Then Comes Marriage (A Reverse Harem Inspired Romance) by Jade C. Jamison

Author:Jade C. Jamison [Jamison, Jade C.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Jade C. Jamison

Chapter 7

WE WERE TAKING a road trip to Las Vegas. The producers were cool enough to spring for a convertible, so that was pleasant. I’d already pulled my hair up, trying to look as sexy as possible in a fun, flowery sundress with sandals, per my date’s request. Once we were out of the city baking in the sun along the highway, Thomas pulled his stiff cock out of his pants and grabbed my hand. With both mine and his, he pumped against his shaft, guiding my finger to pick up his pre-cum to make things glide better. But then he lifted up my hand and spat in the palm before helping me jack him off again.

Yeah—I was pretty fucking sure Thomas was the sex addict. Gabe seemed to have nothing on this guy.

After he came, he fell asleep, and I was grateful for that. But when he awoke, he kept trying to finger me. Our cameraman in the passenger seat had drifted off and our driver wasn’t looking in the rearview mirror, so I was relieved that we weren’t putting on a show for him, but there were tiny cameras attached to the back of the driver and passenger side seats continuing to film us, and I didn’t know how much they’d capture—if it would just be our faces or if Thomas was filming an indie porno as we drove to Vegas.

I finally slapped his hand. “Absolutely not.” And then I asked the driver to crank the music.

We didn’t arrive in Vegas until a little after three PM, and the camera guy said we’d have to leave at five to be back to the mansion in time. So much for a fun date. And we needed to find a restaurant first, because it would be our only meal.

I had no idea why Thomas had wanted to come here of all places—and, at this point, I wasn’t about to ask. We wound up eating at a P.F. Chang’s before hitting the Strip. I’d only ever been to Vegas once for a bachelorette party for an actress I was kind of friends with. She paid for the plane tickets and the hotel room for twenty of us—but, since her wedding, I hadn’t heard from her. She married a rich guy, a plastic surgeon, if I recalled correctly, so maybe she wasn’t interested in acting anymore. That wasn’t going to be me. I wanted to act. The money would be nice, but more than that I wanted the roles. I wanted to be someone else for a few hours and wow my audience.

But there was more to the meal than just the food. At one point, Thomas got down on his knee with a box in his hand. “This isn’t for real, but I have to do this for the show. I’m supposed to practice proposing.” Well, explaining it all took all the fun out of it. “Claire Seaburg, can I have your hand in marriage?”

What was I supposed to say? I giggled a little, and not because I was excited.

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