Married To Mr. Serial Killer{#thewattys2018}(BWWM)(Story #1 Completed)

★Drunken Matrimony Pt. 2

***Rewritten Version***

I paced the floor of the jail cell back and forth. My heart thundered in my chest, head was pounding, fist balled. That's how angry I was. I swear I was gonna kill 'em if the waitress hadn't called the cops. He crossed a line. I was able to put up with the other shit, but this... I married Jericho James while under the influence! Inside the white envelope was a very legal marriage document! We both signed it! What kind of man marries a fucking drunk girl?! I laughed, mirthlessly.

"Mona Simmons, you're free to go," the female officer barked. "Apparently, your victim didn't press charges," she teased. I hauled ass out of the police station not wanting to stay another second. It was two in the afternoon. I spent two hours in jail.

"It took some time to clear things up," Jericho said. He was waiting for me near his BMW. I walked right pass him headed straight for the bus stop. Ironic, huh? "Mona, please," he pleaded, running after me.

I stopped, bristling. His hand clamped around my arm and he pulled me back to him. Sexy full lips latched onto mine. He kissed me hard into oblivion. There was no mistaking the apology in the kiss. My hands went straight for his hair pulling, hard. He groaned into my mouth as his hands smoothed over my ass and squeezed. I bit his lip and sucked on it, drawing into my mouth. I teased it with my tongue.

"I'm so sorry you got locked up," he said as lips moved to my throat. I felt his tongue there, exploring. I shivered and moaned imagining it on other places. That tongue was going to be the death of me. He stopped and held me at arm's length, looking very serious. "I bet you want a divorce."

I laughed without humor. "Drunken matrimony, Jericho, seriously?! You could have at least given me the opportunity to marry you while sober! Jeez I would love to have been able to recall MY WEDDING DAY!!!" He stared down at me with an impassive expression, folding arms over his massive chest.

He shrugged. "I said I was sorry." He looked away for a moment, rubbing a hand down his forearm. Expensive silver cufflinks flashed brilliantly within the sunlight. "I uh think we could work things out..." I gazed at him for the longest moment. He was definitely serious about this.

I rubbed my temples and closed my eyes. "Take me home, Jericho." He stepped closer, invading my personal space.

"I'll make it up to you." His voice went deeper and silkier. He grabbed my hand and left a kiss on the inside of my wrist. I felt an electrical charge shoot up my arm. Okay now, this was becoming irritating. There was that look: heated, primal, and sexual.

I sauntered pass him towards his BMW, trying to brush off what that look was really doing to me. "Take me home. Now," I demanded. When I got back to my apartment I received a phone call from Mackayla. Gigi was in the hospital.