Bonus Chapter #2
The living room is strung with fairy lights and purple balloons, and there’s a banner that reads CAROLINA COSTA, BADASS SCIENTIST. Clearly Chiara’s doing, but from the tattoo-script lettering, I’m guessing Xander helped.
People keep arriving. Lab friends. Half of Clay and Joshua’s precinct. Faces I recognize, faces I don’t, all of them smiling at me like I did something miraculous instead of just being stubborn.
Somewhere along the way, there’s karaoke, and after the tenth congratulations, that starts to blur into the next, I slip away toward the kitchen side of the living room for a breather.
The bass from the karaoke machine thumps through the floor, vibrating up my legs as I reach for the chocolate cake—triple layer, glossy with a ridiculous amount of ganache. The smell of sugar and cocoa is grounding in a way that nothing else is.
For a moment, it’s just me, a plate, and the quiet relief of not having to perform.
“This song is for my kitten!” Clay’s voice cuts through the chatter, commandeering the mic again.
The opening piano chords of “Sweet Caroline” by Neil Diamond roll out, and the whole room erupts in drunken cheers, while my cheeks start to warm.
Idiot.
“Sweet Carolina…” he sings, dragging my name out. “… bum bum bum…”
I turn toward him with a smile, and he grins back, sleeves shoved up his muscled forearms, dimples absolutely weaponized.
I scoop a generous fingerful of frosting from my slice of cake and lift it to my mouth.
Then, without breaking eye contact, I lick it off slowly, sugar and chocolate melting on my tongue.
Clay completely loses the lyrics, quickly shoving the mic into the hands of one of the newer lab techs—poor guy sounds like a dying cat trying to finish the song—while Clay is already moving, stalking across the room toward me.
By the time he stops in front of me, the music is still blaring, the room still loud, but all I can see is him.
His eyes are blazing.
“Are you sending me subtle signals, kitten?”
I roll my eyes even as my pulse kicks up. “It’s called enjoying dessert, you animal.”
He snorts, stepping closer, effectively crowding me back against the counter so my hips bump the edge. “Animal, huh?” His gaze drops to my mouth, then to the chocolate still smeared on my finger. “Says the girl licking frosting like it’s foreplay.”
“Oh please,” I scoff. “If I wanted to get your attention, I’d do something obvious. Like breathe.”
He huffs a laugh. “Unfair. You know I’m weak to oxygen.”
Before I can fire back, he catches my wrist and brings my hand to his mouth. His tongue flicks out, dragging the pad of my finger clean in one slow, deliberate stroke.
My traitorous body immediately reacts, forcing me to suck in a breath.
He hums like it’s the best thing he’s tasted all day. “Fuck. That is good.”
“Congratulations,” I mutter. “You’ve discovered sugar.”
Then he dips two fingers into the cake himself, scoops up a thick smear of ganache, and holds it to my lips. “Open.”
I arch a brow, clinging to the last scraps of dignity. “There are forks, you know.”
“You already proved you don’t know how to use them,” he says sweetly, smirk firmly in place. “Now be a good girl and let me feed you.”
“Careful. You keep talking like that, and people are going to think you’re the problem.”
“Kitten.” His grin turns sharp. “I’ve always been the problem. You’re the one who keeps poking it.”
“Someone has to keep you humble.”
He laughs under his breath. “You’re doing a terrible job of that.”
I give him a mock frown but part my lips, and he slides his fingers in, letting me suck the chocolate off, tongue curling around the digits the same way I’d do lower if we weren’t still semi-public. His pupils blow wide, the teasing edge in his expression flickers into something hungrier.
When his fingers are clean, he leans in and licks a slow stripe across my bottom lip where a little frosting had smeared. Then he catches the corner of my mouth, sucking gently, tasting me and chocolate at once.
My hands fist in his shirt, while heat pools low and fast.
Oh, Dio.
“You taste better than the cake,” he murmurs against my lips. “Been thinking about getting my mouth on you since you walked off that stage in that little black dress under the gown. All prim and summa-cum-laude…”
I swallow. “People are literally ten feet away.”
“Yeah.” His thumb traces my jaw, tilting my face up. “Makes me wanna mark you up right here on the counter. Let ’em hear how pretty you sound when you’re trying to stay quiet.”
A shiver races down my spine. I can already feel how wet I am, thighs pressing together under the dress.
“Mean,” I whisper, but there’s no heat in it.
“Oh, you like it when I’m mean,” he shoots back, grinning against my mouth before he kisses me properly, one hand sliding to the small of my back to pull me flush against him so I can feel exactly how hard he is.
When he finally breaks away, his forehead rests against mine, our breaths coming hard.
“I’m so proud of you, my little ray of pitch black.” He steals one more quick, filthy kiss, then steps back just as Joshua appears next to him.
“Stealing her already?” Joshua asks mildly, but his dark eyes are molten and fixed on mine.
Clay shrugs, completely unrepentant. “Just making sure she doesn’t starve.”
I laugh despite the heat in my cheeks. “I’m fine. Promise.”
Joshua cups my face and kisses me softly, but no less claiming. When he pulls back he murmurs, “Good. You’ll need your energy.” Then he glances at Clay. “Behave. At least until they’re gone.”
Clay’s grin turns wicked. “No promises.”
They both look at me like I’m dessert, like the rest of the night is already mapped out in filthy detail.
And God help me—I can’t wait for the goodbyes.
The living room suddenly erupts in laughter and off-key cheering. I peek around Joshua and see Sophia and Howie at the karaoke machine, Sophia holding the mic, Howie looking equal parts mortified and delighted. The opening notes of “At Last” by Etta James spill out.
“C’mere,” Joshua murmurs, reaching for my hand and tugging me to him. “Dance with me, my Carolina.”
“Here?” I laugh, softly. “Now?”
“Here. Now.” He’s already moving, guiding me into the open space between the island and the refrigerator. His free hand settles on my waist, thumb brushing the silk of my dress. “You’ve been on your feet all day in those ridiculous heels. Kick ’em off.”
I don’t argue, stepping out of the black stilettos. The cool tile feels like heaven against my aching soles and I can’t help the sigh of relief that escapes my lips.
Joshua smiles. “Now stand on my feet.”
I raise a brow. “I’m not five.”
“You’re exhausted, and I want to hold you. Humor me.”
I roll my eyes but do it anyway, rising onto my toes and settling the balls of my feet on top of his shoes. One arm bands around my waist, the other cradles the back of my neck, and then he starts to sway like the music is just for us.
Sophia’s voice cracks on the high note, and Howie jumps in to save her, both of them laughing through the lyrics. The room is warm, golden, full of people who love me—but right now it’s just Joshua’s heartbeat under my cheek, his cinnamon scent, and the gentle rock of his body carrying mine.
“You were incredible today,” he whispers into my hair. “I’ve never been prouder.”
I tilt my head back to look at him. “You say that every time I breathe.”
“Still true.” He brushes his nose against mine. “Always true.”
After a few minutes of swaying, Clay leans against the refrigerator, arms crossed, smirking his damn smirk. “You guys done soon?”
Joshua doesn’t even look at him. “Jealous you didn’t think of it first?”
“Please.” Clay snorts. “I’d have her bent over the island by the second chorus.”
I hide my grin against Joshua’s chest when he turns us, and big hands slide under my arms. I’m lifted out of Joshua’s arms and set on the counter right next to the half-demolished chocolate cake.
“Hey—” I start, but Xander’s already crowding between my knees, hands braced on either side of my hips.
“You already have some?” he asks, nodding at the cake.
I lick my lips, still tasting Clay’s earlier kiss. “Yeah. Chocolate.”
Xander hums thoughtfully as he reaches past me, and scoops a generous dollop of pumpkin cream pie from the smaller plate. He brings it to my mouth and orders, “Open.”
Without hesitation, I part my lips, and he slides the fork in slowly, letting me taste the cinnamon and nutmeg, the cool cream melting on my tongue.
I can’t help the smug glance I shoot Clay over the fork. “See?” I say around the bite. “Xander knows how to use utensils. Very civilized. Not an animal at all.”
Clay snorts. “Give it five seconds.”
Before I can even close my mouth to savor the taste, Xander leans in and kisses me deeply, tongue sweeping in to steal the leftover sugar right from me. The fork clatters to the counter as my hands fist his black shirt, a soft sound slipping out of me before I can stop it.
He pulls back just enough to murmur against my lips, “Fork was just a courtesy, pumpkin.” Then he dips his thumb into the pie and drags it across my lower lip. “Don’t get it twisted.”
My thighs clench around his hips on instinct.
Clay lets out a low whistle. “Well. There it is.”
Joshua steps up beside us, sliding a hand up my thigh as he dips his head and catches my bottom lip between his teeth, sucking gently until my breath stutters.
They are out to kill me tonight.
But honestly, what a way to go.
“Mmm,” he murmurs against my mouth. “You’re being rude, Carolina. I want some cake too.”
I laugh breathlessly. “Get in line.”
Clay lets out a sharp exhale, eyes flicking between us. “I swear to God, I’m about five seconds away from grabbing the mic and announcing that the party’s over and everyone needs to leave immediately.”
Joshua smiles against my lip, entirely unbothered. “You started it.”
“I absolutely did not,” Clay argues. “She weaponized frosting.”