Vegas, Baby - Volume 2

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.Baby, I Do1AuroraI 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?”