Vegas, Baby: Complete Series
Page 27
“You’re not doing it right, Daddy.” Faith heaved an exaggerated sigh, and then the stand mixer whirred back to life. “You have to beat the eggs and sugar for two more minutes or else they won’t have enough air whipped in them.”
After all of the baking lessons I’d given Maddox throughout the years—it took lots of attempts because we tended to rip our clothes off whenever we were alone together—he was well-versed in how to make my favorite little butter cakes. But he had no problem acting as though he didn’t know what he was doing since Faith enjoyed bossing him around so much. “It’s a good thing you’re helping me make these. My surprise for your mom would’ve been ruined without you.”
“Silly daddy,” Hope giggled. “Mommy won’t care how good they taste if we’re the ones who made them for her.”
“Because she loves us this much.” I closed my eyes, easily picturing Maddox spreading his arms wide like he always did when he said that.
“But we can still make them the right way,” Faith insisted.
She reminded me of her daddy when she got super stubborn and bossy. I slapped my hand over my mouth but was too late to quiet my laughter. The mixer turned off, and my sexy husband’s arms wrapped around me. He claimed my lips in a brief but hard kiss before calling out, “We’re in luck, girls! Mommy is here to help us.”
“Yay! Mommy!” Hope yelled, running over to take my hand and drag me into the kitchen. “We’re at the best part.”
I glanced at the counter and wasn’t surprised to see three mixing bowls lined up perfectly in a row. Faith grinned at me, holding her favorite pink spatula. “Hi, Mommy. We’re getting ready to add the dry stuff into the eggs and sugar.”
I ran my hand down my oldest daughter’s dark-red hair and smiled. “Everything looks perfect. Good job, sweetie.”
“I did the lemon zest,” Hope boasted, tugging on my hand.
Smiling down at her, I licked my lips. “Mmm, the hint of lemon is what makes the recipe so yummy.”
“And the vanilla,” Faith chimed in as she lifted the bowl with the dry ingredients to start folding it into the beaten mixture of eggs, sugar, lemon zest, and vanilla. Maddox came up behind her to steady the bowl, and she twisted her head to flash him a big grin. “Thanks, Daddy.”
“I wanna do the next part.” I settled my hand on Hope’s lower back while she climbed back on a stool so she could reach the mixing bowls. The girls were only seven and eight, but Faith had already outgrown the need for one. Hope wasn’t too far behind, which wasn’t a surprise since Maddox and I were both tall. She had another inch to go before she could safely work in the kitchen without a stool.
I helped Hope mix half of the batter into the melted butter, and then Maddox watched over Faith while she poured that back into the batter and blended it all together. Once everything was combined into one bowl, I clapped my hands together. “Okay, girls. This needs to chill for about an hour. How about you go ahead and wash up and play outside until it’s time to brush the pan with melted butter?”
Our daughters hopped off their stools and ran into the downstairs bathroom. They chattered back and forth as they squirted their favorite strawberry scented foam soap into their hands and rinsed off the bubbles. Then they dried their hands off and ran for the French doors that led out to the backyard. After they scampered over to the playground set and we’d cleaned up the mess, Maddox backed me up against the counter. I smiled up at him and stroked my hands up his chest. “Thanks for the surprise. You know how much I love Madeleines.”
“Anything for you, baby.” Pressing a palm against the marble surface on either side of my body, he lowered his head and brushed his lips over mine. “You give me my favorite dessert whenever I want it, too.”
A shiver raced up my spine as I remembered how I’d had to muffle my cries with a pillow just this morning. “And I get lots of orgasms out of it.”
“That’s the best part—watching your beautiful face as you come.” He bumped his hard length against my lower belly. “I’ve been addicted ever since you came back to that tattoo parlor and let me taste that pretty little pussy of yours before you gave me your cherry.”
A deep flush warmed my cheeks, not out of embarrassment but desire. My hands clenched his shirt, and I was about to pull him closer when I heard the girls call out for us to push them on the swings. “Tonight.”
“It sounds like we have a plan,” he agreed. “You’ll gorge on your favorite cakes after dinner, and then I’ll devour you for my dessert after the girls go to bed.”
Lucky me, that was how most of our nights went.
Extra Extra Epilogue
Ariel
I was just walking out of the cooler after rolling a seven-tier wedding cake inside when Maddox stalked through the door connecting my bakery to Ink Addiction. We were in the thick of wedding season, and I’d been working more hours than usual. Belle and Griffith were babysitting Faith and Hope for us tonight so I could put the final touches on the biggest cake I’d ever done. It weighed fifty pounds and was decorated with more than five hundred individually handcrafted sugar roses and flowers, which had taken about a hundred and sixty hours to make.
Even with a team of five bakers helping me the past two days, I hadn’t finished the darn thing until a few minutes ago. When Maddox had come to check on me an hour ago after Ink Addiction had closed, he hadn’t been happy to discover that I wasn’t done yet. He’d grumbled something about me working too hard before stomping back to his office to draw some new designs.
“You done?” he asked, his gaze sweeping the room to take in the gleaming, stainless steel surfaces.
“Yup.” I let the P at the end pop as I grinned up at him.
“Fucking finally.” He wrapped his hands around my hips and lifted me onto the counter. Wrapping my legs around his waist, he lowered his head to claim my mouth. I parted my lips so our tongues could tangle and lost myself in his kiss. By the time he lifted his head, I was panting in need.
He reached behind my back to untie my apron and tossed it on the floor. As he pulled my shirt over my head, I kicked off my shoes and wiggled out of my pants. Then he unclasped my bra and tugged the material down my arms. My nipples pebbled when he brushed his thumbs over them and growled, “It’s been too long since I’ve gotten to play with your perfect tits.”
“A few days is hardly that long.” I gasped and arched my back when he nipped at one of my breasts, his piercing blue eyes burning into mine. “Okay, you’re right. It feels like forever.”
“Damn straight I’m right.” He yanked on my hips, pulling me to the edge of the counter to grind his hard length against my core. “You know I’m addicted to your hot little pussy. I’m practically going through withdrawals.”
I twined my arms around his neck. “We can’t have that, now can we?”
“Fuck no.” He took a step back and palmed the heavy globes in his hands, squeezing them before gliding one of his hands down to cup my pussy over my panties. “Especially not when you’re drenched for me. No way in hell would I ever leave you in need.”
“Then take me now.” I left out the second part of the famous line from Top Gun because that would’ve been ridiculous since he was never going to lose me.
He ripped my panties from my body, and my gasp of surprise was swallowed by a moan when he spread my legs wider and crouched low to bury his face in my pussy. He licked, sucked, and nibbled until I was writhing on the counter and crying out his name as my orgasm crashed over me. I was still shuddering when he straightened and unzipped his jeans to pull out his dick. He didn’t waste any time before he notched the tip in my entrance—not even bothering to remove any of his clothing. There was something so darn sexy about being spread out completely naked while he was fully clothed except for his cock.
His gaze raked down my curves as he thrust his hips forward and groaned, “So fucking tight.”
“Because your dick is so big.” I dug my nails into his forearms, lifting up to meet his thrust.
Feminine satisfaction surged through my veins. “Uh-huh, I sure do.”
“I’m already holding on by a thread here, baby,” he warned, circling his hips on his next plunge and sending a zing of pleasure straight to my core.
“Let go,” I panted. “Because I’m close, too.”
He hiked one of my legs around his hip so he could go deeper, his hard length dragging against my walls with each of his thrusts. When he slid his hand between our bodies to circle my clit with his thumb, it felt as though fireworks exploded inside me. I cried out his name as he filled me with his come. Still anchored deep, he dropped his head against my chest while he caught his breath. “Damn baby, I really needed that.”
“Same,” I sighed, clutching at his shoulders when he finally pulled out. I pulled him close and whispered against his lips, “If I get another seven-tier cake order, I promise to hire a new full-time baker.”
He claimed my mouth in a deep kiss, my mind spinning when he lifted his head again. “Don’t be surprised if you see an order with my name on it tomorrow.”
I thought he was teasing me, but I discovered how serious he’d been when I found the order slip for a cake that cost almost three thousand dollars on my desk the next morning...and the delivery address was Ink Addiction.
Baby, I Do
Aurora Dawson loved helping happy couples have their perfect wedding and happily ever after. Even if she never found one for herself.
When a divorce office opened shop right next to her, she was livid that someone would help tear apart the couples she brought together. But it was hard for her to stay angry at the charming, sexy lawyer when she found herself fighting an attraction like she’d never felt before.
With all the families he’d seen torn apart because of marriages that never should have happened in the first place, Will Scott was a one and done kind of man. When the stunning owner of the wedding chapel came storming into his office, he knew right away that she was the forever he was looking for. Now, he just had to convince Aurora that he was her happily ever after.
1
Aurora
I loved weddings. The blushing brides, handsome grooms, and especially, the way they looked at each other. The flashy rings, beautiful flowers, and decadent cakes. I basically loved everything about them, which was a good thing since I lived and breathed weddings pretty much twenty-four seven.
When my older brother asked my younger sisters and me if we’d be interested in opening a wedding chapel inside the Lennox, the hottest resort on the Vegas Strip, I leapt at the chance. Knox knew we’d be a perfect fit for the business that his boss, Drew Lennox, wanted to add to the property. Ariel was a whiz with cakes, Belle lived for flowers, and I was the type A personality out of the bunch who kept everyone organized.
Running The Chapel of Dreams wasn’t just my job—it was a dream come true. I loved coming into work every day, knowing I was going to be a part of one of the most important days in a couple’s life. Giving them the perfect wedding gave me a sense of accomplishment that had me grinning whenever I was at work...except for those rare instances when I wished the couple in question had picked a different chapel because they were unworthy of that perfection. Like the bride and groom who were getting ready to walk down the aisle of my chapel right now.
“You two make a cute couple,” I lied, infusing my tone with as much sincerity as I could muster.
The guy was actually a douchebag. But it wasn't like I was going to say that in front of the bride. She must’ve seen something in him that she loved since she’d accepted his marriage proposal, after all. She’d made the arrangements with me, and all he’d done when he came in with her today for their ceremony was complain about the cost.
It wasn't like she’d even chosen anywhere close to our expensive packages, which were tailored to the rich and famous and had the price tag to match. She’d added some of our popular bells and whistles—like limousine service before and after the ceremony, live streaming of the service for friends and family to watch, and a few of our keepsakes—but she hadn’t gone overboard. And it was my understanding she was footing the entire bill—or at least her parents were. None of that had stopped him from bitching and moaning right up until they stood in front of our officiant, though.
I hurried to gather their marriage certificate, DVD of the ceremony, and keepsakes because I wanted them on their way before I said something I’d regret. As I was tucking everything into their bag, the groom—and I used that term loosely—turned to his new wife and joked, “Getting married in Vegas was smart, baby. If we wake up tomorrow morning and decide that we hate being married, we can always get a quickie divorce at that place we saw just around the corner.”
My head jerked up as the bride exclaimed, “What? How could you even say that?”
I waited for him to try to smooth things over with his wife before asking, “What divorce place?”
“Right before the limo dropped us off, there was an awning over a storefront around the corner for a lawyer who specializes in quickie divorces,” the bride answered, elbowing her hubby in the side. “I should’ve known better than to point it out to this one since he has the worst sense of humor ever.”
“You know I like to get you worked up, baby,” he muttered.
When she cooed back at him, all lovey-dovey, I handed her the bag and wished them well. As soon as the door closed behind them, I dropped down on my chair and narrowed my eyes. Powering up my computer, I decided to do a little digging before my next couple arrived.
Who in the hell would open a legal office specializing in divorce just around the corner from one of the most popular wedding chapels in town? It was so rude! The idea of my clients driving right past an awning like that really bothered me, but I couldn’t seem to find anything online before my last clients for the night walked in.
By the time they were finished—after a wedding where Ariel, Belle, and I had outdone ourselves—I was exhausted. It wasn’t until I was back home and in bed that I started to stew over that office specializing in divorces again. “If I ever meet that damn lawyer…” I grumbled as I punched my pillow and tried to get comfortable.
I spent most of the night tossing and turning, which I blamed on whatever jack-hole had decided to rain on my parade by opening a business so close to us that was the direct opposite of The Chapel of Dreams. But at least I’d dreamed up some inventive ways to make them pay by the time I had to get up and head out the door.
After stopping to grab my favorite coffee concoction and treating myself to a slice of pumpkin loaf and a cake pop for later, I was finally able to get myself into a semi-decent mood while I was on my way to work. Only it didn’t last long because I spotted the sign the douchebag from last night had mentioned. There it was, bold as brass, offering quickie divorces after quickie weddings. My heart pounded in my chest, and I felt like I was going to puke when I saw one of the couples who’d gotten married at my chapel yesterday walking inside.
“Oh, hell no!” I pounded my fist against my steering wheel before swerving to the right to nab a spot about fifty feet down the street and hopping out of my car. I was steaming mad when I stormed into the office only about a minute behind the two people who’d promised to love each other for the rest of their lives, right in front of my eyes, not even a full day ago.
Their eyes rounded in shock when they recognized me, before their heads dropped to stare at the floor. If I wasn’t so pissed off, I might’ve taken the time to enjoy the fact that they at least felt guilty for me seeing them there. But they weren’t the root of my problem.
Turning to the guy manning the front desk, I quickly dismissed him as the person I needed to vent at because he looked like he’d maybe graduated from college a minute ago. He definitely wasn’t old enough to have gone through law school, pass the bar, and open a law office of his own. “Where’s
your boss?”
“He’ll be out in a second. Were you hoping to speak with him about getting a divorce?” the guy asked with a calm smile. Then he pointed over my shoulder toward the newlyweds who were already regretting their marriage. “Would you mind taking a seat? Because they’re up next. We’ll get to you as quickly as we can.” It was clear by his tone that he was attempting to calm me but nothing short of ripping his boss a new one was going to pacify me.
I held up my hand and wiggled my fingers to emphasize the absence of a ring. “No, I’d need to have a husband if I wanted to get divorced...which would never happen because I believe in marriage being forever. Unlike your boss, whose life’s work appears to be offering people an easy way out of their marriage.”
“I…um…” the poor guy sputtered, his soothing demeanor slipping away under the weight of my enraged glare.
“It’s okay, Chad. I’ve got this.”
My head whipped in the direction of that deep, masculine voice. In my anger, it took me a moment to recognize how shockingly handsome the man walking toward me was. He had golden blond hair that looked as though he’d just run his fingers through it, dark green eyes, and dimples that popped in his cheeks when he flashed me a charming grin. The pair of wire-rimmed glasses perched on his nose made him adorably nerdy. But he was also muscular. And hot as hell.
My long-dormant libido chose that moment to roar to life, but I wasn’t going to let my vagina make my decisions for me—not with this guy anyway. He was the enemy, no matter how attracted to him I was. And he was a bad choice, too. Because no way would a guy who specialized in divorces be interested in giving me a happily ever after. What a waste.