As Grace waved good-bye to go talk to her man, I reached up on my tippy toes and gave Henrik’s cheek a kiss.
“Grace may not be after you anymore, Henrik, but you still have me.”
He hugged me and leaned in to whisper, “It’s like I’m surrounded by crazy women.”
I pulled out of his grasp and playfully swatted at his arm.
“Congratulations, Drake, Payne.”
Evaleen broke our playful fight.
“I told you, I’m surrounded,” Henrik whispered before straightening.
“Thank you, Evaleen.”
She frowned and grabbed at her stomach.
“You don’t look so good, Bechmann,” Henrik said.
“Gee, thanks, Payne. I take that as a compliment coming from you.”
Glancing over at the conference table I noticed small holes in the pie and some plastic forks scattered around it. Also, a box of saltine crackers.
“Where are the plates?” I asked.
“We were out of plates.” Evaleen half sat on the table.
“Where did the crackers come from?”
“Me,” she added.
My party was a bunch of people standing around a table while eating a pie directly from the pie plate and having plain crackers.
This was so sad.
“So how was Vegas?” Henrik asked.
I narrowed my eyes at him. He wasn’t happy I left this past weekend for Vegas to help Aria, but she was my friend and I promised I would be there for her. Besides, it’s Las Vegas. Who wouldn’t go if given the chance?
Now he couldn’t stop asking about it. I think he believes I secretly married some guy while drunk. He has watched one too many comedies.
I didn’t help things by answering every question he had about the trip with, “What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas.”
“Terrible. I was sick the entire time. I spent the trip in a bathroom. I ended up leaving with Drake on Sunday. I brought the crackers. It’s the only thing I can hold down at the moment.”
Henrik frowned. “Maybe you shouldn’t be here, Bechmann. Go home and recover before you infect us all.”
She glanced around the room and her eyes flashed for a moment. Evaleen turned to us. “You’re right. I’m going to leave. Congrats, Drake. Payne.” She nodded and moved to the wall, slinking along until she was out the door.
I found Edgar in her line of sight but he didn’t see her. That was a hot mess I’d rather not get involved with. It’s obvious they have a thing for each other, but I’m still recovering from my own mess with Henrik. It’s going to take time before I can help her.
Realizing the party wasn’t about my mom’s cake, but the people here to help me celebrate it. That they were happy for Henrik and me. Some of them even went out of their way to get something. Pathetic things, but it’s the thought that counts.
I decided to pick up a fork and dig in. Enjoy the party for what it was and not what I wanted it to be. I had Henrik beside me who I loved. I worked for a company that I was proud of and woke up every day looking forward to work. Even as goofy as my friends were, I wouldn’t want any other people to hang out with.
This was a party about love, not cake.
It’s time I stopped being selfish.
As I grabbed the fork, the lights went out.
Now a power outage? Could this party get any worse?
A glow of flickering light came from the door as the room grew quiet. The glow was moving closer before it stopped just a few feet from me.
The lights came back on, and I found my mom standing in front of me holding her beautiful cake.
“Surprise, Morgana,” she said as tears fell helplessly from my eyes.
“Oh, Mom, this is the best gift ever.”
I looked over to see everyone smiling with understanding, even Henrik. They knew. The oven wasn’t broken. This was all a trick. The best trick anyone could play on me.
“You all got me.”
They cheered and there was even some clapping. I pulled Henrik close. “This was funny but the next time you mess with my cake, there might be bloodshed.”
His laughter died as he took in my expression. That’s when I kissed him before pushing him out of the way so I could grab some cake.
Luckily my mom brought paper plates, but I would have used my hands if need be.
Once I had a few pieces, I looked around and noticed Henrik was missing. Asking around, Edgar said he mentioned using the restroom.
I got an idea in my head. Smirking, I slipped away and headed over to the men’s restroom before sneaking inside. Glancing under the stalls I saw Henrik’s shoes in the last one.
“Is there room in there for another?”
That sounded sexier in my head.
“Morgana? What are you doing here?” he asked, zipping up his pants as I opened the stall door.
“I thought maybe we could make your fantasy come true.”
I pushed myself inside before shutting the door, trapping us in the stall.
“I didn’t have a fantasy of having sex in a public bathroom. I may imagine some kinky stuff but nothing involving a toilet.”
“Then what were you thinking about when I caught you in here masturbating to thoughts of me several months ago?”
“Oh, that was just a fantasy of you sucking my cock. It didn’t involve a specific location, just drooling all over my cock.”
That made sense. I thought the whole fantasy in a bathroom thing was kind of gross, but when he felt me up at that bathroom in New York, I changed my tune.
“Okay, so maybe we can go back to my office and see how much I can drool over your cock.” I smirked as his eyes brightened.
Just as I turned to open the stall door, the front door to the restroom opened with a bang and we heard a deep, grumbly voice.
“Man, that was some good cake.”
I recognized that voice. Turning to Henrik, we both whisper shouted at the same time, “The Brooks Bomb!”
Our arms reached for each other. I clung tightly to his waist and he did mine as we suffered through our first hardship as a couple. This was the stuff that strong marriages were built on.
Could we make it through the horrific torture of Ken Brooks’ ass? Only time would tell.
“I love you, Morgana,” Henrik whispered what could possibly be his last words in my ear.
A tear escaped my eye, more from the burning fumes than from emotion, as I glanced up at him. “I love you too.”
Our relationship may have been rocky but it survived. We grew stronger, not propping each other up but working together. Love grew out of our need to be the best to each other and the world.
The Brooks Bomb won’t kill us, it can only make us stronger.
EPILOGUE
Morgana’s Problem
The Plane
The wave of misery hit me with intensity.
I thought after a while the tears would dry up, but they seemed to flow faster as I realized what’s gone.
So much happiness and in a blink of an eye, nothing.
“You’re thinking of the wedding cake again, aren’t you?” Henrik’s voice, usually so soothing, just made me cry harder.
I tried to steel myself, gazing out the small window of the plane to the endless sky but it only made me think of those tiny little blue fondant flowers that dotted our cake.
“It was so beautiful. Don’t ever tell my mom, but I think it tasted better than her cake. Henrik,” I turned to face him wiping at my wet cheeks, “do they even have cake in Italy?”
He rolled his eyes at me. I knew I sounded ridiculous. Of course, they had cake in Italy. Cassata alla Siciliana was the world’s first cheesecake, from Sicily. When I found that out, I told Henrik we had to visit that part of Italy on our honeymoon.
It’s just the wedding was beautiful, and when Henrik told me how much he loved me before he said “I do” I had never felt so happy. My parents were crying, as was my grandmother but for a very different reason. Even
Evaleen shed a tear, but she explained later it was shooting pains from the heels Aria insisted she wore.
I guess I just missed it all and wondered if that was it. Did it go downhill from here?
“I told you we would visit Sicily. When Jacob told me he was letting us borrow his personal jet to take to Italy for our honeymoon he mentioned something else.”
I reached into my purse and pulled out a tissue to dab at my face.
“What is it?”
“I wanted it to be a surprise, but when I take you to dinner tonight we are going to a special restaurant that Jacob told me about. The pastry chef there is known for his cannoli cake. He is to make a special one just for you and deliver it to our table.”
My breath caught. “Oh, Henrik. That’s wonderful. I’m sorry I was being so emotional. I haven’t been feeling myself lately. Maybe because the wedding happened so fast. We got engaged in June, and it’s only September. I have been so busy the past few months I guess it’s hitting me hard that it’s over.”
He shook his head, taking my hand in his. “No Morgana, it’s just beginning.”
“Lunch will be served shortly. Please decide on your orders. I’ll be back in ten minutes to take them,” the stewardess mentioned as she came to stand next to Henrik.
She handed us menus with several options. As she walked away, Henrik leaned over and whispered in my ear, “It’s time.”
“Now? But we are about to order lunch.”
“It won’t take long.”
“Wow, that only makes me want to do this more. Fine, but let me pick what I want to eat first.”
His groan filled my ears but I ignored him and focused on the food options. It had taken only a moment before I decided, but I let him wait a minute longer.
He’s my husband now, and in any marriage there were compromises. Like what I was about to do. He brought it up last night as we were packing and based on what happened last time we attempted it, I wanted to say no. But he seemed so eager, like a child making his Christmas list. I reluctantly agreed.
“Okay, Henrik, let’s join the mile-high club.”
“Yes.” He fist pumped the air and got up looking around the plane as we made our way up the dark blue carpeted aisle. Opening the lavatory door, Henrik quickly ushered me inside.
Wow, this was tiny. The bathroom in coach on a commercial airline was bigger than this. Henrik squeezed inside. We were having trouble breathing until we maneuvered ourselves so I was standing in front of the toilet and he was in front of the sink.
“How are we going to make this happen?” I gazed around the tight space.
Henrik furrowed his brow and ran his fingers through his hair.
“I read up on all of this, even small spaces. Basically, I have to sit on the toilet while you sit on me.” He pointed to the tiny metal toilet bowl next to me.
I frowned as I noticed there was no lid on the seat.
“Oh gross. Are you sure you want to do this? It’s your butt on that seat, not mine.”
Henrik already has his jeans and briefs pulled down to his ankles, as he started stroking himself. Okay then, I guess this was a go.
I wore a dark green tennis skirt for the flight due to our plan, so I removed my pink lace panties and was ready for action. I placed my undies on the tiny counter before I squeezed by Henrik so he could sit on the toilet. None of this was turning me on, so I had to lick my fingers and rub myself before I settled back on him.
He moaned as he filled me. Henrik grabbed my hips to help me move up and down on his cock. His hand snagged and pulled at my beige polo shirt before finding my boob. Once his fingers playfully twisted my nipple, I slowly warmed to this idea.
“Oh, sweetcakes, you feel so fucking good,” he panted into my ear.
The more he moved into me, pinched me, and moaned in pleasure, the wetter I became. Maybe this wasn’t as bad as I thought it was going to be. We might even have to try this again on the way home. I smiled at the thought as I heard the toilet flush.
“Did you hit something?” I turned my head back to see his face.
“No.”
Flush. A few thrusts. Flush.
“Crap, it’s one of those automatic flush toilets. There’s cool air hitting my balls every time it happens.”
A snort came out of my mouth before I could stop it.
“Don’t laugh, Morgana, or we are going to be here a long time. Now focus. I have dreamed about this since I was a teenager.”
He dug his fingers into my hips, abandoning my boobs. Pushing me up and down, faster and faster, as random flushes went off.
There was a knock at the door.
“Yes?” My voice cracked as Henrik stilled.
“Madam, I need to take your lunch order. I couldn’t seem to locate your husband.”
I panicked. “Oh, he said he was going to take a stroll.”
Henrik groaned behind me.
“Where? There is nowhere to go here. I’ll look for him in the back. I needed to know if you wish to have fish or chicken.”
“Both of us, chicken.”
“All right.”
I heard her walk away and breathed a heavy sigh.
“Taking a stroll? This isn’t a cruise ship,” Henrik whisper-yelled at me, as he began thrusting into me again.
“Henrik, I think it’s time to give up on this dream of yours. Or, maybe on the way back from the honeymoon we can try again.”
“Give me one more second.” He sounded like he was holding his breath as he slammed hard into me. “I’m coming.”
He stilled me on top of him and I was thankful it was over. I had no idea why people wanted to do this.
Henrik took some tissues and handed them to me so I could clean myself upon standing. He wiped up and got dressed. I reached for my panties and accidentally knocked them off the counter and into the toilet, which then automatically flushed.
“Oh crap! Now what am I going to do?”
Holding his hand over his mouth, Henrik did a lousy job at covering his laughter. This was his idea and now I had to suffer the consequences. I glared at him but he drew me in for a hug and kissed the top of my head.
“Well, you could walk around without any undies on in that sexy skirt. I wouldn’t mind that at all.”
“You and most of the Italian men when we got off the plane.”
I watched as my words sank in. He grimaced and took off his jeans and briefs. Handing me his briefs, and then put back on his jeans.
“What am I supposed to do with these?”
“Wear them until we can get to the hotel room. We are husband and wife now, we share things.”
I frowned as I put them on. I wouldn’t mind putting on his underwear if they weren’t used. Also, they are big and baggy on me, poking out from under my skirt.
Once we made it back to our seat, I took the briefs off and placed them flat on the seat, as a towel. We eventually had lunch as the stewardess gave us a questioning eye. I removed the metal lid from my dish and saw a tiny piece of our wedding cake next to the chicken.
I looked up at Henrik who took the cake and brought the blue frosted confection to my lips. I took a bite and smiled at him.
“I love you, sweetcakes. Thank you for being my wife.”
THE END
*****
Thank you for taking the time to read my story about Morgana and Henrik. It would mean the world to me if you let me know how much you liked the story by leaving a review on Amazon, Goodreads, and I’d be happy to hear from you directly via email. I LOVE hearing from readers!
Love,
Elizabeth Lynx
NOTE TO READERS
Dear Reader,
Did you get a chance to read all the Cake Love books? If not, make sure you check out the peek inside of The Attraction File, One Wild Ride, and The Spy Ring to start reading the standalone stories of Morgana’s friends.
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PEEK INSIDE: THE ATTRACTION FILE
Here is a chapter from Evaleen Bechmann & Edgar Mimir’s story, The Attraction File.
***
Evaleen
She was biting her lip. Never a good sign.
I realized I was going to have to explain it to her. At least, as much as she needed to know.
“Is this the only paperwork you needed me to sign, Evaleen?” Morgana adjusted her glasses and I couldn’t help but smirk.
First day back at work for her and she was already weaponized with Payne’s kryptonite.
“Yes. I just wrote it up as a leave of absence. As far as anyone is concerned, you were never fired, Drake.”
I lied.
“Really? Not even Mr. Mimir? Because when he came to the meeting at RT Mitchell before I was fired . . .” Her jaw tightened before she took a breath and continued. “I was definitely fired from there. No mistaking Gregory Mitchell the third yelling, ‘Did you just have sex on our conference table, Ms. Drake? That is against company policy; you’re fired.’ But right before that meeting, Mr. Mimir acted—”
“Don’t worry about Mr. Mimir, Drake. I reminded him how much better you are for the company than Payne. He seemed to agree that you were an asset but refused my recommendation to fire Payne.” I shook my head.
Morgana pushed some of her red hair behind her ear as she signed the paperwork. She tilted her head up to me with that deer-in-headlights look she got sometimes.
Rules of Payne (Cake Love Book 1) Page 23
