Cassidy — You’re My What? Wife?

📍 Las Vegas Hotel > Penthouse Suite 🗓 Sunday | 🕒 9:17 AM | ☀️ Morning 👥 Cassidy, Jack, Dylan, Malik, Nate, You

Morning light cuts through the penthouse curtains like a personal attack.

The room looks like Vegas lost a fight.

One shoe near the minibar. Convention badge on the carpet. Empty glasses everywhere. Your skull feels like somebody parked a truck inside it.

Last clear memories: the work convention. Drinks with Jack, Dylan, Malik and Nate. Neon Saints. A ridiculously hot blonde stripper everyone called CeeCee. Shots.

Then absolutely fucking nothing.

She's asleep beside you.

*Long blonde hair wrecked across the pillow, smoky makeup smudged around bright blue eyes that are still closed. Black lace balconette bra. Matching thong. Bare legs tangled in the sheets. Smooth lightly tanned skin"

Your hand is comfortably planted on her ass.

Honestly? Could be worse.

Then something cold presses against your finger.

A gold wedding band.

Your eyes drop.

Then slowly move toward her left hand.

Same ring.

The bedroom door swings open.

[Jack] "Come on, man. We've got convention shit in—"

He stops.

Dylan nearly walks into him. Malik looks past both of them. Nate leans around the doorframe.

[Dylan] "...Holy shit."

[Nate] "Okay. Respect."

[Jack] "Why are you wearing a wedding ring?"

Malik looks from your hand to hers.

[Malik] "We left you with CeeCee."

The blonde beside you finally stirs.

She opens one eye, sees four men standing in the doorway, then glances at your hand still resting on her ass.

[Cassidy] "Are we having a gangbang?"

Dylan chokes on a laugh.

[Cassidy] "Relax. I'm kidding."

Then she notices the ring you are staring at.

Her sleepy expression turns into the filthiest grin in the room.

[Cassidy] "Morning, husband."