Cake: The Newlyweds: Cake Series Book Four

by J. Bengtsson

  Pulling up next to him, I asked, “Can you swim to your jet ski?”

  “Can’t swim.” The man was panting something fierce. “Too fat.”

  I fought the urge to laugh at his straightforward comment. He was a big guy, no doubt, but all of his weight was carried smack dab in the middle of the most magnificent beer belly I’d ever laid eyes on. He could have been carrying septuplets in there. I had to give the guy some credit – that kind of extended gut required a lifelong commitment.

  “Okay, hang on. I’ll go get your jetski.”

  Trying to maneuver one machine while riding another wasn’t easy, and by the time I returned, the guy had propped himself up onto the footboard of Casey’s jetski and the two were having a full-on, lighthearted conversation complete with unbridled laughter. Did she have to make friends with everyone?

  “…and with all those girls,” she said, shaking her head at her new buddy. “That’s impressive.”

  You know what else was impressive? Me… dragging a 600-pound jetski through the water with one hand!

  Casey finally acknowledged my presence, her eyes sparkling with enthusiastic wonder. “Jake, Tony’s on his twenty-fifth anniversary. He and his wife have four daughters. He was hoping to get a picture with you to show his girls. Isn’t that sweet?”

  I wiped the sweat off my forehead with the back of my hand, struggling to find the joy in Tony’s awesome home life. What the hell did I care how many years he’d been married or how many children he’d sired? The fact remained he was cock-blocking me on my honeymoon.

  “Yeah, awesome. Can you pull yourself up onto the seat?”

  “Man, I can barely get off the toilet.”

  Casey laughed like he was some top-rated stand-up comic before looking back at me to confirm my reaction was similar to hers. It wasn’t. Not even close. This guy was wasting my time. I could be back at the hotel getting it on with my new wife; but no, I had to save his sorry ass first.

  “You can at least try to lift yourself up, right?”

  “I guess I could try. If it’ll make you happy.”

  Tony acted like he was doing me a huge favor, when in reality, he was the one in imminent danger of sinking to the ocean floor like the anchor of a fishing vessel. Although I had to admit, that belly of his was floating nicely. Tony heaved and grunted, his plumber’s crack on full display. And, like passing by a car accident with bodies littering the road, I couldn’t look away. That hairy line of fur, which presumably had started somewhere up his back, disappeared between the whitest butt cheeks I’d ever seen.

  It wasn’t until he’d extracted about two inches of his body out of the water, that my eyes diverted back to the task at hand. It had been a gallant effort, but after twenty seconds of trying, Tony sank back down into the water like a seal sliding off a buoy. “Yeah, sorry, Jake. It’s not happening. I need a damn forklift.”

  Was he using my name like we were old buds? Minutes earlier he’d been chasing after me like some creeper. Tony swiped his hand over his polished head. Still sporting tufts of hair on the sides, he was the type of bald that wasn’t fully committed to the cause.

  “You’re going to be fine, Tony,” Casey said soothingly, before turning to me and lowering her voice. “He’s going to drown, isn’t he?”

  “No, he’s not going to drown. If I have to, I’ll drag him through the water.”

  “Why don’t you just wait with him and get the pictures out of the way, and I’ll go get help?”

  “Pictures?” My voice raised a pitch. I was saving his life. Wasn’t that enough?

  “For his daughters. Geez, Jake. It’s his anniversary. Just wait here. I’ll be back soon.”

  “No way. What if you fall in? There are fish in the water, remember?”

  “Fine. Then I’ll wait and you get help.”

  “I’m not leaving you with some stranger.”

  “He’s not a stranger,” she protested. “It’s Tony.”

  “No. He’s definitely a stranger. Jesus, Casey. How have you survived this long?”

  She rolled her eyes at me as if I were the unreasonable one.

  “Anyway, we stick together or let him drown. Your choice.”

  “Um…hello… hi,” Tony waved from his sunken position. “I can actually hear you.”

  “Relax,” I said. “She picks you.”

  After a comedy of errors, which included me jumping into the ocean and attempting to forcibly shove his ass up and out of the water, I devised a new plan. With Casey holding onto my jetski, I transferred over to Tony’s. Standing up for better leverage and height, I leaned down and offered him my hand. “On the count of three, lift yourself up.”

  By the time I said three, I’d yanked him up, but instead of getting his leg over the seat, the man face-planted directly into my dick and balls, forcing a wail from my mouth as loud as a mating whale.

  His muffled voice was blocked by my package as he asked, “Would this be a bad time to ask for your autograph?”

  Tony’s wife Teresa was waiting for us on the dock. She was all hair and makeup and loud exaggerated talk. When we brought her water-logged husband back to dry land, you’d think, given they were celebrating their twenty-fifth wedding anniversary, that her concern for his safety would be paramount. Think again. After Casey explained to her what had happened, not only was Teresa not the least bit concerned over his predicament but she smacked Tony upside the head and chastised him for eating the chimichanga platter the night before. As if an extra pound here or there would have made such a huge difference when it came to hauling his ass out of the water.

  Not to be outdone by her nagging, Tony went to town in an attempt to embarrass her by making an off-colored joke about the incredible amount of biking, hiking, and fornication the two had been doing since arriving in Cabo. Teresa pursed her lips and circled her finger by her ear in the universal signal for ‘He’s cuckoo.’

  Casey and I were spellbound; our eyes swiveled back and forth between the bickering lovebirds as if we were watching a heavyweight prizefight. It took less than a minute for us to become fully vested in the relationship of these two outspoken strangers. So amused were we by them that I was even reluctantly persuaded to accept their offer of a thank you drink. Well, one drink turned to plenty, but it was only after Teresa offered up a nightcap back in their hotel room that I motioned for my bodyguard to take us away before we got drunk enough that a night of swinger sex with Tony and Teresa began looking like a good thing.

  While I was okay with never seeing our drinking buddies again, Casey was drunkenly exchanging phone numbers with Teresa. Had I not been so wasted myself, I would have warned her against being so damn friendly all the time. Okay, I’ll admit, they were a fun couple, and yes, Tony turned out to be a cool dude when he wasn’t bobbing for my dick, but couldn’t she meet someone and just for once not become lifelong friends with them? I’d need to talk to her about that… just as soon as I found a toilet to throw up in.

  It wasn’t until I woke up in the morning with a massive hangover and saw the anxious text from my mother that I understood the extent of Tony’s gratitude. He’d gone straight to social media to tell his amazing rescue at sea story. In his version of events, Casey and I came off as modern day saints… heroes who’d risked life and limb to save a stranger from a murky death. I was finding his storytelling quite entertaining until I clicked on the accompanying video Tony had apparently taken of us without our knowledge or consent. It was all over the Internet.

  “I still can’t believe he was taking video the whole time we were out there with him,” I complained, pointing at my phone’s screen. “I blame you for this. I wanted to let him drown, but nooo… you just had to go pluck him out of the water.”

  “Tony’s only trying to make you a star.” Casey lifted her head off the table to groan.

  “I’m already a star,” I answered, wiping a dollop of drool from my lip. “I don’t need Tony’s help.”

  “Okay, whiny boy. You’ve had
enough googling for one day.” Casey plucked the phone from my hand. “Besides, there’s worse press you could be getting. Just be happy that the video is of you saving Tony and not of you jetskiing away. You can thank me now.”

  Unable to keep her head up, Casey laid it in her outstretched arm. I dropped my head next to hers. We were a pathetic pair.

  “Thank you,” I whispered.

  “You’re welcome.” She reached up and rubbed my temples.

  Casey’s phone went off with a rapid succession of buzzes. “Who keeps texting me?”

  “Um, I’m thinking Teresa.”

  “How did she get my number?”

  “I’ll give you one guess,” I said, pointing my finger at her in accusation.

  “Well, you should have stopped me,” she said, burping up a party favor. Her face turned green, and she sat for a brief moment, no doubt trying to establish which direction the contents were going. Once the determination was made, she sprinted off to the bathroom.

  The last couple days of our honeymoon were spent sequestered in our suite. We’d had enough adventure for the week and were content just to float in the water and enjoy the time we had left alone together. On our last day in paradise, I swam while Casey lay by the pool’s edge and soaked up the rays. Diving down under the water line, I kicked off the side of the wall and torpedoed myself underwater, surfacing just above Casey.

  “Well, hey there, hunk,” she said, recovering nicely from my sudden, watery intrusion into her peaceful nap.

  “Hey there, girl in the yellow bikini. You wanna get naked with me?”

  “I might be able to be persuaded… with the right foreplay.”

  “How about an upside down soggy kiss? Will that do it?”

  “I don’t know. Why don’t you give it your best shot?”

  I leaned in, dangling over her, my hair fanning out and tickling her face as I held my lips just above hers, not yet touching. Her eyes met mine and I could see the desire already flowing through them. I knew her body well, and making her crazy with lust was currently my only mission. Lightly trailing my tongue over her bottom lip, Casey parted her sexy pout to allow me in, but I didn’t plan on taking the easy way. Keeping her wanting… that was me giving her my best shot, and judging by her tiny little moans of pleasure, I was succeeding.

  Her body trembled as I reached down to her bikini line and traced my wet fingers up her tan stomach, between her springy breasts, over her angled collarbone, and up to her sleek neck. Casey wriggled in place as my hand made its way back down and disappeared under her bikini bottom. Arching her back, Casey groaned as she reached up and grabbed both sides of my face and pulled me down until our lips met and her tongue invaded my mouth.

  We were in the strangely erotic upside down kiss long enough for her to break away and say, “Stop. Not yet.”

  I pulled my hand out from between her legs and slid her body along the sunbathing mat she was lying on. Her skin was like silk as the warm water mixed with her lotion, creating the most sensual feel for my wandering hands. Resting her head on my shoulder, Casey floated on her back as I slid my fingers over her slippery flesh. I left no part of her untouched, and just as I’d been challenged to do, I had my wife naked and wanting.

  “Jake, please.” There was no need for her to finish her sentence, as I was already taking care of her need. Turning her around, I held her up against the side of the pool. Casey wrapped her legs around me as I entered her. Our eyes locked and we stared at each other in lust. It wasn’t possible to want her more. She was it for me, my final stop on a long and harrowing journey. We held each other tightly, consummating our marriage for the last time in our honeymoon paradise.

  9

  Jake: Takes One to Know One

  My first order of business upon returning from the honeymoon was Quinn. I’d flaked on that kid more times than I cared to admit, so there was no way I wasn’t keeping my word to him this time around. We made plans to meet at our parents’ house the following day. Not only could I work with Quinn on his songs, but a visit would satisfy my parents, who were eager to hear about the honeymoon.

  Casey and I had been on the road for only fifteen minutes when she said, “Can we stop for a cup of coffee?”

  “Like in the store?” I asked. Was she crazy?

  “Yeah, Jake, like normal people do. Sit inside and sip some coffee. Is that so weird?”

  I didn’t immediately respond because, yeah, it was a tad weird. I was a goddamn rock star. I didn’t just go into coffee shops and sip coffee. Not anymore, at least. Not since my popularity exploded last year and I had to have a bodyguard with me just about everywhere I went nowadays. Not that he was with us today. I hadn’t thought I needed him. We were just going to my parents’ house, where the only person I needed protection from was my father and his exploding nutsack stories.

  “Never mind,” she sighed. “I’ll just hop out and get it for us.”

  The disappointment in her voice surprised me. We males weren’t always good at picking up on such social cues, and I was no exception, but Casey definitely appeared let down by the fact that I didn’t want to get mauled at the coffee shop.

  “Am I missing something here? If you wanted to go for coffee, why didn’t you tell me before you left? I would have had Vadim come with us.”

  A tempered laugh escaped her, but again, I sensed something was off. My gut was telling me she didn’t find any of this funny.

  “Sometimes…” she began, before abruptly stopping herself.

  I waited for the rest of her sentence but it never came. “Sometimes what? Talk to me, Case.”

  “Sometimes I wish we could be like other couples and take a walk through the park or sit down for a cup of coffee, is all… and not with Vadim tagging along. He’s like the Terminator, Jake. He scares people.”

  “That’s the point of a bodyguard.”

  “Well, I don’t like it. And I don’t like him being a third wheel. Having a homicidal cyborg along everywhere we go kills the romantic vibe. Why can’t it be like our honeymoon all the time? No one bothered us at the resort.”

  “Because everyone paid handsomely not to. When you’re rich, you have to pretend you don’t care about famous people. It’s in the handbook. Look it up.”

  Casey glanced over at me and her face softened, the stress lines gone. She responded coyly. “Coffee shop patrons are a sophisticated bunch. My bet is they won’t care either.”

  “That’s highly doubtful, but I’ll tell you what, if you don’t mind standing around for an hour while I sign autographs and take pictures, then why the hell not?”

  “Really?” she perked up.

  No. The last thing I wanted to do was fake happiness for a bunch of strangers. But if it made Casey happy, and proved my point in the process, then I supposed it was a win-win. “Sure. Okay. Let’s get coffee.”

  Casey sat back in her seat, her arms crossed in front of her, a smug smile suddenly appearing on her face. Wait a minute! Had I just been conned?

  “Casey?” I asked, still not believing that my beloved was so shrewd.

  “Yes?” she answered in the sweetest, most affecting voice.

  “You just played me like a deck of cards, didn’t you?”

  “Yes, sweetie, I sure did.”

  I parked the Jeep out in front of a Starbucks and turned to my wife. Her eyes sparkled in amusement. I shook my head. If she wanted to play – well, then, game on.

  I jumped out and waited for her on the curb. Instead of trying to cover up with a cap or sunglasses, I decided to go au natural. I typically hated being gaped and gawked at, but today I welcomed it. Let’s just see how sophisticated her coffee crusaders were. There was no doubt in my mind that in a matter of seconds, my line would be longer than the one for a cup of joe. That would teach her.

  Offering up my hand, Casey playfully slapped hers into mine and began to swing it like we were two six-year-old girls. Oh, she was good. She thought she could shame me into a second-place finish. But
that’s not how this little coffee break was going to play out. I would not allow her to get the upper hand in this game of ours… at least not without a fight.

  The door opened with a swoosh of air, carrying the backdraft of the flavorful scent of coffee out onto the sidewalk, beckoning others to the holy land. I kept my head held high, making eye contact with other patrons as we took our place in line. Jaws began to drop all over the coffee shop. It was only a matter of time now.

  Throwing my arm over Casey’s shoulder, I dipped into her neck, giving it a little nibble for the fun of it. Teaching her a lesson didn’t have to be boring. If done properly, learning could be beneficial for all. Casey reveled in the show I was putting on for her benefit.

  Whispering in my ear, she said, “You’re absolutely delectable right now, aren’t you?”

  I shook my head at her in disappointment. She wasn’t supposed to be liking this. And where the hell were my selfie takers? No one was bothering us. This was ridiculous. Who was I going to have to screw in order to get a little fan girl gushing?

  When we arrived at the cashier after several minutes, the middle-aged woman behind the counter stared at me, her face flushed and her eyes all aglow. Here we go. She was about to blow. Finally. Jesus.

  “What can I get for you two?” she asked, looking between Casey and me. “And, just so you know, your drinks were already paid for.”

  “What? No, that’s not necessary,” I replied, looking around at all the patrons waiting on their drinks. Every single person in the place was staring in our direction. “Who paid for us?”

  “Well, you had multiple offers, but the gentleman over there was first in line when you came in, so he got the honors.”

  The honors? It’s not that people didn’t offer to buy me stuff all the time, but this was different. This wasn’t the typical celebrity stuff. No, there was definitely something more taking place here