“Oh, I’m far more demanding in bed. You should just give up on any dreams of us sleeping together because there is no pleasing me. Come on.” I gather his discarded suit and poke my head through the door. The hall is empty, so I sneak out and carefully open the first door I find. Tossing Leo’s belongings inside, I follow him toward the kitchen. As we enter, there’s a small room with basins and several signs depicting people washing their hands. I glance at the line of chef’s jackets hanging on hooks just inside the door. Leo shoots me a look that says he’s going to murder me. I shrug and allow him to go first, but I make sure my voice is loud enough for the other kitchen staff to hear. “I already told you, I need that cake now.”
“Err . . .” Leo looks flustered. I widen my eyes and give him the ‘get with the program, idiot’ stare. “Right, but you can’t be in here.”
“You listen to me, buddy. If I don’t deliver that cake right this second, my bride is going to have a meltdown the likes of which you’ve never seen, so get to it.”
“Okay, just um—”
“Ugh.” I turn to the other chefs and shake my head. “Where do you keep the wedding cakes? I need it now.” A young chef closest to us raises an arm and points to a large cool room at the back of the kitchen. “Thank you. Finally, someone who’s not incompetent.” I grab Leo’s lapel and say, “You. Show me.”
“O-o-okay,” he says, heading for the cool room. With my back ramrod straight and my brain sounding off alarms about how this will never work, I follow close behind.
Once we’re inside, I find it. There in the corner sits a huge three-tiered blush and gold-leaf cake. I glance around, searching through the cooler’s contents, then I snag a tub of vanilla buttercream from off the shelf.
“Leave them some money,” I say.
“What?”
“Leave them some money.”
Leo’s brow furrows. I swear it’s like this man is more and more confused every time I open my mouth? “Why?”
“So they can afford a new cake.”
“So, what? Like, one hundred bucks?”
I give him an impatient look. “Add another zero.”
“A thousand dollars for a cake? That’s insanity.”
“It’s like I don’t even know you,” I say, shaking my head. “Now, pull out your goddamn wallet, leave them a big old chunk of cash, and let’s get out of here before anyone discovers the unconscious man in the room across the hall.”
Leo chews his lip, then he pulls his wallet from his pocket and counts out several crisp Benjamins, leaving them on the shelf. Any wedding planner worth her salt would check on the cake as soon as she arrives on the island, so I have no doubt the kitchen will be getting another visit soon. “You know you’re scary as hell when you’re mad, Pop Tart.”
“You should see me when I’m premenstrual.”
“You mean it gets worse?”
I smile sweetly. “Much, much worse.”
He grimaces. We grab a few tools on the way out and exit the kitchen with our goodies in tow. In the hall, I pull Leo into the room where I stashed his suit. It’s a smaller space than the one our wedding is currently being held in. I pull a table from the side of the room, and he sets the cake on it before I get to work, carefully chipping away at the gold-leaf tier. I grab the tub of buttercream, slide the knife in, and work the frosting until it’s soft and malleable. If I lose my job, maybe Magnolia Bakery will hire me. I’ve always wanted to know how they get that swirl in their frosting perfect each and every time. Too bad I’ve burned everything I’ve ever cooked.
I slap the frosting on the top layer of the cake and scrape off the excess, working the buttercream just enough so it warms the already set layer of frosting underneath. Then I scrape it right back so some of the crumb beneath is showing. I repeat the actions with the bottom layer and with a little tweaking to the middle tier, it’s a distressed, shabby chic cake just like the one Claire always wanted. It’s nothing like the cake Chase made me order, but perhaps today is a good day for him to learn that you don’t always get everything you want.
“Okay, what now?”
“Now, you get changed, and we carry this thing to the damn ballroom before anyone notices what the hell has happened.”
I turn to give him some privacy, but for some reason Leo finds this hilarious. Ignoring him, I open the door a fraction and peak out. The hallway is eerily quiet. “Looks like our friend’s still out cold. Do you think maybe we should tell someone he’s there?”
“No, that would lead to questions we don’t need, and possible jail time. He’ll be fine.”
I turn and glower at Leo. His shirt is open with his bow tie slung around the collar. I’m having a hard time concentrating on what he just said because the hard lines of his stomach are seriously distracting. He buttons up. I pout. He grins. I scowl, then I step forward and pull him closer by either end of the bow tie. His eyes turn molten. “Little eager aren’t you, Pop Tart?”
“I’m not trying to kiss you, dumbass. I’m helping you with your bow tie.”
“Well, that’s mighty nice of you, but can we do that after we kiss?”
“No. You haven’t upheld your part of the bargain yet.”
“I knocked some small Maldivian man unconscious, stripped him naked, and got in his pants. I’d say I upheld my part of the bargain several times over.”
“The deal was that you’d help me get the cake to the ballroom. Then you’ll get your kiss.”
“You should know, no woman has ever stopped at just one kiss with me.”
I loop one end of the tie over the other, and pull it tight. Somehow, I fight the urge to choke him with it. “I think I’ll find some way to resist.”
“You can’t.” He grins, taking my hand from his tie and pressing a soft kiss to it. “I’m irresistible. Everybody says so.”
I roll my eyes and jerk my hand away. I nod toward the cake to indicate that he should pick up the other side of it. He works his hands underneath the board and takes its full weight. I scurry over to the door and open it, and within minutes we’re through the lobby, and placing it on the fresh linen cloth covering the cake table at the entrance to the ballroom.
“Where have you been?” Katherine demands as I begin pulling blush roses from the vase on the table. I snap off the stems and arrange the lush heads on top of the cake. Now it’s perfect. Katherine takes the empty vase I hand her and passes it off to Leo. “Claire’s been in full bridezilla mode wondering why we’re holding her guests hostage and won’t let them through the doors.”
“I’ve been finding us a new cake.”
“That isn’t anything like the one they ordered.”
“No, it’s not. But it is the one Claire has wanted her whole life,” I say.
Katherine looks suitably pissed. She didn’t think I could do it. She didn’t think I could pull this off.
“You might want to call Jacinta back and tell her I fixed everything.”
“Why don’t we let the bride and groom be the judge of that.” She gives me an acidic smile and pushes the doors open. An angry army of wedding guests and flustered staff greet us.
I gulp, and glance at Leo before heading into the lion’s den. I promised Jacinta I would fix it. Given that we had to kidnap, assault, and strip a man naked to do it—not to mention piss off one hundred and thirty wedding guests in the process—I may have just made the entire thing worse. Either way, there’s nothing to be done for it now.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Like I eat cake
Poppy
After I explained to everyone that there’d been an accident at the entrance to the ballroom which was finally cleaned up, the angry mob just dissipated. Some went back to dancing, and most everyone went back to drinking.
Now, the waitstaff wheel the table into the room. Claire and Chase are bombarded with guests gathering around as the happy couple prepare to cut the cake. Claire looks at her new husband with a worried expression on her face, and it’s clear they�
��re having a conversation. I bite my lip and weave through the crowd, but I stop in my tracks when her gaze zeros in on mine.
“You?” she mouths, her brows drawn together, and tears shining in her eyes. Frozen with fear, I can only give her a paltry smile. “Thank you.”
I swallow back the lump in my throat. I need to get out. I don’t know if I want to scream or cry or fall apart, but regardless, I can’t do it in this room with everyone watching. I turn and flee, running on my heels as fast as I can through the lobby, and finally the exit.
I push out of the heavy wooden doors into the humid, tropical night. The scent of sand and salt washes over me. My skin prickles with the warmth after so long in the air-conditioned resort, but it’s nice. I take a deep breath, exhale loudly, and the dam breaks. Fat tears spill down my cheeks. Not because I’m unhappy, but because for the first time in several months, I feel free. Free of the embarrassment, the shame, the heartbreak. I don’t feel a single thing for Chase anymore. I don’t know where Claire and I stand after what she did, but right now I don’t have the energy to think about it. I’m exhausted and relieved, and all I really want to do is curl up in my bungalow and sleep through the rest of the weekend. I’ve earned it after the last few days. I turn around, preparing to do just that, but Leo is standing there in the moonlight, looking every bit as devilish as he was in my room an hour ago.
My body is suddenly on high alert, and I swipe at my cheeks so he won’t see my tears. “I assume you’re here to collect.”
“Are you crying?”
“I’m fine—”
“You’re better than fine. You’re amazing, Poppy. Chase is an idiot. I’m an idiot. I’ve been an idiot for so fucking long.”
“Leo, what are you—”
“Just let me get this out,” he says. My brows practically shoot to my hairline in surprise. “I don’t do all this dating, and love, and wedding stuff or—I haven’t—but damn it, Pop Tart, you make me want that, with you. I want—”
“Stop talking,” I whisper as I move closer, and cover his mouth with my fingertips. Reaching up on my tiptoes, I grab his lapel, pulling him down to me. Then I lay one on him. I slide my fingers into his hair, thrust my tongue in his mouth and kiss him like ... well, I kiss him like I eat cake. Leo’s hands slide down my body to grip my ass. Confident he won’t let me fall, I jump and wrap my legs around his waist. He stumbles, my back hits the glass doors of the ballroom, and I cry out. He kisses my neck, my jaw, my collarbone, but then he dips his head and trails his tongue along the line of my cleavage. I gasp, wishing the fabric of my dress wasn’t in the way.
“Leo,” I pant, between kisses.
“Yeah?”
“I need you inside me.” Wow, I did not mean for those words to come from my lips. His wide-eyed gaze tells me he’s just as surprised as I am. He searches my face. His tongue darts out to lick his lips, and I wonder if I just screwed everything up. “Please say something.”
“I think I almost came in my pants.”
I burst out laughing. “What?”
“I’m dead-serious here, Pop Tart. You can’t say shit like that without me losing mine.”
I toy with the hair at the nape of his neck. “Okay, but you know I’d rather you just came inside me.”
Leo winces, and bites his bottom lip. “Jesus. Again, Poppy, really?”
I chuckle, and Leo grinds his erection against me. My laughter dies away, and a soft moan replaces it. “Are you going to make me wait?”
“I’m thinking about it,” he says breathlessly. “Yeah, you know what? Fuck waiting.”
“Fuck waiting,” I agree, and bring my lips down on his again. He lets the glass at my back take my weight as he slides a hand between us. My dress is bunched up around my hips. There’s too much fabric and I can’t see, but I can certainly feel. Leo rubs his hard length against me, and I thank God that I’m not wearing any panties. He teases me, sliding the smooth tip over my clit and then easing into my wetness. He only pushes in far enough to get me really worked up before slipping out and rubbing himself over that tight bundle of nerves again. I lose track of how many times he does this, but eventually I grow tired of him keeping me on the edge and I pull the hair at the back of his head. “Fuck you, fuck waiting. Fuck me, please, Leo?”
His low chuckle washes over my skin, causing me to break out in goosebumps. “God, have I told you how much your dirty little mouth turns me on?”
“Have I told you how violent I get when men deprive me of the things I want?”
“Oh, you want this?” he says, shoving his cock inside.
I throw my head back and hiss, “Yes. Oh, God yes.”
Leo groans as he slides all the way out, “Maybe I’ll make you beg.”
“Maybe I’ll shank you in your sleep,” I hiss. “I did almost kill a man tonight over a cake. Imagine what I could do when I’m all worked up and sexually frustrated.”
“Good point,” he says and slams inside, all the way to the root. I moan. Leo pivots his hips, bringing us a new closeness, and I scratch and claw at his tuxedo shirt to get closer. He pulls out and shoves back in, gripping my ass and driving his cock into me with a merciless rhythm, pushing me closer to the precipice. Fireworks explode behind my eyelids, but when I open them, I discover they’re not just on the inside. They’re lighting up the night sky. Oh shit. I forgot about the fireworks.
One by one wedding guests move outside through the open doors, drawn by the beauty in the sky but faced instead with the hard, hot reality of Leo thrusting in and out of me as they all look on in slack jawed horror. Chase’s Aunt Myrtle even swoons.
“Leo,” I pant, as he drives inside again, this time rougher than before. “Leo, wait.”
“Fuck, Pop Tart. If I knew your grumpy cat would feel this good around my cock, I would have quit tormenting you back in high school.”
“Leo,” I hiss. My mother and father, Leo’s mother and father, Claire, Chase, Jasper, Katherine, and all one hundred and thirty guests—give or take a few—are staring at the two of us instead of the fireworks, and Leo, oblivious to it all, continues jackhammering away.
My mother gasps. My father clears his throat, and thank God for small mercies, Leo finally stills. His eyes meet mine, and he breathlessly says, “There’s someone behind me right now, isn’t there?”
“Uh, yeah . . .” I swallow, hard. God, could my life be any more humiliating? “Everyone is behind you right now.”
“Shit,” Leo mutters. His hand moves between us and he pulls out of me. I miss the thickness and warmth of him straight away. I hurry to fix my dress. I can’t meet the eyes of anyone, but it’s apparent Katherine has reclaimed her jaw from the ground because she’s currently using it to draw the guests’ attention away from us and onto the fireworks. One by one, they eventually turn and as I watch them go, I wish the tide would come in and just rush me out to sea. To say I’m mortified would be a serious understatement.
I begin sinking toward the concrete when Leo grabs my hand. It’s sticky with my arousal, and I’d kind of like to pull away but it’s sort of nice to have someone hold my hand and share in my humiliation. He squeezes it once and leans in. “Come on.”
“Where are we going?”
“Somewhere we don’t have an audience,” he says and leads me toward my bungalow, but instead of having me walk beside him he picks me up and throws me over his shoulder.
Once inside, he sets me on my feet and I waste no time removing his shirt. I rip at it like a wildling, scratching, and clawing to get closer. I remove my dress and shoes and climb that man like a kitty up a tree, wrapping my limbs around him and digging my nails in his back so he can’t escape. He slams me into the wall. The picture frame shakes and falls, shattering on the blond hardwood floor.
“Shit,” I groan.
Leo trails kisses down my neck. “There goes your security deposit.”
“Maybe we should take this outside, where we can’t break anything.”
“Good idea.”
He slides his hands around my ass to support my weight and walks us through the bungalow to the private deck outside. He lays me down on the sunbed and unfastens his belt and unzips his fly. He shucks off his shoes, slips out of his pants, and hovers over me.
“Shit.” Leo stands, fishing his pants off the ground. He grabs a condom from his wallet and tears into the foil packet, rolling it over his long, hard cock. Thank God one of us is thinking straight now, because we had sex outside the ballroom without any protection and I’m not on the pill.
“Okay with you if we have foreplay later?”
“Totally,” I pant, as eager to have him inside me as he seems to be.
“Good, ’cause I’m going to eat you out on this daybed as the sun comes up, but right now I gotta fuck you, babe.”
“I’m going to hold you to that,” I say, taking hold of him and guiding him inside me. I’m plenty wet enough—it seems the last few months of aggression and back-and-forth banter have had me in a permanent state of arousal. Leo pulls out and slams back in. I cry out, far too loudly, and he clamps a hand over my mouth.
“You need to learn to keep that pretty mouth of yours shut, Pop Tart,” he says with a grin. I bite down on his hand, hard, and he chooses that moment to thrust harder. “Feisty.”
I laugh, but when he starts thrusting into me again, the laughter is quickly stolen by my breath catching in my throat. “Oh, you like that, huh? Like my cock filling your sweet, hot pussy?”
“Yes, God yes.”
“Good. Now hold on.”
I wrap my arms around his neck and stare into his pretty blue eyes. “What? Why?”
“Because I want you in the water.”
“Seriously?”
“It’s all I’ve been able to think about since we arrived.”
I shrug. “Well, it’s certainly not missionary.”
“Stick with me, Pop Tart, and you’ll never have missionary again.”
I hold on tight as he lifts us off the bed. I don’t know how he’s able to go from lying to standing with me in his arms, but I thank God for personal trainers everywhere.
Cake Page 13
