Read Online Reunion Girls by J. J. Salem - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: J. J. Salem
Tags: Romance, Literature & Fiction, Contemporary, Contemporary Fiction, Contemporary Women, Women's Fiction
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bathroom.
But in a quirky switcheroo, Dean Paul had pursued her. Aspen's innocent arrogance captivated him. She didn't think the Lockhart name was such a big deal. So he was the son of a boring old senator and a movie star mother nobody could remember. Woop-dee-do. In fact, Aspen, basking in the afterglow of nanosecond reality fame, actually believed that she was more famous. God, that was cute. And refreshing enough to hold his interest.
Weeks had turned to months. No fights, no hassles. Just great sex, big laughs, and nonstop fun. They became inseparable. The idea to get married had been a joke at first. But it stuck. And hell, it was serious now. She was Mrs. Dean Paul Lockhart. He actually had a wife.
Aspen was right about one thing, though. His mother didn't like her. She's not substantial. That's all Sophia Mills would say. But she rarely liked any woman he got serious about... except Lara. Everybody in his family approved of her.
Dean Paul lay there, exhausted but unable to sleep, thinking what a trip it had been to finally get hitched with his three most significant exes watching. The feelings it conjured up were tough to reconcile. But he made sense of them. At the end of the day, he knew why each woman was on the guest list and not the name after his on the invitation.
Lara seemed like a perfect match on paper: smart, beautiful, Ivy League-educated, prestigious family background. The thought that she would be the one he might marry had never left his mind. But deep down, there had always been that something . . . that something which made it easy for him to break up and stay away from her for all these years. It was difficult to pinpoint. But basically, she was too . . . perfect. Too intelligent. Too gorgeous. Too successful. Too organized. Jesus. She was the only woman he'd ever been involved with who made him feel like a knucklehead.
As for Babe, she simply wasn't the marrying kind, at least not for him. A girl from a broken home who hated rich people? No, thanks. When it came down to bringing baggage into a relationship, Dean Paul only allowed two small carry-on items. If you had more than that, find another schmuck. That was his motto. Besides, sex with Babe had been too dirty for her to morph into the role of devoted wife. The things she did to him. The things he did to her. It brought a smile to his face even now. In fact, he felt the beginning of an erection coming on just thinking about it.
Aspen continued to snore.
Dean Paul tried to focus on nonsexual things to stave off any further arousal. He wasn't above a quick round of masturbation, involving, say, a Blake Lively fantasy, but not on his wedding night. That would be too pathetic.
A vision of Gabrielle in that hip-hop Barbarella outfit flashed into his mind. Great. Suddenly, he started to laugh as he imagined the look on his mother's face after she got an eyeful of Gabrielle, or rather . . .
Brown Sugar. It had been classic Sophia Mills disapproval. Nothing tickled him more.
Gabrielle's transformation from good girl to bad girl still puzzled him, especially the bit about growing up in the Detroit ghetto. Dean Paul's parents had shipped him off for a week of missionary work every summer. He knew more about the poor than Gabrielle. But who could argue? She was taking her act straight to the bank. Still, very little about her resembled the woman he'd known at Brown. Back then, all that hard-core sass had been soft-core sweetness. The way she used to look into his eyes frightened him sometimes. There had been so much reverence in her gaze. Whatever she thought he was, Dean Paul had known he could never quite live up to it. That made it easy to leave her.
He felt his eyelids begin to grow heavy. By now, Aspen's snoring had become a soothing white noise. Sleep was closing in. If the tabloids ever got the tip that Dean Paul Lockhart did not get lucky on his wedding night, they would never print the story. Too unbelievable. He grinned. Then he
But in a quirky switcheroo, Dean Paul had pursued her. Aspen's innocent arrogance captivated him. She didn't think the Lockhart name was such a big deal. So he was the son of a boring old senator and a movie star mother nobody could remember. Woop-dee-do. In fact, Aspen, basking in the afterglow of nanosecond reality fame, actually believed that she was more famous. God, that was cute. And refreshing enough to hold his interest.
Weeks had turned to months. No fights, no hassles. Just great sex, big laughs, and nonstop fun. They became inseparable. The idea to get married had been a joke at first. But it stuck. And hell, it was serious now. She was Mrs. Dean Paul Lockhart. He actually had a wife.
Aspen was right about one thing, though. His mother didn't like her. She's not substantial. That's all Sophia Mills would say. But she rarely liked any woman he got serious about... except Lara. Everybody in his family approved of her.
Dean Paul lay there, exhausted but unable to sleep, thinking what a trip it had been to finally get hitched with his three most significant exes watching. The feelings it conjured up were tough to reconcile. But he made sense of them. At the end of the day, he knew why each woman was on the guest list and not the name after his on the invitation.
Lara seemed like a perfect match on paper: smart, beautiful, Ivy League-educated, prestigious family background. The thought that she would be the one he might marry had never left his mind. But deep down, there had always been that something . . . that something which made it easy for him to break up and stay away from her for all these years. It was difficult to pinpoint. But basically, she was too . . . perfect. Too intelligent. Too gorgeous. Too successful. Too organized. Jesus. She was the only woman he'd ever been involved with who made him feel like a knucklehead.
As for Babe, she simply wasn't the marrying kind, at least not for him. A girl from a broken home who hated rich people? No, thanks. When it came down to bringing baggage into a relationship, Dean Paul only allowed two small carry-on items. If you had more than that, find another schmuck. That was his motto. Besides, sex with Babe had been too dirty for her to morph into the role of devoted wife. The things she did to him. The things he did to her. It brought a smile to his face even now. In fact, he felt the beginning of an erection coming on just thinking about it.
Aspen continued to snore.
Dean Paul tried to focus on nonsexual things to stave off any further arousal. He wasn't above a quick round of masturbation, involving, say, a Blake Lively fantasy, but not on his wedding night. That would be too pathetic.
A vision of Gabrielle in that hip-hop Barbarella outfit flashed into his mind. Great. Suddenly, he started to laugh as he imagined the look on his mother's face after she got an eyeful of Gabrielle, or rather . . .
Brown Sugar. It had been classic Sophia Mills disapproval. Nothing tickled him more.
Gabrielle's transformation from good girl to bad girl still puzzled him, especially the bit about growing up in the Detroit ghetto. Dean Paul's parents had shipped him off for a week of missionary work every summer. He knew more about the poor than Gabrielle. But who could argue? She was taking her act straight to the bank. Still, very little about her resembled the woman he'd known at Brown. Back then, all that hard-core sass had been soft-core sweetness. The way she used to look into his eyes frightened him sometimes. There had been so much reverence in her gaze. Whatever she thought he was, Dean Paul had known he could never quite live up to it. That made it easy to leave her.
He felt his eyelids begin to grow heavy. By now, Aspen's snoring had become a soothing white noise. Sleep was closing in. If the tabloids ever got the tip that Dean Paul Lockhart did not get lucky on his wedding night, they would never print the story. Too unbelievable. He grinned. Then he
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