'Wanted' By Mr. Storm

RIVER'S POV,

LAS VEGAS, 7:54 PM.

"River, drop that. Fuck it, I don't know how I ended up here...with her. I really don't know what got into me, I swear to God!"

"Ms. River, you shouldn't be holding that."

I couldn't stop the tears falling down my cheeks as I held the gun to my fiance in a hotel room. Two days from now was supposed to be our wedding, where we would promise ourselves forever. But here he was, with my best friend, Natasha.

My fingers trembled on the trigger as Peter began inching forward, still kneeling on the bed, with Natasha hiding under the coverlet. The hotel room door was open, and there were judging gazes. Everyone urged me to put the gun down, but they would have done worse in this scenario. Right now, I felt numb; going to prison wasn't even one of my fears now.

"River, he's not worth it...give that to me." Helen, who had just walked in, pulled the gun out of my hand with ease, hurling it hard against Peter's face. A sharp cry tore from his throat. She threw one last look of disgust at Tasha, who peeped through the coverlet, before pulling me out with her—past the crowd lined up in front of the hotel room.

I felt empty. The more Helen pulled me, the harder it got to breathe and take everything in. I had just caught the man I loved in bed with my friend.

"They aren't worth it...that bitch-faced snake...how dare she?" Natasha. Helen and I were trios; our bond was beyond what friends would share. We were more like sisters...and this was how she repaid our friendship on my bachelorette night?

Helen pulled the sash off me as I stood in front of the car door, staring into space like a mannequin. The tears falling nonstop from my eyes were the only moving thing.

"This wedding isn't fucking taking place..." She stamped hard on the sash until it twisted around her heels. I knew how hard she was trying to keep her composure while I fought so hard to find mine.

"Get in! You better get rid of that face." She pulled the door open, helping me in as she slammed it shut. I could hear her heels hitting hard on the floor before she got into the driver's seat.

"Cry all you want now. This bachelorette night still continues..." She pulled hard on the gear, the car engine roaring to life. "It's just me and you now...no more assholes. Give me the tickets."

The car screeched to a halt in front of Velluto, the club Peter and I had saved up for and were supposed to go to tonight after the bachelorette party. The neon lights and the buzz from the music pouring from the club worked magic in my veins. And now, I was the one pushing the car door open.

Helen handed me the other ticket—the one that was supposed to be Peter's—as we made our way into one of the most exclusive clubs in Vegas. Peter and I had spent thousands of dollars on these tickets, only for the motherfucker to fuck it all up. I was good without Peter, and I would be good without him.

I handed my ticket to the bouncer. "You can go to the dance floor while I let off some steam at the bar," I whispered into Helen's ear, giving her a reassuring look and not waiting for a reply as I headed for the bar.

"A bottle of your strongest alcohol, please..." I leaned on the counter, staring at the handsome waiter who threw me a flirty smile before passing a bottle to me.

"His loss..." He popped the bottle open, helping pour the alcohol into a glass of ice cubes.

I sat on the bar stool, one glass down, and it felt like I was drinking courage. The music pulsated loudly as the room began to spin wildly with the second glass.

In the next minute, I was throwing my arms up, whining against the bar stool as the bar attendant cheered me up. That's when I saw him—sin in a black tux—seated with a group of men in a private corner. Their aura gave off that of businessmen. Blue eyes locked with mine, and my soul threatened to leave my body that instant—until he pulled his gaze away slowly without looking back, like he hadn't just stirred something in me with that fuck-me-'til-dawn look.

I dropped the glass with a bang, getting off the stool and making my way hazily toward Mr. Sin in a Tux. I stepped out of my heels on the way there when it felt like a chore to walk properly in them. The laughter from around him seemed to irk him; he reminded me of the story of the lone wolf.

"Who stares at a lady like that and looks away in that instant?" I took the glass of whiskey from my 'dare' for tonight. The laughter and chats around the table died slowly, and I never cared to look back, eyes only on what I came here for.

His brow arched slightly before his eyes came to rest on mine. "What kind of prayer did your mother pray to God for you to look like this?" The boldness I got from the alcohol staggered at his intimidating look.

"How much for a night?" I threw my hand around his neck, straddling his thighs without warning.

"Get off me..."

Fuck! That deep baritone voice of his that sounded like a rumble was going to throw me into an orgasm.

"And if I don't..." I brought my lips closer to his, eyes daring—which man in their right senses would refuse a free meal? I didn't fucking care if he was married; a bitch had stolen mine too.

His grip was suddenly on my waist. I had expected him to pull me close; he had done the less expected by trying to pull me away. Just before he could, I had sensed that—wrapping my hand tightly around his neck like a koala making it hard for him to go so. I wanted him to snap, but not in this way—in a way that he would say fuck it and put me on this table, ramming into me senseless.

He was too controlled for a man with a woman in his lap. His scent had me screaming in pure bliss to the heavens. I grew even more daring, grinding slightly into his lap, and I gasped with a smile when he caught my neck, pulling our faces even closer.

"I can't fuck you."

"That hurts..." I whispered, breathless, my eyes falling on his lips, wanting the naughty 'F' word from him again. "Even when I can pay you off?" He might look rich, a dollar could add up to his wealth "Not even when I tell you that my hymen is untouched..."

He released a mocking chuckle. "Go find another man to fuck. I have erectile dysfunction." He thinks lies would help him get away from me.

"If I get you hard, I get to have you for tonight with no more excuses." My hand got between us, and his gaze hardened, danger written on his forehead, but I was past caring.

"Don't stop me." His other hand had caught my wrist, brushing my pulse slightly. "Stop whatever you are doing now. You are pulling shit in front of my business partners," he warned between gritted sets of teeth which reflected back my future—white and shiny.

I bit on his bottom lip slightly, and his hold on my wrist loosened, but not the one on my neck—which I loved. I trailed slight touches down his chest until I got to his crotch, and I flashed him a knowing look. Liar.

But why did he seem surprised, his eyes coming down to look between us as I unzipped his pants, pushing my hand in—and I felt him, rigid, meaty, and pulsing in my hand. "Th...that's impossible."

Why was he acting up like this was his first time getting touched by a woman? Like something snapped within him, his hand on my neck moved to the back of my head, his lips parted and hovering over mine, his face holding a lot of questions that no one could answer and before I could make another word to tease him.

His lips slammed harshly against mine. It was raw, savage, and gave me no chance to kiss back or take in what had just happened. He'd played hard to get all this while, just for him to show this beastly side of him now. All men are the same. I only needed this one's dick to forget about Peter.

But when he pulled away, it felt like he pulled my soul away too. "You started this," He growled, the lust in his eyes scaring me to death "you can't back out now, Ma Provocatrice."

I should have backed out if I knew there was more to those words—that he would possess me in every way, or that the next day he would be my new boss...Marcel Storm.