<h2>Chapter 1: Desert Heat and Hidden Rings</h2>
The Mojave sun blazed overhead, a merciless bastard scorching the cracked earth as Joseph Walker, the Courier, trudged alongside Rose of Sharon Cassidy. The pair had just left the dusty outskirts of Primm, their boots kicking up sand with every step. Sweat glistened on Cass’s tanned skin, her red hair tied back in a messy ponytail, a bottle of whiskey dangling from her hand. Joseph couldn’t help but steal glances at her—those sharp green eyes, the curve of her hips in those worn leather pants. She was a goddamn wildfire, and he was the fool who’d married her in a drunken Vegas ceremony under the neon glow of the Strip.
“Quit starin’, Joe,” Cass snapped, catching his gaze. Her voice was rough, like gravel and honey, with a smirk that could cut glass. “Ain’t like you ain’t seen it all before. Hell, you’ve seen more of me than the damn Legion’s seen of the Colorado.”
Joseph grinned, adjusting the brim of his hat to shade his dark eyes. “Can’t help it, darlin’. You’re my wife now. Gotta appreciate the goods I’m legally bound to.”
Cass stopped dead in her tracks, turning to face him with a glare that could melt steel. “Don’t you start with that ‘wife’ shit out here. We ain’t playin’ house, Joe. That ring’s just a piece of metal we were too drunk to pawn off. Doesn’t change a damn thing.”
“Changes plenty,” he shot back, stepping closer, his voice dropping low, teasing. “Means I can kiss you without you punchin’ me. Means I can hold you after we’re done fuckin’ instead of you rollin’ over and demandin’ round two like I’m some hired gun.”
Her cheeks flushed, though whether from the heat or his words, he couldn’t tell. She took a swig of whiskey, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. “You’re gettin’ sappy on me, Courier. Next thing I know, you’ll be writin’ me poetry while I’m tryin’ to reload my shotgun. Marriage don’t make the sex better—it makes it weird. I ain’t just bangin’ my buddy no more. I’m gettin’ fucked by my husband. Feels... off.”
Joseph chuckled, his hand brushing against hers as they walked. “Off? Nah, Cass. It’s hotter. You’re mine now, and I’m yours. Every time I’m inside you, it’s like I’m claimin’ you all over again. Don’t tell me you don’t feel that heat.”
She rolled her eyes but didn’t pull away from his touch. “You’re a damn romantic for a wasteland drifter. Fine. Let’s see if you can back up that talk. There’s an abandoned shack up ahead. If you’re so keen on this husband crap, prove it ain’t just pillow talk.”
They reached the shack, a crumbling heap of wood and rust, but it had a roof and a door that locked. Inside, the air was stale, thick with the scent of dust and decay, but neither cared. Cass tossed her bottle aside, turning to face him with a challenging smirk. “Alright, Joe. Show me what’s so great about bein’ hitched. Make me forget I ever called this a mistake.”
He didn’t waste a second, closing the distance between them, his hands gripping her waist as he pulled her against him. Her breath hitched, but her eyes burned with defiance. “You think you can just sweet-talk me into swoonin’? I ain’t some damsel, Joe. You better work for it.”
“Oh, I plan to,” he growled, his lips crashing into hers. The kiss was hungry, desperate, tasting of whiskey and salt from the sweat on their skin. Her hands fisted in his shirt, pulling him closer as their tongues battled for dominance. He backed her against the wall, the rough wood scraping against her back as his fingers worked at the buckle of her pants.
“Fuck, Joe,” she gasped, breaking the kiss, her voice dripping with need. “If you’re gonna play the dotin’ husband, at least get to the good part. I’m already wet thinkin’ about that hard cock of yours.”
His grin was feral as he yanked her pants down, revealing the glistening heat between her thighs. “Damn, Cass. Dripping for me already? Guess marriage ain’t so bad after all.”
“Shut up and fuck me,” she snapped, but her hands were already tugging at his belt, freeing him as her eyes darkened with lust. The tension between them was electric, a storm ready to break, and as he pressed against her, the promise of raw, explosive passion hung heavy in the air. They were about to find out just how much those hidden vows could ignite their wasteland nights.
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