PROLOGUE
Reyna
Oh, my God. I’m getting married.
The reality of that lit me up like the lights of the Vegas strip that blazed around me as I came to the end of my nearly four-hour drive from Pasadena to Las Vegas. When Dean, my fiancé, first suggested that we elope, I thought the idea was crazy. There was no way my parents or his parents would go for that. My upper-middle-class parents were thrilled that their daughter was marrying several social rungs above them, and they wanted to show that off to the world. Dean’s family had the kind of money in which just about everything they did was a show of their wealth and influence. But Dean made a good point when he said the wedding was no longer ours. We were the ones getting ready to commit our lives to each other, but neither of us had any say in the ceremony or the reception. As he continued to plead his point, the idea sounded romantic.
“Besides, Rey, they can still throw that big reception party. Run away with me.”
I wasn’t sure our families would accept a reception as a consolation prize, but as Dean stared at me with his earnest chocolate brown eyes and charming grin, how could I say no?
Dean made all the plans, showing up earlier that day. The following day, we’d get our marriage license and get married. I had planned to show up the next morning because I’d had my semester finals that morning, and then that evening, I was expected at a holiday party at my parents’ house. I was pretty sure I’d aced my exams, and I showed up at my parents’ house saying hello to all the important people, but I was too keyed up to stay. I wanted to get to Dean and start our lives together.
I pulled into the hotel parking area, taking the ticket from the machine and for a moment, gaping in shock at the amount it was going to cost to park my car in the hotel we were staying in. I came from a family of modest means, but all my money currently came from my parents as I finished up graduate school and got ready to start a career in law. I reminded myself that I was fortunate to have parents who had funded my college and graduate school education. It didn’t come without stipulations, though. My parents chose my course of study and career path. Or more accurately, they gave me a choice between being a lawyer or a doctor, and since a lawyer required significantly less schooling, I went with that. I suppose it was fortunate that I didn’t mind law school or the idea of being a lawyer. To be honest, I wasn’t sure what I would choose to be if I’d been able to set my course in life. I didn’t have the type of parents who nurtured my natural skills or passions. I had to adopt theirs.
I’d had a few moments over the last year when I’d considered standing up to my parents and doing what I wanted to do. Especially when they set me up on a blind date with the son of Dalton Winters, from the richest, most prestigious family in the area. Luckily for me, Dean turned out to be a great catch. So I stayed the course that my parents had planned out for me the moment I was born.
Of course, eloping to Las Vegas wasn’t part of my parents’ plan, so in some ways, I was standing up for myself and what I wanted.
It’s about damn time.
An uneasy feeling settled through me at that thought. I liked to think I was a strong and smart, independent woman, but in truth, I wasn’t. At least, not independent. Until now.
I wasn’t going to worry too much about upsetting my parents because in the end, they were getting what they wanted—their daughter married into an affluent, prestigious family. And in doing so, I’d help solidify the business deal my father had with Dean’s father. It was a win-win all around.
I exited my car and pulled out my suitcase, rolling it behind me as I made my way into the lobby of the hotel. It was like walking into a pinball machine, with lights flashing and bells ringing in the casino. Dean had texted me the room number and told me that my name was on the room. I went to the front desk, giving the desk clerk my name and room number, and after looking it up on the computer, she gave me a key.
Excitement zapped through me again as I stepped into the elevator and pressed the button for the fourteenth floor. Traditionally, it was bad luck for the groom to see the bride before the wedding, but I didn’t put any stock into superstition. Dean didn’t either.
When I reached the floor and exited the elevator, I thought of my friend Caryn. She’d been my best friend for as long as I could remember, and while I could get married without my parents, I really wanted my best friend with me. I suppose that was harsh and said something about my relationship with my parents. But the wedding excited my parents because of what it would bring them, whereas Caryn was excited at what it would bring me.
I reached the door, and another thrill ran through me, except this time it wasn’t just excitement to get married, but also excitement to see my man. I wondered how long it would take before we were naked and writhing in pleasure on the bed.
I swiped the key card over the lock, and when the green light flashed, I pressed the handle down, pushing the door open. I stepped into the suite. It was dark except for the moonlight shining in through the floor-to-ceiling windows.
A groan filled the room. “Fuck yeah. You like my cock, don’t you?”
I stilled.
“I love your cock. Your big, dirty, nasty cock.”
The desk clerk had given me the wrong key. I was in the wrong room. A room where two people were having sex on the couch.
The man groaned again. “I’m going to come. I’m going to fill your wet pussy until my cum is dripping.”
The woman moaned and cried out. “Yes, Dean. Fill me with your cum.”
Everything inside me went cold. I realized I wasn’t in the wrong room. Dean was on the couch with a woman straddled over him, fucking him wildly. But it wasn’t just any woman. It was Caryn. My best friend was fucking my fiancé. My fiancé was fucking my best friend.
My legs turned gelatinous as realization dawned. In my head, I was screaming at them, but in reality, nothing left my mouth. I stood like an idiot as my best friend orgasmed. Almost immediately, Dean swept her up, switching their positions so that she was on all fours on the couch, and he came in behind her, fucking her doggy-style.
He slapped her ass. “Here it comes, baby. Are you ready? Are you ready for me to fill that sweet pussy of yours?”
“Fill me, Dean. Fill me with your cum. Fuck me harder, harder...” She moaned as another orgasm swept through her.
Dean’s hips pistoned back and forth, and he threw his head back as he bucked and did exactly what he said he’d do—spilled his seed inside my best friend. And apparently, he was doing it without a condom.
As they both came down from their orgasmic highs, my shock and pain morphed into anger.