We both cut the cake, using our hands as one to guide the knife. Of course, Madi smears my nose with the cream. She draws a heart on the bridge of my nose. I trace the same shape onto her cheek. We barely eat any of the dessert. Although there are endless sweets and custards. I expected my bunny to gorge on the goodies, but she must be controlling the urge.

"ETA 30 minutes for the garter removal and toss." Velma updates us.

Mrs. Harrison and I go on smashing buttercream frosting on each other faces. Like toddlers. The photos are surely online within seconds due to the live streaming. I wonder if the internet broke yet.

MADISON

I lick frosting from my thumb. I take in Jace's smeared face. I don't have a camera on me, so I take a mental screenshot to store in my mind. Hopefully, my concentration is strong enough to save the sight of him all dirtied up by cake. He's usually so clean. It's new seeing him this imperfect. The world must be thinking the same. They've always seen a strict and reserved version of him. I'm glad I got my husband to break character.

The waiters carve pieces of the unbelievable cake and serve it with custard to the guests. The 30 minutes fly by. Everyone retires to the dance floor, which is on the opposite side of the castle tent. I swear, I need to measure the entire circumference. It has to be 10k square feet. Maybe more.

The band performs sexy jazz. A simmering saxophone, bass, and drum jam session. The room dims, only leaving a large spotlight which engulfs the middle of the floor. This needs no announcing to the audience. There's a single chair for me to sit in while my husband remove the garter from my thigh. I hope he makes it quick. This is the part I wished I could skip, but it's mandatory. I swallow my shyness and go to the seat.

The crowd whoops and catcalls as I sit. My cheeks torch. I'm so tempted to cover my eyes from the bashfulness. Of course Jace brings swagger to undressing my leg. He isn't quick. He builds up the anticipation of removal by holding my leg, slowly raising the hem of my dress, and smooching his way up.

I actually cover my face and die in silence, since crying would be too dramatic. The sassy cheering continues. My lovebug only uses his lips. His cushiony lips sizzle every inch of my skin. My cells combust. He has a way of hacking every nerve in my body. I keep my hands over my face to avoid being horny in front of billions. I'm so relieved when the crocheted garter slips down my leg. My hubby uses his teeth to clutch it. I feel safe to reveal my face now. Jace tosses it into the roaring crowd. The men dive for it.

It's so cringy! Although I guess it's their version of the bouquet toss. It symbolizes their luck to marry. I can't see who was the winner. There are too many bodies. My love helps me from the chair. He cracks up at my flushed face. I shove him and snort.

"Introducing the father daughter dance." Velma announces.

Dad and I meet at the middle of the dance floor. I rub the back of my neck. "You didn't see that."

"Agreed." He chuckles nervously.

Our dance set is heavily influenced by the song Hey Pachuco. The swing styled footwork is very comedic. As if two cartoon characters jiving to the beat. Tap dancing. Jazz jump spins. Hopping while side kicking both legs. We even use props. Top hats and fake Tommy guns to fit the 1940s era. Walking while strutting our legs out. Hand jiving as done in the musical Grease. Broadway hand gestures.

Gun swinging while tap dancing. Top hat showboating as Michigan J. Frog does; raising our hats from her heads while prancing our legs outward. We incorporate freestyle moves. Runner man. River dance. MC Hammer. Macarena. House Shuffle. Foot flossing. Air pumping. The lasso. Moonwalk. Sprinkler. Disco hand point.

We receive gut wrenching laughs. I beckon to mom and Jace to join us. Both of our solo dances should be combined. Mom is goofy with her moves. She reiterates the ones we've done to the best of her ability, but it just comes off as a parody. Jace is annoyingly professional with every single motion. I'm jealous. We all tap dance the rest of the song, switching partners and having a blast. I revisit my roots of mixology, complete with an apron and measuring utensils.

Cheetah Girls Fuego crashes the speakers as I whip up daiquiris, tonics, and vodkas. Aperol Spritz. Dirty Martinis. Margaritas. French 75. Aviation. Kir Royale. The natural buzz I acquired from the night has me stirring up drinks quicker than the flash. I missed the rush of customers waiting to be replenished. I missed my dashing hands collecting ingredients, shaking, measuring, serving. I crave the mystery drink of each orderer, never knowing what they're gonna ask for.

I slide each drink I complete down the bar as if someone playing a game. I level up on the delivery time, making it my mission, to beat the duration of the last one. It's been so long since I've zoned out! So long since I isolated my handiwork as being the only thing that matters. I'm a supped-up octopus. The night nears an end. My bouquet toss has arrived. My family and I are allowed to go out. Jace's family are blockaded from following us by the men in black. Mom hugs me goodbye, then cuddles her son-in-law. "Welcome to the family."

"Call us in the morning. We have to discuss the sex." Lil whispers into my ear while secretly giving me the sex kit she made. A black bag. I guess she doesn't want to be blunt in front of the guys.  

"Will do."

I overhear Alonso bid farewell to his boss. "If you still feel uneasy, I could accompany you. You'll barely feel my presence."

"I doubt that."

What are they talking about? I want to ask this but my girls group hug me, almost knocking me over with the love cuddle. "Aim the bouquet at me." Jess demands. I wink at her.

The thousands of visitors pile out onto the road once again. Jace and I wave goodbye to everyone while nearing the carriage. I decide to throw the bouquet from the carriage as it wheels away. I stand on the ledge and hold on to a railing. Jace accompanies me. He doesn't find my choice of hanging from the wagon as inappropriate. He accepts my spontaneity.

I focus my aim at Jess by closing one eye for accuracy. Lil has my back if I miss, she'll dive for it. I suck in a breath and chuck it the best I can. It's an underhanded throw since Jess is close by, so it should make it. I squeal when she catches it, and hop, almost falling to the ground. My Prince Charming saves me from being publicly embarrassed.

"Good arm, quarterback."

I giggle. "You would be the one to know." I flirt.

He steers me inside while the horses gallop on. "Let's test that, shall we?"

We're alone in the perfect bubble of bliss again. "How far is the cabin?"

"12 minutes." My hubby swallows hard. I witness him undress me with his eyes. His raunchy motive is impossible to miss. The sage irises of his have their own language. Translating happy arousal. Jace flattens me to the cool leather and spears me with his hard cock. "I've been fighting this since the morning. I had to take a cold shower."

"Hmm..." I rock my hips in a circle to feel him out. He's cement. "Does it hurt?"

"It's...uncomfortable. I had to concentrate more than usual. All the blood in my brain rushed down there."

"So your mind went stupid?"

His warm hand slides up my knee to my thigh. "No...it almost shut down."

"Ahhh! See! You are a bot!"

He sighs harshly. " I see you're never gonna drop it, so I might as well agree with you."

"Yay!" I shriek.

"You crazy woman."

"Welp...you married me. It's too late to pull out now." I bite my lip and grind my crotch against his, holding it there to tease him. I love the wild moan he releases.

"I assure there'll be no pulling out." He uses a sexual innuendo. "Same way you promised to have me screaming tonight."

"I already accomplished that, remember? Vegas. Hilton hotel." I boast with a cocksure raise of my eyebrow. "Now you need to accomplish fucking me."

"No, I'll make love to you...fucking comes later, rookie."

I thrash my waist back and forth into his, defying his order. I nibble on his bottom lip. Jace sings out barbaric grunts. "I'm not a rookie." I whisper. "You circled the positions from the playbook. That's what you'll get." I claw my hand around his throat. "You'll beg for it."

TO BE CONTINUED