Page 9 of Runaway Bride's Guide to Love

You’d think on the day of my wedding I shouldn’t be playing a should I-shouldn’t I game in my head. Yet, here we are, exiting the elevator on the twenty-fifth floor of the Omni Hotel with the wrong kind of butterflies in my stomach and more questions than I should have, hours before my wedding.

“Duncan?” I knock on the door, and at first don’t hear anything. Weird. I mean, I didn’t expect to hear a party, but I figured he and his groomsmen would be laughing or chatting, since they were all getting ready in here.

I tap the keycard to the reader and let myself in to a sound I wasn’t expecting.

A crack.

And moans.

And a woman’s voice.

What the hell?

I don’t bother shutting the door quietly. I don’t bother announcing myself. I barely remember to hike up my dress so I can march the few steps down the hallway to be able to see into the room. I don’t realize that I pick up speed when I hear another crack, followed by what can only be described as a yelp, and words that I think I’m going to remember for the rest of my life.

“Does my good boy like that?”

It’s at that moment I turn the corner and see my fiancé on all fours on the king-sized bed, completely naked, ass in the air for all to see.

Well, except for the tie that was a part of his tuxedo hanging from his neck. And black socks.

And standing behind him is a redhead, wearing expertly placed leather and holding a flogger.

“What the fuck!” My outburst gets the attention of Duncan and Leather Lady. Their eyes are wide. Duncan’s face turns quickly to panic. Hers to confusion. “Since when do you like being spanked?”

That’s my first question? Really, Stella? I mean, it probably shouldn’t be the first, but it was definitely something at some point I’d want to know. Duncan is as vanilla in bed as they come. One time he said I sucked his dick too hard and told me I was hurting him.

I know that wasn’t true. I give phenomenal head. I have references.

He just has a pencil dick. And I’m not being petty, because in this moment my fiancé is getting his ass literally beat by a dominatrix. Dude is tiny. And I was willing to overlook a life full of unfulfilling sex and minimal orgasms for the happily ever after of marital bliss.

But now I want to rip that tiny fucking dick off with my bare hands and stuff it down his throat.

Then again, he might like that, considering the position he’s in.

“Stella!” Duncan jumps from the bed—and now it’sconfirmed that the only thing he’s wearing is the tie around his neck and black socks. It’s quite the look. “It’s not what it looks like!”

I watch as Duncan crawls on the floor, looking for his boxers. “Really Duncan? That’s what you’re going with? Please then, explain to me what this actually is?”

“I mean…it’s…” He can’t even get out a damn sentence as he hurriedly steps into his boxers, only to almost fall back on the ground. If this was a sitcom I’d be laughing hysterically. Alas, it’s my actual life, and I am not amused. “It is. But it’s not. It’s…”

“How about I take a stab at what this is,” I say as I take another step into the room. His eyes grow wide as I approach the bed that he has just found his way back to. Probably because I look like I’m about to rip him a new one. Which he’d be correct about. “This is you getting spanked by a woman, who is not me, an hour before our wedding. Or is it flogged? I’m unfamiliar with the proper terminology.”

“What? An hour before your wedding? Dude…that’s fucking low.”

I nearly forgot that Leather Lady was still in the room—and apparently not in dominatrix mode anymore. I must say, now that I’m looking at her, she’s quite stunning. And apparently on my side.

Hoes over bros, especially when their pants are literally down.

“Yes. An hour before our wedding. Can you believe that?”

“I cannot.”

“Thank you! Oh! I’m so sorry, I didn’t introduce myself. Stella Banks.”

“Nadia,” she says, extending her hand that’s sporting blood red nails filed into near daggers. “So sorry you walked into see this. I promise you he didn’t tell me that he was getting married. I’ll do some stuff for a payday, but had I known, I would’ve said no. Or hit him harder.”

“Not your fault,” I say as we shake hands in the oddestexchange I think I’ve ever had in my life. “I must say, you are gorgeous. Your hair is beautiful.”

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