Axel (Carolina Reapers 1)

“I thought you’d appreciate me taking care of my part of the bargain,” I countered as we hit max altitude. I undid my seat belt and took off my tux jacket, offering it to her.

“Thank you,” she mumbled and shoved her arms through it. “You smell ridiculously good,” she accused.

I laughed. “Only you could make that sound like an insult.”

“I just…” She shook her head. “Figured Vegas was the best place to spend our wedding night.”

My dick jumped against the material of my boxer briefs.

“I told you this wasn’t about sex,” I said quietly, letting my lips brush the shell of her ear.

She shivered. “Well, it should certainly be a perk!”

Hell no, it wasn’t a perk. Sex wasn’t something to be thrown around lightly when it came to her. I wanted Langley under me more than I wanted air, but I wasn’t giving in, not when she saw it as simple physical gratification. I wasn’t going to push inside my gorgeous, eager wife until she wanted me for the same reasons I wanted her, until she was so hungry for me that she practically vibrated with the same need that had clawed at me for the last year.

“You hyphenated your name,” I said, effectively changing the subject.

“Well, yeah. I wasn’t taking yours just to have to switch everything back around in six months.” Her eyebrows rose. “Wait, did you think I was going to take yours?” She whispered. “Oh, God, Axel, I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”

My lips pressed against her forehead. “No, min enda kärlek,” I said against her soft skin. “I thought you’d keep only Pierce. Finding my name attached to yours on the license was a wonderful surprise.”

She’d kick my ass if she knew how much male satisfaction I’d gained from the sight. She’d claimed herself as a Pierce equally as a Nyström, which damn near broke my resolve on the sex issue. At this rate, I’d give in before sunset.

“Mr. Nyström, are you ready?” the flight attendant asked with a bright smile.

“Yes, now, please,” I answered. “Come with me,” I said to Langley, taking her hand once she’d unbuckled and leading her back to the soft, leather couch. The coffee table in front of us held a plate with a knife that earned a skeptical look from Langley.

“What is this about?” she asked.

“Congratulations,” the flight attendant said before I could answer, reappearing with her partner. She held a bottle of champagne and two flutes, while the other attendant held out a rectangular box marked Sin City Cupcakes.

“Thank you,” I said as I took the cupcake box and handed it to Langley. “I figured you’d want a say in our wedding cake, so there are twelve different flavors in there.” The way her expression softened was well worth the effort of making the call. Everything about her was worth the effort.

“That was really thoughtful of you,” she said quietly as I took the champagne and glasses.

The attendants both retreated to a respectful distance, and once we were alone again, I set the glasses on the coffee table and opened the champagne. The pop caught Langley by surprise, and she laughed as I poured the bubbly stuff into the glasses.

“Did you choose yet?” I asked.

“I think so.” Her fingers danced over the open box like she was playing a game of musical chairs, and wherever her digits landed, we’d find her choice. “Red velvet!”

She took her selection and placed it on the plate.

“Good thing I’m in this dress now,” she muttered as she ditched my jacket. “Because when I devour those cupcakes, I’ll never fit in this thing again.”

I laughed as she removed the cupcake liner.

“Okay, we do this part together, so give me that giant hand of yours,” she ordered.

I reached over her hand, which already held the knife, and she sliced through the cupcake once, twice, three times.

“In my country, the guests cut their own cake,” I remarked as my hand slid from hers.

“In your country, the minute the bride steps out of the room, the women line up to kiss the groom. Guess what, that’s not happening here, either.” She waggled the blunt knife at me before putting it on the plate. “In all honesty, Axel, it meant the world to me that you went by so many American traditions. Even if this is only temporary.” Her eyes fell to her dress.

“Even if,” I muttered, a heaviness descending on my stomach. “I had fun watching Lukas and Faith mingle their traditions, but I wanted you to have what you wanted.”

“Which means you’ll let me feed you cake.” We locked eyes, and she smiled slowly, biting her lower lip.

“You can feed me whatever you want, but I feed you first. Always.”

“You’re kind of a Neanderthal, you know that?” She grinned, reminding me that the first time she’d called me that, it hadn’t been a compliment.