Will & Patrick Wake Up Married

An Original Publication From Leta Blake
 

Will & Patrick Wake Up Married
Written and published by Leta Blake
Cover by
Dar Albert
Formatted by
Frostbite Publishing
Copyright © 2015 by Leta Blake
All rights reserved.
 

This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, and locations are either a product of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious setting. Any resemblance to actual events, locations, organizations, or people, living or dead, is strictly coincidental. No part of this book may be used or reproduced without written consent from the author. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

First Digital Edition, 2015
ISBN: 978-1-6262274-4-6

Other Books by Leta Blake

The River Leith

Smoky Mountain Dreams

The Training Season Series

Training Season

Training Complex

Co-Authored with Indra Vaughn

Vespertine

Gay Fairy Tales

Co-Authored with Keira Andrews

Flight

Levity

Rise

Free Read

Stalking Dreams

Discover more about the authors online:

Leta Blake

Alice Griffiths
 

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Acknowledgements

The authors would like to express their gratitude and appreciation for Vanessa North for her input and advice, and Keira Andrews for speedy-yet-thorough editing. Thank you to Jenn for the diabetes information. Leta would like to thank her friends and family for their endless support. Alice would like to thank Leta for being a wonderful and giving writing partner and for all the laughs. Leta would like to thank Alice for the same. It’s been a blast!

Dedications

This trope-based serial goes out to the Girls Who Cried Havoc and their beautiful ilk in celebration of the community playpen in which we joyfully cut our teeth and exercised our creativity.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

From the Author

About the Author

Also By

About This Book
 

Join the fun in this vibrant first installment of the new romantic comedy serial by best-selling author Leta Blake and newcomer Alice Griffiths!

After a drunken night of hot sex in Vegas, strangers Will Patterson and Dr. Patrick McCloud wake up married. A quickie divorce is the most obvious way out—unless you’re the heir of a staunchly Catholic mafia boss with a draconian position on the sanctity of marriage.

Stuck between a rock and a hard place, Will and Patrick don't like it, or each other, but they have to make the best of it until they can find another way out of their marriage. To ensure the trust fund Will's charitable foundation relies on isn't revoked by his mobster grandfather, he and Patrick travel to Will’s hometown of Healing, South Dakota, posing as a newlywed couple in the throes of true love at first sight.

Complicating their scheme are Will’s unresolved feelings for his all-too-recent ex-boyfriend Ryan, and Patrick’s desire to get back to the only thing that really matters to him in life: neurosurgery. Will they fool everyone? Or will the mafia get wind that their marriage is a fake? Throw their simmering attraction into the mix and all bets are off!

Episode 1 of 6 in the Wake Up Married Serial.
 

Chapter One
 

Will squints against the bright light streaming in through the open curtains. His head is pounding and his mouth tastes of liquor and come. It’s hard to breathe. The panic is the same every time Ryan breaks it off, but this time feels different. More final. And Will still can’t breathe. This
cannot be happening. This
can’t
be happening. The mantra plays on a loop in his head.

“If it can’t be happening, it’s not. So could you shut up?” mumbles the heavy weight against Will’s chest.

Will looks down. Lying there, drooling onto Will’s pecs, is a man, perhaps thirty-five or so, with short auburn hair that curls. A man with long wiry muscles, and trim shoulders and hips.

A man he definitely does not know.

And he’s naked. They’re both naked. Together.

Will jerks up, dislodging him. “What the hell…?”

The guy groans and flops over onto his back, shielding his eyes with his hand.

Will looks around frantically. White sheets, curtains, a hotel room. He remembers Las Vegas, a medical conference he’s attending to woo doctors to Healing’s brand-spanking newly renovated hospital, the sound of coins rattling out of slot machines, a phone call from Ryan, and a hotel bar with a lot of very appealing liquor.

This cannot be happening.

The man lifts up on his elbows, rakes his eyes over Will’s nakedness appreciatively, and smirks.

“Who are you? How did you get in here?” Will yanks the sheet up to his neck.

The man rolls his eyes, and when he speaks his voice is a low-pitched purr that sends shivers up Will’s spine. “This is my hotel room. I think you should be asking yourself how did
you
get in
here
?”

“I—I don’t—I don’t remember,” Will says, swallowing hard. He scoots as far away from the man as possible. His ass twinges, making him catch his breath.

He stares at the stranger next to him. The stranger stares right back without shame or any apparent concern to find himself here post-coitus with Will. No, he can’t have done this. He would never.

“Did you—did you roofie me?” Will asks.

“Are you asking if I
raped
you?” The man looks as violated as Will feels. “Uh, no. I don’t need to chemically incapacitate someone to get laid. I can assure you, Mr. Whoever-the-Hell-You-Are, that this was completely consensual.” He frowns and adds, “Drunkenly consensual. On both sides. We were both plenty blasted.”

Will isn’t sure if he believes him, but he’s too woozy to think about it properly. He needs to check his blood sugar, and he needs a do-over button to push immediately. God, did they even use condoms? Given how his body aches this morning, he’s obviously had a lot of sex with this guy, and he doesn’t even know if they’ve been safe. Panic and nausea swell inside until he’s sure he’s going to spew.

“Could you see if there’s any water?” Will asks, nodding toward the minibar. “And could you find my clothes?”

The guy snaps, “I think I serviced you enough last night. Get them yourself.”

A memory flashes through Will’s throbbing head of being fucked as he clawed at the sheets. His neck and cheeks heat, and he rubs his hand over his face, trying to wipe it all away.

“I’m sort of naked under here, and my pants are on the other side of the room. Yours are right there.” Will points at them, and the movement makes the room spin. He’s definitely going to be sick.

The guy stares at him with really intense blue eyes. Will hears the unspoken thought radiating loud and clear:
A little late for modesty, isn’t it?

But after a moment, the man shrugs, throws the sheet off and walks naked to the fridge. Will flushes, looking away, but glances back when the man bends over. His small ass is perfectly formed, and his balls swing low between his thighs. Blue-black dots swirl in Will’s vision.

The guy tosses a bottle of water at Will before cracking open one of his own to take a long drink. And then he just stands there. Completely naked.

Will opens his bottle and lets the cold water soothe his parched throat. He averts his gaze, focusing on the very white bedclothes, but his eyes keep straying back to the guy’s chest, abs, and the bush of sandy-auburn pubic hair around his…

Oh God, this
cannot
be happening.

More dots crowd his vision.

“Not that I really care, but I’m trying to remember what the hell happened last night. So what’s your name?” the guy asks.

Will stares at him dumbly. He can’t shake the idea that this hasn’t happened—that he’s not naked in this bed with this man staring at him. But he is. He just keeps on being here. It just doesn’t stop. He wants to be home in his apartment with Ryan.

And oh God, Ryan will never forgive him for this. Not even if Will can convince him that breaking up was a mistake. No, if this is real, and he’s actually slept with this stranger, Ryan will never take him back now.

“Seriously. Do you have a name?” the guy asks with so much impatience that Will flicks him an angry glance, but then looks away fast because he’s still standing there naked with absolutely no shame.

Will focuses on the water bottle and takes another drink. “Will Patterson.” He hesitates, but he probably should know too. If waking up without knowing the guy’s name is bad, not asking now has got to be even worse. Blood rushing in his ears, he asks, “What’s yours?”