Waking Up Filthy by R. Cayden

Why in the hell is there a naked, tattooed man in my bed?

I’m a closeted tennis pro, and I’m certainly not accustomed to waking up with strange men.
Never mind that Gabriel is a notoriously flirty rock star and, according to the marriage certificate we find in our Vegas hotel room, my new husband.
Last night is a drunken blur, but there’s no doubt in my mind what needs to happen this morning.
Annulment. ASAP.
Gabriel might be annoyingly charming and hot, but he’d spell disaster for my life and career.
Then the photos surface, the ones where we’re making out at the chapel.
A fake relationship might be our only way through the media frenzy, which means playing nice with the man who makes me want to scream and swoon at the same time.
The long-haired rocker who makes me laugh when I least expect, who swears that his songs aren’t sad, and who I definitely don’t want to kiss.
Except for maybe one more time. Just to get it out of our systems…