A little something that crossed my mind...Just a 2-shot with potential sequel. Please enjoy :)
What Starts In Vegas…
Part 1
Diana woke up with a hell of a headache. The blinds of the window hadn't been closed the previous night, letting an irate sunlight swamp the bedroom. Cursing under her breath, she buried herself deeper under the covers. Her temples were throbbing and for some reason her body arched in ways she hadn't felt before. She briefly wondered what kind of sickness she had caught to feel so out of sorts.
Something –or someone tugged at the covers –leaving her face to the mercy of the morning light again. Gritting her teeth in annoyance, she turned around, firmly decided to give a piece of her mind to whoever was annoying her –it had to be Shayera or Audrey, only they would be bold enough to tease her when was ill.
All hints of anger shifted into dreaded horror: a man she didn't know was sharing her bed. A complete stranger. A hot stranger she nuanced, as she took in the sharp angles of his face the dark tousled hair, the muscular shoulders and well defined abs. A stranger nonetheless. Sleeping in her bed in the nude –at least from the waist up, she wasn't about to check the bottom.
She suddenly realized she was equally undressed. And her thighs felt pretty sore…
What have I done? she wondered, panic slowly itching in her veins.
She forced herself to calm down, breathe in and out deeply. No need to hyperventilate, it would not arrange matters. What to do now? Details she hadn't taken in before slowly sank in; she didn't recognize the bedroom walls –clean but impersonal, a TV set and instructions on a nightstand –a hotel room. She was in a hotel room with a stranger. Clothes were scattered on the floor –and the furniture too. She recognized the red dress Audrey had bought her during a shopping spree, the black lace she had indulged in last month…and black slacks, a white shirt, a black vest…
Diana slowly glanced back at the man. He was deep asleep, laying on his side, deeply lost to dreamland. She delicately removed her covers and stepped on the floor. She picked her discarded dress and quietly headed to the bathroom. It wasn't until she closed the door behind that she allowed herself to breathe…only to gawk again.
The bathroom was huge, with the biggest shower and Jacuzzi she had ever seen and a brown and golden wall. A fancy bathroom, she thought, and after considering a while, remembered the softness of the sheets and the comfy bed. What kind of hotel was she in? Was the man rich enough to afford such a room? Though she was a college student, her side job allowed her to earn enough for a passably good living…but not that kind of living.
She stared at her body in the mirror. If she had any doubt left about what had occurred with the man, they had now evaporated. Her chest, stomach, upper thighs were covered with bite-marks. A glint caught her eyes and she stared at her left hand. Her ring finger proudly bore a…ring. Silver, ornate with five small diamonds, very expensive-looking. A wedding ring?
What the…?
Diana closed her eyes, exhaled through her mouth.
Think, she ordered herself. What do you remember?
Not much, was the immediate answer. After a little more intense mind-racking –that provoked an even more disagreeable headache, she did remember she had accompanied Audrey to Las Vegas. The blonde party-girl had wanted to go all out for the weekend and much to her surprise, she was the only guest because –'darling; you are my best friend and you need a distraction'.
Distraction. The word had echoed in her mind the whole evening. Distraction from- don't think about it, she chided herself and kicked the picture of a grinning blonde man out of her mind.
Diana stared back at the ring. She had broken her engagement four days ago. Now, she had apparently gotten hitched with a complete stranger. And had spent the night with him.
If Audrey or Shayera ever heard of that, they would never let her live it down.
She decided to shove her troubles aside for the time being and turned on the shower. The warm water fell on her shoulders like a cascade and in spite of the situation, Diana smiled at the relief it brought. She ran her hand over her arms, shoulders and body. The path they created brought back the feeling of a larger hand on her skin…
Nimble fingers unzipping the back…a tongue tracing the contours of her nipple…a heavy weight pinning her down…the stubble of an unshaven cheek against her inner thigh…the arch in her loins…the urge to cry out both in pain and pleasure as he filled-
Diana immediately turned the shower off, shivering at the last flashback. How could she have let a complete stranger go this far when she and Steve- Don't go there, she censured herself again. No need to think of her fiancé –ex-fiancé, she mentally corrected- right now. He was likely the reason why she had thrown herself into a stranger's arms. She dried herself, tied her wet hair in a high ponytail, knowing she did not want to stay long with the man. She ought to have the 'morning after' talk first, then she'd return to her room for the most discreet walk of shame in history and cross her fingers Audrey's party-girl tendencies had gotten the best of her and she wouldn't notice her absence.
Fortunately, or not, the man was awake, sitting on the bed and staring at her with confusion. Great, Diana thought, did he have no memory too?
"You are Diana Prince?" he inquired. His voice did a little something to her stomach and alright, maybe there was a reason why she had ended up here.
"Yes. You are?"
"You don't recognize me?" he asked, sounding bemused.
"Things are a little blurry up there," she replied evenly. "Give me another ten minutes or a cup of coffee, maybe it'll come back."
He snorted, shook his head. His bare chest distracted her for a moment, as she noted the red marks on his side that oddly looked like fingernail trails…
"Bruce Wayne," he introduced himself. Diana frowned; the name sounded somewhat familiar. "You really don't remember last night?"
"We obviously did something," Diana replied, somewhat sarcastically. She had left the ring in the bathroom and thought –thank god he didn't seem to have one. "I'm a bit hangover right now, it's a bit all of blur to me." For some reason, he looked a bit less tensed, as if she had reassured him about something. "Do you remember?"
He shrugged.
"More or less."
"More-more or more-less?"
An amused glint lightened his eyes.
"More-less."
"You don't remember either," she concluded.
"I don't," he confirmed meekly.
"Then how did you know my name?"
He reached for a stack of papers he had apparently hidden out of her view beforehand and held them out. Diana hesitated a moment, knowing that taking the papers meant stepping closer to the well-sculpted chest of a very handsome man while her head wasn't quite clear. Curiosity won over. She ignored his physical proximity the best she could –he smelt good dammit –and took them. Read the headline. Blinked twice.
"You have to be kidding me," she said, her voice a deeper octave that it should be.
A marriage contract. She was holding in her hands a marriage contract with her name as the wedded wife, and a Bruce Wayne as the wedded husband.
What the hell had she done now?