Curvy Fake Wife for the Player

23. Alex

Chapter 23

Alex

“ G o on, taste it.” I held a fork of red velvet cake with a tangy buttercream frosting out to Sasha who looked like I was holding nuclear waste for her to taste. “Go on. Don’t be shy.”

The way she bit down on her bottom lip was enough to make my cock stand at attention. She was hesitant and I couldn’t understand why. Just yesterday I’d kissed the hell out of her and she’d clung to me like I was hers, like all of this was real. That was before she ran away like her ass was on fire.

“I can do it myself.”

“Of course you can,” I replied and rolled my eyes. “But there’s a piece right here already. Taste it,” I urged and pushed the fork closer until the frosting touched her lips. “Please.”

She licked the frosting from her top lip and every inch of me was hard and aching, ready to relive the last time I’d had her naked and spread out before me. “Fine.” Sasha’s lips parted into a sinful ‘o’ and I groaned as I slid the fork between her lips. “Mmm,” she moaned, her blue eyes wide with appreciation. “Very good.”

I leaned forward with a conspiratorial smile. “Think we can get some of this buttercream to go?” I wiggled my eyebrows until she laughed.

“I’m sure if you use your charm, she’ll give you a bucket of it.”

I leaned back with a laugh. “A bucket? That’s ambitious, but I’m up for the challenge.”

“Okay.” The pastry chef appeared at the small round table with another set of dessert plates in his hands. “This is German chocolate cake. It’s not traditional for a wedding cake, but I was told it was the bride’s favorite. I didn’t like the way he eyed Sasha with a flirty smile, but I reigned in my temper. All of this effort would be useless if I decked the guy tasked with making our wedding cake.

“Really?” Her blue eyes were wide as she smiled at me. “You told him?” She practically danced in her seat, clapping her hands giddily. “I’ve never had German chocolate cake made by a professional before.”

The chef was so pleased that he served her first, not the famous athlete, but I was fine with it. Sasha had this way about her, of making everyone feel good, from egotistical chefs to even more egotistical hockey players.

“I hope it meets your expectations,” he told her and disappeared to give us time to taste and decide.

This time, Sasha didn’t have to be asked to taste the cake, she took one bite and then another, and then another, moaning louder with every bite. “Oh. My. God. This is perfect. Absolutely perfect.”

I stared at her face, lit up with excitement over cake. I couldn’t remember the last woman I was with who even noticed the food beyond its calorie and carb count. “Absolutely perfect?”

She nodded and her face split into a smile. “Oh yeah. Taste it,” she said and held her fork out to me.

I didn’t wait, I held her wrist and slid the cake from the fork, my gaze never leaving hers. “Holy shit, that is good.”

“Right?” She looked down at her plate with a frown when she found it empty and slid her arm across the table to steal my plate.

I gripped her wrist and arched a brow. “What do you think you’re doing?”

She blinked innocently. “I’m cake tasting. Duh.” One finger hooked over the edge of the plate and pulled it closer.

“My cake.”

“Our cake,” she smiled. “We’re engaged, remember?”

“Okay,” I agreed. “You can have some.”

She relaxed and pulled the plate closer when I grabbed the other edge. Sasha frowned. “You said I could have some.”

“I did, but only if you let me feed you.” It wasn’t right to play with her this way, but it was so fun. Sasha was running from whatever was happening between us and I couldn’t blame her. This attraction between us could be fun, or it could make the next two years incredibly complicated.

She rolled her eyes skyward. “The things I do for cake.”

“Well now I’m curious, Sash. What things do you do, or would you be willing to do, for cake?”

“Let you feed me,” she whispered when I slid the fork between her lips. “For starters.” She giggled when I growled in sexual frustration.

“Funny.”

She shrugged. “I thought so.”

“I’m marrying a comedian,” I grumbled and held out another forkful of cake for her. “Lucky me.” Sasha leaned forward to take the cake and I switched it out for my lips, kissing her again because I’d waited long enough. It had been too long, more than twelve hours since I had a taste of her and I was starving.

She froze but quickly leaned into me, cupping one side of my face as she deepened the kiss this time. She moaned as she sucked on my tongue, wrapping her fingers through my hair with another moan. She pulled back, face flushed and lips swollen.

“Maybe you’re on to something with that buttercream.”

I groaned.

Sasha laughed.

We settled on the German chocolate for our wedding cake, because like every other groom-to-be on the planet, I just wanted to make my woman happy. “I’ll go put down the deposit,” I told her gruffly, adjusting the evidence of my arousal before the cameras just outside the window caught a glimpse of me with a hard on.

“I recommend the four tier, but we can go bigger if you like,” the chef recommended with a smile.

“Let’s do five since Sasha loves it so much. And do me a favor, add one two layer cake to be delivered to this address every week until the wedding. Is that something you can handle?”

The chef smiled. “Of course. Who am I to stand in the way of a man and his true love?”

True love? I didn’t correct his assumption because what else was he supposed to think? In fact, that was exactly what we were hoping the whole world thought. It was the point of all of this, never mind that hot as fuck kiss I laid or her, or maybe she’d laid it on me. “That’s right,” I finally settled on before going back to the table for Sasha.

“Everything good with the Chef?”

I nodded. “Perfect. Ready to go?” I held a hand out and she slipped her smaller hand in mine with a grin.

“You know, Alex, we could get two smaller cakes so there’s something you like too. This is your wedding as well.”

When had a woman ever put my needs and wants first outside of the bedroom? Sasha really was something else. “And miss out on the sounds you make when you eat that cake? Not a chance.” She blushed prettily and bumped her shoulder against mine, or tried to with our massive height difference.

“So you want me moaning all during our wedding night, huh?”

“Fuck yeah,” I sighed and guided her inside the back of the waiting car. “More than anything, Sash.”

She sucked in a sharp breath, eyes wide and nostrils flared at my words. “Alex,” she began, but the sound of my phone ringing stopped whatever she was about to say.

“Yeah?”

The voice on the other end of the call belonged to man. It was deep and gruff, and unfamiliar to me. “Alex Witter?”

I frowned. “Who’s asking?”

“I’m Raul, the investigator Jack hired. I have news and he said you should be the first to hear it.”

I laughed. “Now I know you’re full of shit. Jack would never let anyone know something he didn’t already know.”

The man tried for a laugh but it was forced. “He said you would say that, and he also said, you’re a big boy pretty boy, you decide what to do with the info.”

Okay that sounded like Jack. “I’m listening.”

There was a long silence before the man spoke again.

“Who is it?” Sasha mouthed the words, her gaze focused on my face.

“I found Miriam Juliet Winters.”

“You did.” It was like a weight had just lifted from my shoulders. “Where is she? Do you have her contact information?”

“Yes and no,” Raul hedged. “I found her at Sandstone Memorial Cemetery, her new home as of three weeks ago.”

Shit. “Do you have anything else on her?”

“Yes. I’ll be in Houston the day after tomorrow and I’ll deliver the file I’ve put together on her.”

“Thank you, Raul. I appreciate it.”

“Of course. My condolences.” He ended the call before I could say anything, which I was grateful for, because what the hell would I say?

“Are you okay, Alex?”

I shook my head. “That was the investigator. Dixie’s mom died three weeks ago.”

“Oh no!” She slid closer and wrapped me in a tight hug. “I’m so sorry, Alex. This is horrible.”

“No,” I growled. “What’s horrible is that I still don’t remember her. The name doesn’t ring any bells, and if I close my eyes, I can’t see her face. How fucked up is that?”

She shrugged. “What does it matter? Do you remember every woman you’ve slept with?” Her dark brows arched playfully at the question.

“No,” I sighed and shook my head. “But this is different.”

“Why, because she got pregnant?”

I nodded and tried to put some distance between us but the stubborn woman would allow it. “Yeah. Obviously.”

“Bullshit,” she said and gripped my chin, forcing our gazes to lock. “This woman was Dixie’s mother and it’s okay if that’s all she ever means to you. She left you with a wonderful gift and you can love her for that or just be grateful.”

“Miriam Juliet, that’s her name,” I said like that mattered at this point.

“Okay, well learn what you can about Miriam Juliet so that you can tell Dixie what there is to know about her.”

I laughed bitterly. “What if she asks if I loved her mother?”

“Then you tell her the truth, that you’ll always love her for bringing Dixie into your life but that her dear old dad was a big slut and didn’t do love.”

I frowned and Sasha laughed. “Great parenting talk, Sash.”

She shrugged. “You know, or something like that.” She laid her head on my shoulder. “I really am sorry, Alex. I know you were hoping to find her alive.” Her hand slid up and down my thigh, the move meant to be comforting rather than arousing.

“So much for answers.”

“Maybe not. See if she has any family or left behind any keepsakes that you can save for Dixie when she’s older.”

I nodded absently. It was a good idea and I would text Raul later, for now I just wanted to bask in her easy affection. “Thank you, Sasha.”

She pulled back and looked up in confusion. “For what?”

“For being you. For just being here. Thank you.”

“Of course. No matter what else is going on, Alex. We’re a team.”

“A pretty good one,” I agreed and wrapped an arm around her, unable to resist pressing my lips to that sexy smile of hers.