Insta-Hubby

The girl I wanna whisper filthy things to is wearing a perfect white wedding dress.
The gorgeous little curvy brunette appears to already be spoken for.
No harm in congratulating her on the big day though, right?
Turns out she’s not getting married at all. The girl in the big white gown is a wedding dress model.
White’s perfect for her, because I can tell she’s very inexperienced.
And that hoard of women chasing me down the street?
Yeah, that’s not real either. It’s for a photo shoot.
See, I’m a blogger with a following almost as big as my…you know.
My father doesn’t approve. He doesn’t like blogs, or the fact that I haven’t settled down yet.
That means I have to find a proper, presentable, good little wife, or he’ll give control of our family’s newspaper conglomerate to my jerk brother.
The angel in front of me might be perfect to play the part.
After all, she’s already wearing the right dress.
And by the time I’m done with her she’ll be screaming my name. Begging for more. She will be anything but good.
I’ll make that pristine white dress all dirty.
It will be anything but fake.
And she will be all mine.