He gets it.
He understands.
My son is a mini-version of me and how did that happen? He wasn’t around me. We spent very little time together and yet there he is, showing Shawn how to clip on his bowtie and giving Stevie the once-over to see if he’s perfect.
He is. Those three are . . . well, I can’t even think it or I’ll get all choked up.
“We could’ve gotten Adam a real tie, Carmichael,” Roth says.
“Loan him yours,” Saint suggests.
“Yeah, swap,” Callan teases.
Tahoe laughs. “I’m happy to go without one.”
“But you won’t,” Gina says, wrapping her arm around his waist when she joins us.
“How’s my bride?” I glance at Gina, then check the time on my gold watch, a wedding present from one of the online poker rooms.
“She’s about to put on her dress,” Gina says.
“Then I’ll be right back.” I motion for Adam to keep an eye on the boys and he nods and smiles. He really likes having Jack’s sons around.
“Whoa there, young man,” Livvy says, stepping in front of me. “Your bride isn’t quite ready for you.”
“Let me just kiss her and tell her good luck.”
Livvy turns her cheek up and points to it. “Put it there and I’ll deliver it for you.”
“Livvy. Come on. Give him a free pass.” Callan’s voice sounds like a dropped grenade over the commotion. “They’ve already seen one another so the traditional superstitions are squashed.”
She shrugs. “Can’t blame the gatekeeper for trying.” She moves aside. “But five minutes.”
I breeze past her and to the stairs. I picture my gorgeous bride darting from one side of the bedroom to the next and call over my shoulder, “Make it fifteen. I need to talk to her about something important.”
Behind me, there’s an explosion of laughter and I’m fine with that. They can place bets on what will transpire, but today’s our wedding day and it started out in a nontraditional way. I have a little something on my mind to keep with that tradition.
Inching inside our bedroom, I close and lock the door behind me. “Wynn?”
“I’m in here.” The bathroom door is shut. “I’ll be out in a minute.”
I knock because I’m impatient, but also because I hear her sniffles. “Honey, open the door.”
“I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because everything is just so perfect and I have to leave it this way. I’m afraid if I open the door and . . . well, I’m afraid if I change anything now it won’t be so perfect and it won’t be real and maybe it won’t even happen!”
“Open the door or I’m picking the lock.” I jiggle the doorknob. “I want to see my beautiful bride. Please?”
A few seconds pass before she emerges and as soon as she does, my eyes fill with tears and I’m not a dude who cries, but I’ve never seen a more beautiful woman.
Never.
Not in magazines.
Not in movies.
Not even in my fantasies.
“You take my breath away.”
“I’m in my robe!” Her hand trembles as she brushes back a tendril of hair. “My makeup isn’t even finished.”
“You’re perfect.” I mean it. She is stark raving beautiful. “Want me to call the minister and ask him to come upstairs and marry us here?”
“I thought we were getting married at the casino property.”
“We are.” I tilt her chin to mine and slant my lips over hers. “But we can say our vows anywhere.”
“Cullen, we have people waiting for us.”
So what. “I, Cullen Carmichael, take you, Wynn Watson.”
“To have and to hold?” It doesn’t take her long to play along. “In sickness and in health?”
“In sickness and health,” I agree, admiring her as she stands a little taller.
“And?”
“For richer and richer and richer and richer.” I rock against her.
She frowns. “Very funny.”
“I’m counting my riches by those who’ll be seated around our family’s table.”
“Oh, Cullen,” she breathes. She latches her arms around my neck and her forehead rests against mine. “You’re everything I ever wanted.”
“But?”
“But we have a lot of wedding guests waiting.”
“Yes, we do,” I say, pulling away but not unaware of how her fingers tighten on the back of my hand. “I’ll behave, but only because I can’t wait to call you my wife.”
“I do,” she says.
I look at her and read her perfectly. “I do, too.”
Smiling recklessly, she pulls me to her in a kiss that’s meant to lead into a quickie. “I need you, Cullen. I can’t do this if I don’t know . . .”
“You know,” I whisper, dragging my fingers up and down her arms. “You know how much I want you, need you, and love ONLY you.”
“Then don’t wait until the vows have been said in front of our friends. We’ve said them here. We’re not good at waiting.”
“If I start . . .”
“I know,” she says, rolling her eyes. “You’ll go all night.”
I smirk. “You’re fucked for that little comment.”
“Cullen, I’m so happy right now I don’t want to wake up from this ever.”
I seize her chin between my thumb and forefinger. “Ditto to that, Red,” I rasp, leaning over and kissing her on the lips.
She parts her mouth, kissing me like only she can.
“We’ll work it out. With the boys. Don’t worry for a second—”
“I’m not worried. I’m so happy.”
She wraps her arms around my neck, and I hold her, squeezing her tight.
I need in her. The emotions too raw, too on the surface. I start to kiss her for real, faster and harder, my girl trembling from all the excitement of the day and what’s to come.
There’s love and lust and passion and forever.
I back her to the bathroom counter and boost her up, exposing her nakedness beneath the robe. I unzip and thrust inside her as hard and wild as I can, watching as my dick sinks between her thighs and that age-old look of satisfaction washes over my young bride’s face.
“Faster,” she whispers, scooting forward.
“I’m not getting in a rush,” I tell her, pulling out and going to my knees. I quickly put her legs on my shoulders and rub my jaw against her thigh. My words are softly spoken as I coax her, making her settle down before I settle down too, but in a different way altogether.
My lips lower. Her back arches.
My tongue is there. Right. Fucking. There.
She throws her arms behind her hips to brace herself and thrusts forward, my mouth capturing her most intimate lips in a lust-filled claiming that I’ll never forget. She’s wet for me as I tongue my way to her sweet center, my cock painfully hard the second I taste her.
“Cullen,” she breathes, her hands in my hair as she pushes down on my head.
I eye her full breasts and just about lose it. This woman—my woman—is the whole damn package.
“Cullen,” she whispers, her legs tightening against my head.
I lick her long and lovingly, enjoying the way she bucks and writhes. Sure, the honeymoon is tonight, but I can’t wait. Won’t wait. Don’t wait.
I jerk my head up and watch as her eyelids flutter and her lips pucker and so help me, I can’t help myself. I can’t stop.
Giving her more, I tip her clit with my thumb and bend down to have some more, taste her pleasure as her orgasm rolls over her. I drive her closer and closer, fucking her with my tongue and right when her body tightens, I rise up and drive inside her.
“Cullen!”
“Say it again and again,” I whisper, eating at her lips, fucking her like crazy as her pussy shatters around my cock.
We come together, rocking out a sweet and crazy-passionate climax.
When we finish, we’r
e kissing and laughing and still physically joined together. And it’s not even a surprise when the explosive end leads to another round of mind-blowing, toe-curling, body-rocking, and obsessive-as-hell fuck-fest.
Wynn
We’re late to our own wedding. Okay, so we’re not that late, but we’re late.
My mom and dad are waiting. Oliver is here. Some of our Vegas friends and neighbors. I squeeze Rachel’s hand while shooting Livvy and Gina a big smile.
“Oh, girls, I didn’t even mention your dresses. They’re beautiful!” And familiar. I frown at first and then as if they read my mind and I read theirs, we all burst into laughter.
They’re the dresses from Livvy’s wedding; Livvy’s probably wearing mine.
“Okay now, stop,” Livvy says, holding up her hand before we say it. “We can’t laugh or cry because we’ll mess up our makeup.”
“It must be said,” Gina says.
“For real,” I concur, waiting for it.
Rachel rolls her eyes and in an exaggerated voice says, “These dresses are so pretty. Your bridesmaids will wear them to countless events, long after the wedding is over.”
It’s the sales pitch from every bridal shop in America.
Rachel says, “We did good though, right?”
“They’re the best,” I agree, growing nervous.
“We didn’t have time to get anything altered,” Rachel admits.
I twist my hands and Gina says, “Oh, I almost forgot.” She opens the limo fridge and pulls out a bouquet full of lilies. “Now you’re ready to walk like a bride.”
“You thought of everything.”
“Cullen did,” Rachel says, pointing behind us. “Looks like they’re ready for us.”
“This is it, girls.” I breathe out a dreamy sigh, knowing the guys are in the limo behind us and wondering what Cullen is thinking. “He won’t back out, will he?”
“Why would he back out?” Gina asks, rolling her eyes. “I mean, it’s not like he rode the horse before he had the saddle strapped to its back.”
“Ha!” We all burst out laughing.
“That was pretty good,” Rachel says.
We laugh again.
The casino’s chauffeur rolls down the privacy glass. “Oliver gave me strict instructions to wait here.”
“We’ll cue everyone from here,” Livvy says, pointing to Gina. “You’re up first, girl.”
Minutes later, the door swings open and Tahoe is there, looking like her dashing prince as he offers his arm. They walk down a beautiful white carpet with potted plants on either side before making their way to the gazebo.
“There’s an orchestra?” I can’t believe it. They’re playing a beautiful ensemble but I can’t quite make out the tune.
Rachel is next. “I’m up.”
“You’re beautiful,” Sin tells her when he helps her from the car. He plants a sultry kiss on her lips before guiding her to the carpet.
Livvy and Callan stroll about a hundred feet behind Rachel and Sin while I struggle to catch my breath, but it’s impossible to breathe.
I don’t know if I can do this or not.
My nerves are getting the best of me.
In and out and in again.
Breathe, Wynn. Breathe. Breathe.
And then I see HIM.
He’s so polished and pulled together and looks like the man I wanted to marry in my dreams. He IS the man from my dreams. He’s so perfect and handsome that it’s almost as if I dreamt him straight into my life.
I’m about to open the car door when I see the boys take their places beside him. Adam, Cullen’s sweet and handsome son, is to his dad’s left, standing between Cullen and Callan. I focus on the way he stands there proudly and I feel a deep-rooted sense of pride when I see him take little Shawn’s hand and motion for Stevie to join them, too.
I press my lips together and pray. Don’t let me cry. Please don’t let me cry.
My dad is there, opening the car door for me now, and as he reaches for me, he whispers, “Only one other bride was this beautiful and I married her forty-one years ago today.”
“Oh Dad,” I say and as we embrace, I look down the aisle at Cullen and the rushed wedding ceremony on this particular day makes perfect sense.
He did this for me.
He did this for them.
He thought of absolutely everything.
“He’s a great guy, sweetheart.” He pats my hand and tucks my arm under his, leading me away from the car to stand near the ceremonial gardens, the gardens that weren’t there until my sweet Silver Eyes and best friends and parents made it possible.
“Ready, sweetheart?”
“Ready, Dad.”
He nods and the bridal march begins to play.
I walk toward my handsome groom and just can’t take my eyes off him. He’s so perfect that I can’t believe he’s mine and I’m his.
“I’m lucky,” I say, mouthing the words to Cullen but saying them to my dad.
“I think so,” Dad says.
“Yes, you are,” Cullen mouths, meaning something else altogether.
We reach the gazebo and Cullen accepts my hand from my father. I turn and hug him and he seems to be okay with letting me go.
“Hi,” I whisper, suddenly timid.
“What took you so long?” he says.
“Don’t rush me today, Playboy. I’ve been waiting for this day for most of my adult life.”
I was a little louder than intended and the audience erupts in laughter. I peer over my shoulder and spot more of our Chicago friends—Pepper, the Bensons, Valentine, and Isaac—and a few recognizable faces from Las Vegas—the lady from the adoption agency, Jack’s lawyer, a couple of gamblers, and Mike.
Then, I also spot two expected guests sitting unexpectedly together—Cullen and Callan’s parents. I smile at my in-laws before turning to my own parents and mouthing, “I love you.”
I refocus on my husband-to-be, my sexy Silver Eyes. Next to my handsome groom are the boys who will soon think of me as their mother. And Adam, already mine, my boy in every way that counts.
“How’d I do?” he asks, holding my hand.
“Everything is perfect, just like you,” I say, standing before the minister and ready to do this.
The vows and wedding music, everything is just as it should be. Honest. Pure. Lovely. While we may not have had a traditional wedding day, the customary ceremony is beautiful and I wouldn’t change a thing.
As I’m reveling in my happiness, thinking it can’t get much better than this, it does. I mean, it really, really does.
Adam holds out his arm to us and turns to the crowd and says, “Ladies and gentlemen, I’m proud to present to you . . . Mr. and Mrs. Cullen Carmichael, my dad and stepmom.”
He then nudges Shawn who shyly says, “You’re supposed to kiss her now.”
Cullen grins. “Then turn your heads, boys, because I’m doing this right.” Our kiss lasts and lasts and I’ve never been happier.
I wanted a love that lasts.
I longed for my happy ending.
Cullen gave me everything in one beautiful wedding day. I couldn’t ask for anything more . . . except maybe a little girl.
DEAR READERS,
Thanks so much for reading Playboy. I hope you enjoyed Cullen and Wynn’s story as much as I enjoyed writing it. They were so addictive that I couldn’t leave them, not for a minute or a second. Hope your reading experience was just as immersive and exciting!
XOXO,
Katy
TITLES BY KATY EVANS
TYCOON
MOGUL
White House series:
MR. PRESIDENT
COMMANDER IN CHIEF
WHITE HOUSE (duet bundle)
Manwhore series:
MANWHORE
MANWHORE +1
MS. MANWHORE
LADIES’ MAN
WOMANIZER
PLAYBOY
Real series:
REAL
MINE
REMY
ROGUE
RIPPED
LEGEND
RACER
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Although writing is a personal thing and sometimes quite a lonely profession, publishing is a whole other beast, and I couldn’t do it without the help and support of my amazing team. I’m grateful to you all.
To my family, I love you!
Thank you Amy and everyone at Jane Rotrosen Agency!
Thank you to my editors, copy editors, proofer, and betas: Kelli, CeCe, Anita, Mara, Monica, Nina, and Kim.
Thank you Nina, Jenn, Shannon, and everyone at Social Butterfly PR.
Thank you Melissa,
Gel,
my fabulous audio publisher,
and my fabulous foreign publishers.
Special thanks to Sara at Okay Creations for the beautiful cover.
Thank you Julie for formatting,
to all of my bloggers for sharing and supporting my work—I value you more than words can say!
And readers—I’m truly blessed to have such an enthusiastic, cool crowd of people to share my books with. Thank you for the support.
Xo,
Katy
ABOUT
New York Times, USA Today, and Wall Street Journal bestselling author Katy Evans is the author of the Manwhore, Real, and White House series. She lives with her husband, two kids, and their beloved dogs. To find out more about her and her books, visit her pages. She’d love to hear from you.
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www.katyevans.net
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