Becoming Mrs. Lockwood

By: K.I. Lynn

“I’m fairly confident I wouldn’t need to dip you in wax to accomplish that.”

“So sure of yourself?” I tried to sound confident, but my voice wavered. Yeah, I’d probably let him do anything to me. Virgin or not. What I lacked in experience, he was helping me make up in desire.

“Yes. Now, I want to check out some creepy, realistic looking bits of wax.” He slid his fingers around my hand and pulled us out the door and across the street.

I was going to have some stories to tell my best friend when I got home.

Weston paid for the tickets, and while he was doing that I sent a text to my mom, which included an on-the-sly picture of Weston.

Met a tourist buddy and we’re checking out the museum across the street.

It took less time to peel her vision away from the spinning wheels than I thought.

Have fun! Don’t get in too much trouble. Keep me updated. xo

I think she was happy not to have to entertain me, and was all for it, even though I’d told her I was going out with a stranger. At least I sent her a photo in case I went missing. My mom wasn’t irresponsible or anything, otherwise I wouldn’t have made it as long as I had, but she did have an open mind. Plus, she knew I was smart, and at the first sign of trouble she knew my ass would be running and screaming bloody murder.

“Ready?” he asked, his hand outstretched.

The sight of him like that basically told me that I had nothing to worry about. He looked excited, happy to have an adventurer at his side as excited to see the sights as he was.

The wax museum was a trip. We moved through each room, looking at some of the biggest stars in my lifetime and before. Weston kept saying how so-and-so didn’t really look that good without her makeup, or how another actress we’d stopped to admire was a bitch, or how an actor that I ogled was a poser. He seemed to speak from experience, though, not as a hater.

“Where do you get all this knowledge? Or are you just spiteful?”

His head tipped back in laughter. “It’s experience. I live in L.A. and I’ve met a lot of them.”

Once we’d left the wax museum, we decided to grab a quick bite to eat and figure out where we wanted to go next.

An hour later, I was gawking out of the taxi window as we made our way down the strip to the Shark Reef at Mandalay Bay.

“Oooh, the High Roller!” I pointed, my arm stretching in front of Weston as I leaned into him.

“I bet the view is best at night when the strip is lit up,” he said, his breath blowing against my neck.

I turned my head up to look at him and noticed just how close we were. How close his lips were to mine. There was a shift, the mood getting heavier than the lightness of the day.

My lips pulled up into a smile as I sat back in my seat, suddenly very conscious of the beautiful man next to me whose thumb was making light circles against my own.

The aquarium was fun, watching the sea life swim all around us. Next on our tour was the Luxor; we stopped not only to see the inside of the pyramid, but to also hit the artifact tour.

He held my hand in his the entire time. When I shivered from the cold of the air conditioning, he pulled me to him and wrapped his arm around my shoulder. I didn’t know what to think about his actions, but I liked it. It felt . . . natural. It was as if we’d known each other for years, instead of being two complete strangers who’d only met twice.

I even overheard people talking about us, saying how cute we looked together. Some called us newlyweds, others were jealous that I was wrapped up in him. I smiled, because for one day, I felt special, loved, and taken care of. It was a day lived in a fantasy land where princes really did exist.

We continued down the strip to New York New York and boarded the Manhattan Express. I wrapped my arm around his as the roller coaster climbed the hill, clicking and clacking as we moved, our anticipation rising.

Screams erupted from both of us as we crested the hill and dropped back to the earth. With each twist and turn, my grip tightened and I was frozen, glued to him, as we pulled back into the hotel.

We took it easy after that, both of us a bit queasy after riding. Walking down to the Bellagio, more people whispered about us and pointed, but I dismissed it. We stood in front of the fountains, listening to the music and watching the water dance in time.

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