Sweet Victory: BTU Alumni Series Book #3

by Ciz, Alley

  Her nipples stood out, both from the chilled air in the kitchen and the wanton look on his face as he stared down at her half-naked on the counter.

  Then as if she weighed no more than a bag of flour, one arm hooked around her middle, lifting her enough to peel her leggings over her ass and down her legs, her sneakers and socks sliding off in the process. His effortless display of strength sent a fresh wave of heat so strong she barely noticed the chill of the countertop beneath her bare ass.

  Once resettled, Vince grabbed the mixing bowl of leftover red frosting, holding it between them as he dipped one long finger into the buttercream.

  Wordlessly, he stretched his red-coated finger out, traced a line across her collarbone and down to her right nipple, before dipping back in for more frosting and doing the same to the left.

  Again he went back for more, this time following the zigzag pattern of freckles down her belly, playing connect the dots with the beauty marks, stopping before he reached her pulsing clit.

  “Whatever you do,” he leaned in, millimeters away from her buttercreamed collarbone, “don’t tell Gem about this. She’ll kick my ass for breaking my diet, but fuck, if I haven’t imagined licking frosting off of you from the moment I met you.”

  Then no more words were needed as his tongue licked the sweetness from her body, scraping his teeth across the small bump of her collarbone, the sensation mimicking itself in her clit begging for attention.

  Completely unhurried, he continued down the drawn path, sucking first one then the other nipple into his mouth until they were extremely clean.

  He bent, skimming the plane of her stomach, his dexterous tongue driving her into a frenzy. He told her once his hands had to be registered as lethal weapons, but his mouth should be too. The combination of the dirty words he loved to whisper and the wicked things his tongue knew how to do was lethal.

  At the end of the line, his slight scruff grazed across her pubic bone. She whimpered as he pulled back, holding her thighs open as he stared at the place that wanted him the most.

  “Fuck, baby. You are the most delicious cupcake I’ve ever tasted.”

  Another whimper escaped when he went back for another dollop of frosting, this time tracing between her lips to coat the swollen bud underneath.

  “Do you know the one thing missing?” He stroked the outside of her lips with his thumbs, waiting for her response.

  Does he seriously think I’m capable of intelligent thought right now?

  By the way he continued to wait, the back and forth motion of his fingers just outside where she needed them most, he did.

  “What’s that?” she asked so he would finish what he started.

  “It needs something to sweeten it up some.”

  “The hell it does.” She was the professional, and her frosting recipe was legit, the perfect balance of sugar without being too sweet.

  He tsked. “It does, babe.” His mouth hovered over her already weeping pussy. “It’s missing you. Now be a good girl and come for me.”

  She started to roll her eyes at the good girl comment, but as his tongue started to trace figure eights on her clit, they rolled for an entirely different reason.

  VINCE HAD BEEN out of sorts since Holly discovered what he did. When she still wasn’t home hours after her usual time, he couldn’t sit around and wait any longer. A quick drive to the Samson boys for the key to Espresso Patronum, and he went to see his girl.

  Now on his knees, literally, in apology for being a moron, he lapped up every drop of sugar—and he wasn’t talking about the frosting—from her delicious pussy. His Cupcake was quickly becoming his favorite dessert of all time.

  He bit down on her clit, and she gushed into his mouth, her orgasm bursting. He continued to lick until the last of her tremors abated. He placed a few kisses on her thigh before rising to stand. Her lust-drunk eyes were heavy, lashes opening to look at him. A surge of male pride filled him at being the one to put that look on her face.

  His dick was screaming for release, but he ignored the way it tented his joggers, now wasn’t about him. Holly, however, was not about that life. Her hands came out, gripped the bottom of his shirt and tugged until he bent to help pull it over his head, his hat getting dislodged in the process.

  “My turn.” Her smile was sinful as she hopped off the counter, reversing their positions and pushing him against it. She hooked her thumbs in the waistband of his joggers, pushing them down until they were at his feet, his dick bouncing as it was freed from the confines of the material.

  Unconcerned with her own nudity, she reached for the container of frosting, tracing her own pattern in the cuts of his six pack and the deep v framing his groin.

  “I have dreamt about doing this to you since the day you blatantly stripped in my kitchen.”

  He loved knowing she thought about him as much as he thought about her. He'd practically given himself blisters jerking off so many times thinking of all the naughty things he wanted to do to her.

  But as she lowered herself in front of him, little sounds of pleasure humming in her throat while she licked the frosting from his torso, he had to calculate the number of calories his own dessert exploration was to prevent blowing his load prematurely. His girl may claim to be one of Santa’s besties, but she was pure vixen when it came to sexy times.

  The container went to the floor beside her knees, her finger drawing a line down the length of his dick right at her eye-level. She sat back on her heels as her thumb circled the head, swiping across the drop of pre-cum that had leaked free and sucking it between her lips.

  Fuck if that wasn’t the hottest thing he had ever seen.

  Then without warning, she took the entire length of him in her mouth, swallowing him down her throat until her lips brushed against the skin of his groin.

  She hummed around his cock, the vibrations almost tipping him over the edge as she worked him.

  Out to the tip.

  Down to the base.

  A drag of the tongue on the underside of his dick.

  A swirl of it around the sensitive head.

  He was seconds away from coming down her throat, but no way he could when he was the one who was supposed to be apologizing.

  He snapped his hips back, his cock falling from her mouth with an audible pop. He hooked his hands under her arms as she blinked in confusion.

  “I am not coming without you,” he growled, reversing their positions again, this time bending her over the counter, her glorious ass on full display. He smacked it once just to watch the muscles bounce.

  He stretched her arms out in front of her, his hands curving around hers to grip the opposite edge of the counter.

  “Hold on tight, baby,” he advised, dragging the head of his cock through her wetness and slammed himself home inside her in one thrust.

  He groaned as the heat of her pussy squeezed him in a viselike grip.

  He wasn’t going to last long. This was going to be a quick, hard fuck at its finest.

  He curved one arm around her hip to strum her clit, and the other snaked between her stomach and the counter to pluck a nipple while his hips pounded into her in an almost punishing pace.

  Over and over, he drove himself into her.

  “Vince,” she cried.

  Pull back, push inside.

  “More,” she pleaded. “More. Give me more.”

  There wasn’t a chance he was stopping.

  His fingers on her clit sped up until she was coming around him with a scream, her wetness soaking him to the balls. He squeezed the tit in his hand and emptied himself inside her, following her over the edge.

  His body draped over hers like a blanket, utterly spent from the most intense orgasm of his life. This woman wrecked him in every single way.

  When he finally felt like his legs were strong enough to support him, he shifted to pull her into his arms, sinking down to the floor, cradling her in his lap, pressing a kiss on the crown of her head.

  “Now that’
s what I call makeup sex.” He spoke into the wild waves of her sex hair.

  She let out a surprised giggle. “I think I like the way you apologize.”

  Fuck, he loved this girl.

  He meant what he'd said earlier. He was going to marry her one day.

  Now all he had to do was deal with her family.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  With Christmas only a few days away, the orders for Holly’s custom cookies had tripled. To accommodate the increased demand, she no longer handled the everyday baking for Espresso Patronum, only focusing on the cookies until the holiday season was over.

  Needing a break from all the snowmen, Santas, reindeer and wreaths, she chose to spend an hour at The Steele Maker, unabashedly watching her sexy fighter boyfriend train for his fight just over a week away.

  “You coming to the game with us tonight? Or are you stuck making cookies again?” Maddey asked from her own oversized beanbag chair as they watched Vince and Gage grapple on the mats in front of them.

  “No game for me. I’ll be slaving away late into the night, finishing the last of the special orders. But then I get three days off, so it’s okay.”

  “You’re coming to Jordan’s for Christmas, right?”

  Maddey’s question went unanswered because Holly was distracted by watching Vince scramble out of Gage’s python-like arms, slipping out, flipping them over so he was behind the heavyweight champ, legs wrapped and ankles locked around his belly, arms crushed around his head in a headlock, while bending back in a way that caused both their backs to arch.

  She had no idea what any of the technical terms were but the strength a move like that required was impressive enough that even a layman like herself could appreciate it. It also helped that both guys were shirtless, every muscle on display in all their bulging glory.

  “Hol?” Maddey’s voice broke through her lustful thoughts.

  “Hmm?” What would it feel like to have Vince wrapped around her so tightly?

  “Girl,” Maddey chuckled. “You got it bad. I don’t blame you, but damn.” Her eyes shifted to look over Holly’s shoulder to the treadmill area behind her. “Ray, take it easy on my dog. I’m spending the next few days at Jordan’s, he’ll get plenty of exercise.”

  Holly turned to watch as Ray ran on a treadmill with Trident on the machine beside him. When Vince’s roommate first called the dog over to the treadmill, she'd thought he was out of his mind, but Maddey explained Trident ran on a treadmill a few times a week when it was too cold for her to take him outside. She couldn’t make this stuff up if she tried.

  Grunting from the mats brought her attention back to where the two guys were practically rolling around trying to get the other to tap out. Why was it so hot to watch?

  “Now you see why I write out of here sometimes?” Maddey leaned over to whisper.

  “Oh, yeah.” She nodded, still transfixed by the display in front of her.

  “Okay, that’s enough for today,” Rocky said from where she observed her husband and her brother training. “It’s leg day for you both, so get to work.” She pointed to the free weight area at the front of the gym.

  “Hey, Cupcake.” Vince greeted her with a kiss, bending down to grab a towel and water bottle.

  “Hey, Muffin.”

  He matched her smirk with one of his own, his dimple popping out because he knew she loved it. She still had yet to say the words—too scared to utter them out loud—but she loved him with her whole heart. Even the pieces tattered by her past loved him. He healed her in ways she never thought a person could.

  “How much longer do I have you?” His teeth ripped open the Velcro on his red Flash hand wraps, unraveling one before repeating the action on the other.

  Even when he was working, training, he made her feel that she was a part of what he was doing. He included her though she was merely a spectator.

  “I’ve got at least a half an hour before I have to head back. And I might even be able to be convinced to extend my timeline for the right incentive.”

  She let out a startled yelp when he scooped her out of her seat and into his arms, pulling her flush against his sweaty body, the musk and soap filling her senses in a heady rush that made her want to lick him all over.

  She should not be thinking about licking him while around other people because all it did was remind her of the frosting foray a few weeks earlier.

  “Vincent.” Papa Steele's hard voice cut across the gym. “You know the rules. If you want your girlfriend—a girlfriend I’ll remind you that you haven’t brought by for family dinner yet—to be able to hang out here, you keep all that”—he circled a finger at them—“out of my gym during working hours.”

  Properly chastised by his father, Vince lowered her to the ground and took her hand in his.

  “Come on, Cupcake.” He tugged her forward. “You can help me workout.”

  “Umm.” She hesitated even as she let him lead her toward the weights and machines. “I’m not sure if you noticed this about me, but I’m not the most athletic person. And I sure as hell am not strong enough to lift anything you can.”

  “Oh, you think I’m strong, baby?” His tone was gleeful as he let his ego out to play.

  He walked her to the leg press machine. He stood back, examining the machine until he settled on which weights to use. He loaded up each side with a large forty-five-pound plate, then turned back to face her.

  “Hop on up.” He patted the top of the shelf.

  “Come again?”

  “I’m saving that for later when I have you back in my bed.” His words made her blush. “But for now, you’re gonna help me lift. Now put that perfect heart-shaped ass of yours right here.” He smacked his hand on the shelf again.

  “You’re serious?”

  “Abso-fucking-lutely.” His dimple was out again. “This is child’s play compared to the ways Rocky added to Gage’s workouts before she let him knock her up. Now come on, chop-chop.”

  “Aww…look, Blue. Vin is trying to play with the big boys, having Hol sit on the leg press,” Gage said as they joined them in the weight area.

  “Oh, how cute. Our boy is growing up,” Rocky said, a familiar mischievous sparkle in her gray eyes.

  “We’ll talk once you graduate to doing pull-ups with your girl hanging on you. But A for effort.” Gage clapped Vince on the back and shared a laugh with his wife.

  “Wait.” Holly held her hands up in a time-out gesture. “You’ve done that?” She waved a finger between Rocky and Gage.

  “Oh, yeah.” Rocky pulled her phone from the pocket on the side of her leggings. “Got pictures of it too.” She passed her phone to Holly. Snap went the gingerbread man, it was impressive. She couldn’t even lift her own body in a pull-up, let alone do it with another person wrapped around her. She looked at Gage with new respect.

  “Hey now,” Vince cut in. “He’s a married man, Cupcake, and you’re a taken woman.”

  “Like I could ever forget you claimed me, Muffin.” She smiled at him as she walked up to the leg press. “But you can’t blame a girl for being impressed.”

  His gray eyes narrowed at her. “Well, let's go then. Hop on me and let’s do some pull-ups.”

  “First off, eww. I don’t need to hear your dirty talk.” Rocky mimed gagging. “And second, it’s leg day. Sit your ass down and push your girlfriend up and down.”

  Law laid down, Vince hoisted her onto the shelf and settled himself in the seat below on his back, sneakers positioning themselves under her. He released the lever and slowly started to lower her down toward him until his knees were bent at a ninety-degree angle before pushing back up again.

  He made it seem effortless as he lowered her and the weights up and down.

  Down to him.

  Up away from him.

  Down.

  Up.

  Bend the knees.

  Straighten the legs.

  She counted off two dozen reps before he reengaged the locks and rose to stand. He t
old her to stay on her perch, he had two more sets to do.

  She admired the way his gym shorts tightened around his thighs as he pulled his foot behind him to his equally spectacular ass in a quad stretch. Before he could reclaim his seat, a commotion by the front counter captured their attention.

  Becky was out from her usual perch behind it, holding up her hands in an attempt to stop whoever had shown up from entering the gym further.

  The breath whooshed from her lungs as the man came into view and her heart stopped—literally felt like it stopped beating—as shock set in.

  Blue eyes she knew well met hers across the room, the same ones she'd wished never to see again when she escaped. The Steele Maker was the last place she ever expected to see them.

  Goosebumps rose on her skin, and she went clammy as she locked eyes with her least favorite person on the planet.

  Her fiancé.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  No.

  No, no.

  No, no, no, no, no.

  This is not happening.

  I’m dreaming.

  This is a nightmare.

  Holly froze as if the blue eyes locked on her were Medusa’s, and she was turned to stone.

  She knew her family had found her and were trying to scare her into returning home, but she never thought he would show up.

  Chad Montgomery.

  Heir to the Montgomery fortune.

  Son of Connecticut’s current Senator.

  The Montgomerys had been a staple in American politics since the American Revolution. They were the Kennedys before the Kennedys were the Kennedys.

  If the rumors were true—and in this case they always were—Chad would be running for office when his father stepped down in a few years to make a run for the White House.

  Chad Montgomery was the picture-perfect All-American good boy. With his coiffed blond hair and blue eyes, he was preppy perfection in a polo and khakis or the bespoke three-piece suit he currently wore.

  He was everything her family expected for their daughter. A Yale undergrad alum and a JD from Harvard Law, the former polo player was the quintessential future politician. Those were the things that mattered most to the Vanderbuilts, what connections they could make, what would help grow their empire—things like love, or the fact that Chad was eight years older than her, never even entered the equation.