One Funeral (No Weddings #2)(47)
My breaths came in short bursts, my heart racing. All I could think of now was Cade’s massive cock. And all I wanted to do was see it. Touch it.
I swallowed hard, trying to catch my breath as aching heat pulsed between my legs. When he pulled back, I stared at him. All I could manage was a nod.
What was I nodding to? That yes, I did want to touch it? My thoughts fuzzed.
“That’s right, Hannah. We both know you want to, now. I hope it’s the only thing you think about all night.”
I forgot everything I’d been worried about. Oh, I was still stuck in my head all right. But my thoughts had definitely guttered. All I could think about now was petticoat lifting and other…huge…things. When the waiter went by again, I grabbed another Champagne flute.
Cade barked out a laugh, grabbing another too. He held it up near mine for a private toast. “To adventures together no matter where we go. Most especially in the bathroom.”
I laughed, shaking my head as we clinked glasses to the most ridiculous toast ever. And yet I couldn’t wait for the adventures to begin.
Most especially in the bathroom.
As soft classical music streamed in through a sound system, we ended our walk up the center aisle to take our places. The girls veered off to the left and stood together in a hot-pink taffeta explosion. The men, who’d escorted us in our walk of shame, peeled off to stand in a line to the right. Cade was to take his place on the end, next to Candie’s two brothers and her current flame-of-the-moment. Only Cade wouldn’t let go of my hand.
We continued straight toward the cake.
I tried to push him toward the other “groomsmen,” but his fingers were tangled with mine in an unyielding grip, keeping me glued by his side.
When we were inches from the enormous cake, Cade stopped. “Holy shit.”
I stared down with him.
Yes, I’d done a spectacular job on the cake. The unparalleled creation met with Candie’s exacting specifications, from the span of black-iced roses that formed a six-foot-long coffin to the wide, hot-pink icing ribbon that wrapped around the glittering box.
But Cade’s awestruck attention was drawn to what stretched inside the open cake-casket. I understood his shock. In fact, I stared right along with him in an odd mixture of wonder and horror.
He poked a rigid finger at it, pressing with enough force, I worried he’d left a fingerprint. “That is…”
“Sick? Gruesome? Morbid?” I supplied, the vomit of words flowing from my mind, gratefully instead of up from my stomach.
“So f*cking awesome.” His statement echoed. Laughter pealed out from in the front rows.
I scrunched my face, staring at the exact likeness of Candie, her fake-lashed eyelids shut and her hot-pink lips tilted upward, hinting at a smile. “It’s gross.” I shuddered.
“This isn’t a cake. What is it? Wax?”
I nodded. “She insisted on having her body in there. I have no idea what she’s going to do with it afterward. Put it in her guest room? Scare away burglars?”
Cade stepped behind me to the left, leaning over her as he angled in to get a look at the wax dummy’s body. “Wow. Right down to every last dimension, I bet.”
I shot him a deadpan look. “Really? Want to feel it up too?”
He snickered, stepping closer. His hot breath flowed over the shell of my ear. “No, Maestro. I only want to feel up one person. Shall we let the groping commence here? Or maybe you’re looking forward to our first bathroom run.”
My thoughts scattered, his warm breath overwhelming me. I closed my eyes as his lips brushed against my earlobe.
Someone’s cell phone rang, and I flinched. He chuckled softly into my ear before placing a kiss there, then pulled a more discreet distance away. “Later. You keep your naughty mind focused on later. And lifting and holding massive things.”
Loud music began pulsing from the overhead speakers, and Cade gave me a gentle shove toward the other girls in bright pink, their attention thankfully focused toward the guests and the back of the room.
The room buzzed with energy and whispers as the music changed. Like a human wave at a football game, everyone stood and turned toward the back as the classical wedding standard that had been playing shifted into an extended electric guitar chord, then a bass-thumping rock song.
I blinked. My gaze flicked over to Cade, and he grinned wide. Then he winked at me.
Ozzy Osborne’s “I Don’t Wanna Stop” blared as Candie appeared in the back doorway with an arm flourish beginning at her hip and unraveling upward toward the ceiling. A strapless, figure-hugging black dress covered in glittering sequins and beads flared out at her knees. She strutted in exaggerated slow steps down the aisle, basking in all the attention aimed at her.
As a deluge of laughter threatened to explode from me, I did what any certifiably insane person would do to avoid from cracking up. I glanced at Cade.
But Cade wasn’t staring at her. His gaze was locked onto me.
Rattled enough to forget my near outburst, I smiled.
He tilted his face down a fraction but never broke eye contact as he blasted a scorching look filled with promises of all things dark and naughty my way.
My panties melted on the spot. Thank God the evidence was buried beneath blinding taffeta and a mountain of tulle.
We stared at each other until Kiki nudged me, nodding toward Candie, who was glaring at me. Clearing my throat, I risked a final quick glance at Cade.