Page 24 of All In

My cock is steel under my shirt, and I know it’s literally going to take nothing for Grayson to notice it. I have to figure out a way to distract him. Video me moans again like the little slut I apparently am, and Grayson makes a strangled noise from beside me.

“Weddings in Vegas aren’t real, right?” he asks. “They aren’t real. That’s just a thing. People don’t actually get married in Vegas. It’s just for fun. A show. A spectacle.”

I scroll quickly, not able to see another second of us kissing because holy fuck, that’s hot. So hot. My dick is aching. I’m impressed, honestly, considering how hungover I am.

The next photo helps exactly nothing. “This is a photo of a marriage certificate,” I say out loud. It’s a stupid thing to say. Obviously it is. It has my name and Grayson’s and both of our signatures, and the witness lines are filled out. “Are we fucking married?”

Gray turns on his heel and sprints to the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind him seconds before he starts retching. Fucking perfect. So goddamn defective that I had one man leave me at the altar and another throwing his guts up at the mere thought of being married to me. This is great. Best day of my life, hands down.

I toss my phone onto the bed, ignoring all the other notifications, and beat on the bathroom door. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Grayson groans, then throws up again. “I think that’s obvious.”

I scoff, my hangover completely forgotten in the wake of this bullshit. “Yeah, I’m sorry that the idea of being married to me is so gross to you.”

For a second it sounds like he’s crying, so I push open the door, all my anger disappearing because this is Gray, and I fucking love him even when he’s hurting my feelings.

He’s not crying at all. He’s standing in front of the sink, hands gripping the porcelain, laughing. I don’t know what’s so funny about this whole thing.

“Why the fuck are you laughing?” I snap.

He shakes his head. “I drank a fuckload of alcohol last night. Apparently enough that I got to fucking kiss you and don’t even remember it, and you somehow think I’m throwing up because the idea of being married to you is gross to me. It’s funny. I have to laugh, or I’m gonna cry.”

“Oh,” I breathe. “It’s not because of me?”

Gray hooks an arm around my shoulder and hauls me into him, burying his face in my hair. He really needs to brush his teeth again, but as long as he doesn’t kiss me now, it’s probably fine. And why is my brain back on that kiss?

I shift my hips away from him, just in case.

And thank God for that, because he rubs his hand down my back, and my cock springs back to life. Fucking whore. My cock, I mean.

“It’s not because of you,” he murmurs into my hair. “Go order food, and I’m gonna brush my teeth. I’ll be right out.”

He lets go of me, and I step back into the bedroom to the sound of the bathroom door shutting. My legs carry me to the bed, and I sit down on it, then shift, pulling them up so I’m cross-legged. I glance around the bedroom, which is silly considering I’m alone—for the time being—and grab my phone.

Ignoring all the messages, I open my camera roll.

My heart jumps into my throat as I look at the photos.

Gray and I are nose to nose in one as we stare at each other. The next is our lips together in what looks like a sloppy kiss. Another video of us—this one with me kissing Gray’s cheek loudly and him grinning at the camera with hazy eyes.

I turn the volume all the way down on my phone, and then after glancing around again, I pull up the video that was posted online. I watch it on a loop, entranced as my tongue sinks into Gray’s mouth and he grips my hair.

A shiver races down my spine. Fuck. Why have I never kissed Grayson before? He looks like he’s into it. I guess that could just be because he’s drunk, but I don’t know.

The video plays again. There’s something new to look at every time. My fingers clutching his shirt. My tongue flicking against his lower lip. His hand tangled in my hair. The way he uses his grip to move my head exactly how he wants it.

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.

I press my hand to my cock, and the water in the bathroom shuts off, so I toss my phone onto the bed and pull the blanket over my lap quickly just as the door opens and Grayson steps into the room.

He eyes me for a second. I’m pretty sure I’m breathing hard, and I’m actually the worst friend in the world, because when his lips part, my dick pulses. Oh Jesus. Oh my God.

He’s definitely going to notice if I put my hand over it, and he’s for sure going to notice if I press down to try to ease the ache.

“Have you ordered breakfast?”

“What?” I ask, my heart pounding in my ears.