Wicked Wedding, an all-new sexy standalone novel, from New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Sawyer Bennett is available NOW!
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What a gem of a read this turned out to be! And definitely something that I haven’t read before. It has everything that we look for in a contemporary romance, but with fresh storyline that had me addicted the entire time.
It was nearly impossible not to love Andrew and Brynne! And together, they’re absolutely on fire; their chemistry is something that I’m always looking for in any of my reads. And don’t even get me started on their pretty hilarious banter … seriously, you’ll be entertained the entire time.
I’m not even sure where to begin with EVERYTHING that goes down in this book. I loved all the twists and turns, and I’ll be honest and say a certain kind of taboo life was rather eye-opening. And I pass no judgment but liked that all involved carried on with their lives like everything was so natural for them.
It was great watching these two figure out their present especially together. Brynne was burned in one of the worst ways possible, so emotions and understandable anger were at an all-time high.
Sooooooo many things to love about their story, but I just enjoyed seeing everything unfold in the best way possible!
“Let me prop the door open and I’ll carry you over the threshold,” I tell Brynne as I press the keycard against the magnetic reader.
She giggles, a sound I normally find grating on a grown woman, but on Brynne it’s charming. Her cheeks are flushed, and her eyes are still sparkling with energy.“Well,you are very Thor-like, so a girl would be crazy to refuse to be carried over the threshold by her husband.”
That’s right. I’m her husband, but let’s rewind just a bit to detail how this all went down.
It took me exactly fifteen minutes and three phone calls to set things up, just as I promised her.
The first call was to the nicest, swankiest Vegas chapel that I could find with a Google search. I was advised we’d have to obtain a license at the Las Vegas Marriage Bureau for the low price of seventy-five dollars, and I wasn’t surprised in the least to learn it was open twenty-four hours a day on the weekends. I was able to arrange a limousine to pick us up, as well as an explosion of flowers within the chapel itself. When I gave my credit card number to the woman, I told her to go crazy on decor, but I specifically requested white calla lilies for the bride bouquet because Brynne told me those were her favorites.
The second call was to a jeweler where I was able to purchase two very simple wedding bands in gold. It’s a detail I probably could have ignored considering we both knew this was just for fun, but fuck it. I’m rich, which means I have the ability to make this as nice as I can for Brynne.
The third call was to my attorney, who explained annulment laws and assured me it was a fairly straightforward process. I’d have to institute the action—called a complaint—and if Brynne waives service, we can present our annulment request to the court to be approved after twenty days. It wasn’t immediate, but twenty days was nothing in the grand scheme of things.
By the time we took a limo to the marriage bureau, stood in line for about thirty minutes with other like minded folks, and then made our way to the chapel, we’d sobered up quite a bit.
“You sure you want to do this?” she asked me just before we went in.“I mean… it was a fun notion when we were a little more buzzed.”
“Hell yes,” I’d told her with a devilish grin.“Mostly so we can send a picture to the whore and the asshole.”
Her laugh was sparkling and beautiful and just a little evil, which made her infinitely more attractive to me.“It’s all in good fun with no risk,” I’d added on to assure her.
So we went in, both of us grinning like fools during the ceremony. It felt fake, because it was fake, but in some respects, it’s the most real thing I’ve ever done. Because what we were doing had real purpose. It was to give Brynne and her glorious wedding dress a moment to shine.
It became even more real when the minister—who was not dressed like Elvis, but was very dapper in a dark gray suit with an old-fashioned cravat tied at his neck—told us in a very cultured voice,“You may kiss the bride.”
I hadn’t thought about the kiss.
I mean, I’d thought of kissing her because she’s sexy and vibrant and smiling despite the fact she was shit on hard today. But I hadn’t thought about the“wedding kiss”. Because even though this is all fake, somehow a man giving us formal permission to put our mouths together to seal our marriage vows makes it very fucking real.
There was no hesitation. When my lips touched hers and she gave a tiny huff of pleasure, I realized I wanted to consummate this fake marriage very badly.
I did not, however, know if Brynne felt the same. Because today would probably go down as the worst and weirdest of her life, I wasn’t going to push. Instead, I took her out for a radically expensive late dinner and then we hit a popular jazz club where we listened to music.
And then it happened.
A slow song was played. A bluesy number people just sort of sway to, and I asked her to dance with me.
It was Brynne who kissed me. Slid her delicate fingers into my hair, went to her tiptoes in her gray tennis shoes with teal-blue accents, and pressed her mouth to mine. My mind reeled, and my cock started to twitch to attention as we swayed and kissed. The words were forming in my mind on how best to invite her into my bed without sounding like an opportunistic douche, but then it didn’t matter.
She pulled her mouth from mine, relaxing and tipping her head back to see me.“If we have sex tonight, does that ruin our chances of getting an annulment?”
I had no fucking clue what the answer was. It had never crossed my mind I might actually get the chance to fuck her, so I didn’t ask my attorney.
“Not that I know of,” I hedge. At least I didn’t flat-out lie to her.
“Good,” she said with a smile.“Let’s go to my hotel room.”