Chapter 16
Declan Buchanan
When Karey declares she’s ready to return to work the next day, I announce an outing and usher her toward the front door. She stops and demands an explanation.
“We need rings,” I say.
She crosses her arms over her chest and gives me a skeptical look.
“Just rings, right? You won’t drop onto a knee in public, right? I don’t need that. Actually, I’d hate that,” she says.
My bubbly cupcake was always happiest when her efforts went toward spotlighting someone else. I gather her into my arms and brush my lips over her temple.
“As long as I can kiss you at the altar in front of everyone we know, I can skip the public proposal,” I relent.
“Fine… I still need to change, though,” she demands.
I groan and fill my hands with her ass.
“You’re right. I’d probably massacre half of New York City if you went out in these leggings,” I whisper in her ear.
“You’re just hard up because we haven’t had sex in a week,” she whispers right back.
“Baby, I told you I’m a hungry man. Even after a feast, I still want to gorge on cupcakes.”
Her blush arrows straight to my balls. I reluctantly let her go when she slips out of my hands.
“Sorry, beast. I may be ready to go back to work, but that doesn’t mean I’m ready to be eaten. You’ll have to wait a little while longer,” she says in a sing-song voice as she strides down the hall.
I curse, but there’s no heat behind it. As long as she’s happy, healthy, and by my side, I’ll accept having blue balls.
I’m obsessed with her. Always have been. Always will be.
I consider a quick shower to rub one out, but the thought holds no appeal. I’d rather the pressure build than take matters into my own hands. Although, the thought of a mutual masturbation session gives me a raging hard on.
I’ll have to suggest the idea when she isn’t preparing to grace the public with her beautiful self. Possessive fury demands her blushes be for me and only me.
I join her in the master closet and base my clothes off her selection. A simple, flowy dress with a low neckline and asymmetrical skirt highlights her curves in a playful, elegant style. I choose casual—jeans, button-down, and loafers—and wait for her to choose her footwear.
My mouth waters as she leans down to slip on her sandals and offers me a stunning view of her cleavage. I long to bury my face in and fill my hands with her delicious breasts, but she rises and announces she’s ready.
Her ass should be illegal. I adjust my stiff cock as I follow her down the hallway.
I hold her hand as I weave through traffic, and even after I pull up to the valet, I don’t let her go.
She stops trying to open her door when I squeeze her hand. She sighs and waits for me to walk around and help her out of the vehicle.
As we step into the most expensive jewelry store in New York City, I lean down and murmur in her ear so only she can hear.
“You have to let me be a gentleman now so I don’t feel guilty when I ravage you like a savage beast later.”
She chokes and playfully swats my arm.
“You’re too much,” she whispers.
Fuck, her blush is straight from my wet dreams.
We wander around for a while before an attendant approaches us. Karey looks around but doesn’t seem overly excited about one style more than any other.
After several minutes of aggressive sales pitches, she turns to me and shrugs, but the frustration and worry in her eyes twists my stomach.
“I’m sorry, I just want simple,” she says.
I look at the selections for the first time, my attention having been too focused on Karey’s facial expressions and overall reactions for me to have noticed before, and understand her dismay.
As much as I long to buy her the biggest, shiniest monstrosity so anyone in the same zip code as her will know she belongs to me, I can’t encumber her with something so flashy if it’ll feel like a burden.
None of these sets look like something a normal person would wear.
Impractically big and ridiculously ornate, they all scream pompously rich.
They don’t match Karey’s personality at all.
The attendant hasn’t listened to any of Karey’s requirements. I should have demanded a different attendant from the start. This woman took one look at my cupcake and assumed she was a pity case.
All she wants is to get as much commission as possible from the least desirable items in the store.
I press my palm on the glass counter and lean toward the woman.
“I only want to see pieces over a million each. Elegant and unique. Only natural diamonds. Can you handle that?”
She swallows and gives me a skeptical once-over.
I pull my wallet out of my pocket and hand my black card to Karey.
“This is yours now, cupcake. No limits.”
“What if I buy the whole store just so I can smash all these monstrosities?” she asks in the super bubbly, innocent voice she uses with clients.
Fucking hell, I love her viciousness.
“Go ahead. You could buy all the jewelry stores in New York City and still have plenty of play money,” I shrug.
The attendant backtracks and hurriedly pushes the ugly sets aside before offering us a lounge while she retrieves suitable pieces.
Karey shakes her head. I don’t blame her. The thought of being in a small room with a saleswoman who doesn’t understand basic etiquette makes my skin crawl on both a professional and personal level.
As the attendant scurries away, Karey nudges me.
“Can we just go somewhere else? I don’t care how much money you have; I don’t want to waste it on this.” She gestures to the display counters.
I chuckle and lean down to murmur in her ear, “Whatever my cupcake desires.”
I turn her toward the door and take three steps before a voice stops her in her tracks. Her entire body jerks as though someone poured ice down her shirt.
“Oh look, the chatty fatty got herself a new pimp,” the annoyingly high-pitched voice says from a few paces away at the counter.
“A penniless pimp, by the looks of it,” a male adds.
“Of course he’s penniless if she’s the merchandise,” the bitch giggles.
A red haze falls over my vision.
Karey recovers with impressive speed and spins around with an eerily happy smile on her face.
“Oh Em Gee, it’s so nice to see you, Lydia.” She gives her a surprised once-over. “I heard you chose a different clinic this time, and I must say it was worth it. I can hardly tell you just had your nose done. And did you get another boob job? They look a lot more even this time.”
The bitch sputters.
“Careful, Lydia, that much spit can make the floor wet. We wouldn’t want another accident, would we?”
She turns to me without so much as a breath.
“Hey, did I ever tell you about the time Lydia pushed me off the bleachers in high school? I tumbled down two entire sets before catching my stomach on the bottom of the railing. I vomited blood for days, but her dad paid off the school, so they never reported it. Isn’t that crazy?”
Lydia stomps her high heel.
“You can’t prove—”
“I don’t need to, you fake-ass bitch,” Karey says with a sudden switch of personalities. “I was there and so were you and Oscar. Speaking of, are you still suckling on daddy’s tit, Oscar, or has he disowned you yet since you can’t keep your microdick in your pants?”
The idiot puffs up his chest and steps forward then thinks better of it when I place my body in front of his.
The attendant returns. Karey steps around me and leans against the counter. She glances at the new items and slides the black card across the glass.
“All except for that one.” She points to one with dozens of tiny diamonds lining the band. “and if you sell to either of these individuals, I will never buy from here again,” she promises.
The bitch sputters once more.
“I just ordered a custom—”
The manager, having overheard Karey, steps in.
“No, miss. You did not. Your down payment will be refunded. Please use the exit behind you.”
Lydia shrieks and launches herself at Karey. I lunge forward.
Karey ducks, grabs Lydia’s wrist, and surges upward. Lydia’s stomach collides with Karey’s shoulder. She flips head over heels, lands halfway on the glass counter, then slides off the other side to crumple in a heap on the floor.
Karey brushes her hands together and steps toward Oscar.
He stands with shock and warped interest on his face.
“Oscar?” Karey begins.
He blinks.
“You have three choices,” she warns.
He blinks again.
“Me,” she jabs a thumb at her chest. “Him,” she points at me. “Or the exit.”
The bell over the exit rings before Lydia even picks herself up off the floor. Security arrives and hauls her out onto the sidewalk with ease.
My cupcake slides her arms around me and plasters her front to mine. I wish I could have flattened the asshole, but Karey’s viciousness draws me to her impossibly more.
With a happy hum and an impressed glance at the idiots’ retreating backs, I ask, “Where’d you learn that move?”
“Mr. Carter’s gym. I’ve been taking self-defense classes for years. I can’t believe I haven’t introduced you to the ladies yet. They’re amazing friends.”
Her eyes sparkle as she speaks, telling me everything I need to know about the community.
“Then we’ll have to invite them to our wedding,” I say.
Adoration lights up her face.
I’m a fucking goner. She’s gorgeous.
I can’t wait to adore and pamper her for the rest of my life.