did exactly as Dominic had suggested and drank Red Bull on our way to the Italian restaurant, which was packed with people. I clung to his thick arm as we wove through the crowd and headed up the stairs to where Logan had texted us the table was located.

Evie looked flat out gorgeous. A pre-wedding glow, perhaps. Her excitement at marrying Logan was like a filter, making everything seem brighter and better. Would I be like this the final days before marrying Dominic? I already felt that way.

I hugged her fiercely. “Fuck, I missed you.”

She smiled as she pulled back. “Right back at you.”

We turned to watch our fiancés shake hands, which seemed too formal, but I had the feeling Logan wasn’t the hugging type. Which was exactly why I stepped up and wrapped my arms around him. He went rigid in my embrace and his gaze shifted to Dominic, worried. It made me choke back a laugh. Yeah, I’d had sex with Logan, but I knew Dominic was comfortable with this. I’d made it crystal clear to my future husband that he was all I ever wanted. And it was so much fun to see typically composed Logan uncomfortable.

I squeezed a hand on Logan’s shoulder. “You remember what I said?”

“That if I’m late to the wedding, you’ll rip off my dick and shove it up my ass?” Logan’s intense eyes blinked, unfazed. “No, I’d forgotten. Please tell me again.”


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