Chapter 18
Blaze
I give my girl a bath. This time, I do all the work, swatting at her hands when she moves them from the sides of the tub.
It’s hard to keep her leg out of the water, but she’s pretty good about propping her ankle on the edge of the tub.
The bandage shouldn’t leak, but I don’t want to take any chances by submerging it.
She giggles when I wash her feet. She moans when I move to her pussy.
And she cries out when I rub her clit to orgasm.
“You’re evil,” she informs me as I lift her wet body from the tub. I carry her to the bed, lay her on a giant towel, and pat her dry.
I head for the closet where I hung up her clothes. “Do you want to wear a dress?” I snag a sundress off a hanger and hold it up. She only has two. They still have the tags on them. I found this out when I unpacked her suitcase.
She giggles. “Do you want me to wear a dress?”
I smirk again as I approach her. “I don’t have strong opinions about dresses, but I will warn you, most of the wives will wear a dress to dinner. Not always, but often. Simple. Not elegant.”
“Okay.” She reaches for it. “Do you want to grab some panties and a bra for me, boss man?”
I hand her the dress. For some reason, I can’t keep from smirking again. I think I’ve perfected the look from watching my cousins.
I hesitate and cup her chin. “Do you always wear a bra?”
She bites her bottom lip, looking up at me. “Uh, no… Only when I’m wearing something that will show my nipples.”
“So usually you don’t.”
“Not in Portland. Not in winter. But this is Arizona. I wouldn’t wander around in a tank top with my nipples poking through the front.”
I lift the dress from her hands. “Do you need a bra with this?”
She draws in a deep breath. “I guess not. Do you care if everyone sees the pucker of my nipples?” She slowly grins, cocking her head to the side.
Chuckling, I shake my head. “No one but me cares about your tits, baby. The other men in this house have their own to worry about. I’m not saying I would expose your bare skin to my cousins, but I kind of like the idea of you squirming next to me at dinner and me being able to tease your tits while you eat. ”
I lower my hand from her chin to her breast, cup the small globe, and thumb her nipple. I do this a lot. I like how her breath hitches and she straightens her spine.
When she swats at my wrist, I lift a brow. “Careful there, naughty girl. I don’t think you want me to spank these buds again before we go downstairs.”
Grabbing her chin again, I kiss her lips. “I don’t think you need panties either.”
She gasps. “Blaze…”
I shrug. “Live on the edge with me, baby.”
“But this dress isn’t very long, and you’re going to carry me. That’s a bit too risky. If I were going to walk, maybe it would be fine. But you’d have to work hard to keep the skirt tucked under me.”
I sigh. “Good point. Fine. Panties. No bra.” I stride over to the dresser and open one of the drawers I’ve designated as hers to snag her a pair of panties.
After I hand them to her, I remain, staring at her. “You said you don’t usually wear dresses. The two I got out of your suitcase still had tags attached.”
She shrugs. “I didn’t have a lot of clothes that were appropriate for the hot climate this far south, so I stopped and bought a few things.
I picked up the dresses on a whim.” She grins.
“I’ll admit, I felt kind of defiant doing so.
I suspect my stepmom would have told me to put them back because I’m not girly enough for dresses. ”
“She’s a bitch.”
“Yeah. I’m seeing that now.”
I stroke my girl’s cheek. “You’ll wear whatever makes you feel happy from now on. If that’s dresses, we’ll get a dozen more.”
“Okay,” she whispers.
I turn toward the closet to grab clothes for myself.
My naughty girl calls out, “What? You’re going to let me dress myself.”
I glance over my shoulder as I remove my shirt and then my jeans. I don’t care that she sees me in my briefs. In fact, I like how she licks her lips. Salivating over me.
“That elastic is going to hurt on your sore ass if you keep sassing me, Victoria,” I warn as I pull khaki pants up my legs.
She giggles. “Promises, promises.”
Even though I cropped her nipples and her clit, the only slaps her bottom has received were a few well-placed swats. Not a real spanking.
Soon.
By the time I have a light-blue, button-up shirt on, she’s dressed. I chose the shirt to go with her dress. She notices right away. “We match.”
“Yep.”
“Are we going to be one of those couples?”
I chuckle. “Maybe.” After grabbing my shoes and socks, I sit on the edge of the bed to put them on.
“I need to do something with my hair,” she declares.
“Oh, I borrowed a tabletop vanity mirror from Arianna. Hang on.” I find everything I think she might need in the bathroom, return to the bedroom, and set the mirror on the nightstand. It’s kind of low, but after a bit of angling, she can see her reflection in it.
When I sit next to her, she leans her head against my shoulder, making no move to fix her hair. “You’re spoiling me.”
I kiss the top of her head. “Haven’t I told you my secret plan?”
“What’s that?”
“Spoil the hell out of you so that you think there is no man on Earth who would ever treat you as well. Then you’ll agree to marry me and have my babies, and we’ll live happily ever after.”
She tips her head back, grinning. “When do you pull the bait and switch?”
“Never, baby. Never.”
I only agree to let Victoria sit at the table without putting her leg on another chair because we’re having spaghetti. It’s too messy for her to sit sideways.
Her eyes are still glossy from holding back tears. Not that she didn’t cry. Her emotions totally got the better of her when we entered the dining room. That was when she smelled red sauce right before I told her Gretchen had made spaghetti.
Tears fell. Lots of them. She couldn’t stop them. I think I broke her in that moment. In a good way. Like there was a hesitancy she was maintaining, and a chunk of it vanished.
Yeah, I’m working hard to please her, but I’m serious when I tell her I will do so for the rest of her life. I’ll never stop doing everything in my power to please her.
When I look at her, I just know. It’s deep in my soul. It’s not up for debate. I can’t explain it. I don’t have any rationale for how it happened so fast.
I know her better than any woman I’ve ever dated, and I’ve known Victoria for two days. Not even that long. Plus, she slept a lot of that time.
As we all take our seats, I watch her. Victoria’s giggling with Claire and Emilia.
She fits in here. She belongs. I’m out of my body, floating, observing.
My girl is going to be happy here. I know it.
I can picture a day in the future when all these women are round with child, and she’s among them, her belly stretched so huge she can hardly stand without falling over.
I’ll need to rub some fancy, expensive lotions on her stomach every night to help with the stretching. Not for aesthetics but to keep her comfortable. Is there such a thing?
She’ll always be gorgeous to me, no matter what size she is or how her body responds to pregnancy.
She keeps laughing as she eats her spaghetti. Noodles hit her chin. Red sauce would be all over her dress if she weren’t leaning forward. This is the fun part, the reason her stepmother never served it. It’s messy. Fuck that woman. My girl can be messy.
We aren’t formal here. The Wilde grandkids might become rich in the long run when we receive our inheritances, but none of us are pretentious. We weren’t raised that way, and neither were any of our spouses.
This mansion is going to be filled with love and laughter. It’s going to be loud. It already is, and that’s before we add crying babies. They will be messy. They will eat spaghetti. With their fingers.
I chuckle at the visual.
Victoria turns to me, smiling. “What’s so funny?”
I reach with my napkin and wipe a smudge of red sauce from her chin before pushing her chair back, lifting her, and settling her on my lap. I prop her injured leg on the seat she vacated and wrap my arms around her.
My lips come to her ear. “I was picturing our kids eating spaghetti in their high chairs. It will be all over the floor and the walls. They’ll use their fingers.
They’ll rub it in their hair. They’ll throw it across the room.
It’s what kids do. And we’ll laugh and clean them up afterward.
I’ll toss them into the bathtub and shampoo their hair while you nurse the youngest.”
Both my arms are around her, holding her tight, and I discreetly stroke her nipple with my thumb. The dress does a pretty good job of hiding her erect buds, but I’m aware of them.
Sexy. As. Fuck.
She whimpers in my arms. “Blaze…” Her voice is soft and filled with emotion. She wipes a tear from her eyes. A happy tear.
Isabel comes in and sets a giant tray of cannoli in the middle of the table.
“Oh man, that looks so good. I’m going to get fat here,” Victoria says.
Reagan laughs. “Girl, we’re all going to get fat here.” She pats her stomach. “That’s what happens when relentless bossy men do everything in their power to keep us barefoot and pregnant.”
I love the way Victoria giggles. I know she’s nervous about being pregnant. Hell, she’s even stressed about having sex. But the idea is growing on her. She didn’t wince this time.
I whisper in her ear again, “I made an appointment with Kinsley for tomorrow.”
She inhales sharply. “To check up on my leg?”
After sliding one of my hands between her thighs, I bring my fingers to her pussy. No one can see what I’m doing under the table, plus they’re all kinky fuckers anyway. Half of them have probably had sex in this fucking dining room.
With my lips on her ear again, I respond, “No, baby, to check on your hymen.” I tap her clit over her panties. I’m really loving the dress, and I think she likes wearing it, too.
She shudders. “Blaze,” she hisses, keeping her voice low. “I assumed you were kidding about that. I don’t need a doctor to verify my virginity. I’m aware of it.”
I chuckle. “I don’t give a fuck about you being a virgin, naughty girl, and you know it. You’re worried about how much it will hurt when I thrust my cock into you. We’ll find out what Kinsley thinks.”
I reach around my girl, snagging a cannoli and bringing it to her lips.
When she tries to lift her arms, I shake my head. “Keep your hands in your lap, baby.”
She leans in and takes a bite. A second later, she moans. “Damn, that is so good. Gretchen is a genius in the kitchen.”
“Thank you, dear,” Gretchen says, materializing behind us to clear up some plates, “but I can’t take credit for the cannoli.
Claire’s parents own a bakery. They made those.
I may be pretty good at a lot of breads and desserts, but when you sink your teeth into pastries around here, often they come from Kennett’s Bakery. ”
Claire laughs. “I’m pretty sure I lured Ryder into my heart by bringing him pastries the day after we met.
That first day, I wasn’t very polite to him.
I was filled with vinegar, afraid the town was about to collapse, thinking he and his family would come to Wilde and ruin it.
I brought pastries here the next morning. ”
“And I licked cherry jelly from your fingers,” Ryder adds with a snicker.
“Good Lordy,” Gretchen mutters as she returns. “That story always makes the hair stand up on my arms.”
“Why’s that?” Victoria asks.
Gretchen sighs. “I forgot to give these youngsters napkins.”
Ryder belly laughs. “I think sucking my girl’s fingers clean is why she married me, so thank goodness we didn’t have napkins.”
Claire groans. “Good grief.”
What I know is that Victoria’s smile is huge, and she leans her head on my shoulder. I don’t think she ever had this kind of family interaction. She’s pleased, and that makes my heart beat faster.