Score Her Heart: A Marriage of Convenience Hockey Romance (Philadelphia Bulldogs Book 2) by Danica Flynn (best mystery novels of all time .txt) 📗

“Come on, Wifey, let’s go party,” I whispered into her ear. That earned me a glare, but she couldn’t hide the smile behind her emerald eyes.

Chapter Three

FIONA

I woke to what felt like a sledgehammer against my skull, and my mouth was as dry as the Sahara. The room was spinning, and I was sure I needed to go throw up all the whiskey I drank last night. Why did I decide to drink so much damn whiskey?

I shifted in the bed, fighting off the spins, and realized I couldn’t move. I was pinned down by a large forearm wrapped around my waist. I looked down at the familiar red and gold phoenix tattoo and then realized I was naked under the covers.

SHIT.

I laid there for a minute, blinking up at the ceiling in confusion. When I saw my wedding gown hanging up in the open closet, all the memories of last night came back to me in a drunken flash. The reception had been a drunken good time, and Riley hadn’t been able to keep his hands off me. Not like groping my tits in front of everyone, but when we danced together, he held me close, his big hands dangerously close to my ass. During dinner, his hand had stayed clasped onto my thigh in a possessive yet protective manner that made me feel safe. Then we kept on drinking and drinking until we were kissing hungrily, and we finally left the party to fulfill our duties of consummating our marriage.

Which we did. Multiple times.

He had been careful to help me out of my dress and even hung it up for me before he worshipped my body for hours. That wasn’t an exaggeration; he spent a good deal of the night with his head between my legs, giving me pleasure like I had never felt before. I had returned the favor, very eagerly, and when it came time for the final act, he was kind and gentle and let me be in charge. And then we did it again with him on top, and then a third time before he finally got aggressive with me and bent me over the bed until we were both spent. Still drunk, I vaguely remembered us passing out on the bed naked but clutching each other.

Holy fuck, I was married to Riley, and we had so much sex last night. Like more than I’d had with my fiancé in the last three months. Which was, unfortunately, the last time I had sex with the man I had been with for half a decade and was supposed to get married to. This was so fucked.

The need to vomit brought me back to reality. Luckily, Riley had moved to his back, so I was able to slink out of the bed and rush to the bathroom, where I emptied pretty much all the contents of my stomach. A shadow came across the wall, and I felt a warm hand at my back, rubbing it in comforting circles. Another hand pulled back my long red hair so I didn’t get sick all over it. It was sweet, but a little too late for that. I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, the silver band of my wedding ring gleaming in the light as if taunting me.

I stood up to turn to Riley. We were both still naked, and my eyes couldn’t stop staring at the hard lines of his chest. I dipped my gaze down past his pectorals to the insanely ripped six-pack he had going on. I knew hockey players were pretty fit, but fuck, my best friend was all hard muscle and strength. He was such a man now, and last night he had treated me like he was mine and I was his. In the light of the day and with my head pounding, I wasn’t sure if that was what I wanted.

“Sweetheart,” he whispered to me quietly, and I felt something soft and warm come over my body at his tender voice calling me that. One finger lifted my chin up to look at him. “You okay?”

I nodded but looked down, which was actually a bad idea because I was looking right at the thing that I had begged to have inside me last night. I shook my head, went over to the sink, and gargled some mouthwash.

Riley stood in the doorway of the bathroom, leaning against the frame, watching me.

“What?” I snapped.

“You sure you’re okay?” he asked.

“I’m very hungover. Can you please fuck off?”

He smirked. “Come back to bed, feisty.”

I shook my head and waved him away. “I want to take a shower.”

He nodded, but instead of leaving like a normal fucking person, Riley shut the bathroom door behind him. I watched him get into the shower stall and turn the faucet on. I stared at him through the glass door, watching the water droplets running down his muscular back. I continued to stare, unable to believe what my life had turned into.

I married my best friend.

My fiancé left me at the altar, and I married my best friend instead.

And had really hot married sex with him. Like so good, I can’t remember the last time a man made me feel that fucking good during sex. A man who was patient and let me have multiple orgasms before coming himself. A man who ate me out with so much vigor and who made little noises of enjoyment while he did it. As if he actually liked to be down there doing that!

“You coming in?” he asked over the running water.

Oh, right. I wanted to take a shower because I was majorly hungover and felt like death.

But showering with Riley right now? I mean, sure, we had fucked all over this suite last night, but taking a shower together felt so intimate. Still, he technically was my husband, so