Sweet Curves (Sweet Enough to Eat #2) - Mila Crawford ,Aria Cole Page 0,16

be mine.”

“Yours?” Her father arched a wary eyebrow.

“Forever. I want to marry her. I want to have a family with her. I want to give her the world. I won’t stop until I can.”

He nodded, eyes finally casting out to the horizon as he gripped the wheel. “Good, good, that’s exactly what I wanted to hear.”

By the time we were docking that evening, empty picnic basket and bottles of local beer in hand, it felt like I’d known this man my entire life.

It felt like family.

I smiled, eager to get back to Katie after a day apart to catch up, and eager to taste her after eight long hours of man-bonding.

I needed my sweet cheeks in my arms.

Katie

“Mm, delicious, sweet cheeks,” he hummed at the juncture of my thighs, quivering as release coursed through me. “Starting my day with you on my chin makes me a very happy man.”

I could feel the blush deepen up my chest.

“Love these rosy little nipples standing to attention for me.” He slipped a palm beneath my thin cotton sleep tank and tweaked the stiff little peaks until my hips began to slow rock against him. I was totally a wanton harlot under his hands. I couldn’t help feeling alive sexually and physically underneath him.

“I’m liking this you every eight hours diet.” He trailed up my body, lips kissing every dip and curve as he went.

I grinned, lazy with my release, every limb in body as soft as butter. “You do my body so good.”

His cocky grin slipped sideways and his fingers slipped between my folds again, speeding softly around my clitoris. Within a few beats he was tripping me over the edge again, tiny tremors of pleasure soaking his palm and making me squirm with sensitive bliss.

“You know, soon it’ll be our wedding day.”

“Run that by me again?” I was sure I’d misheard him.

“You heard me just fine, sweet cheeks. One of these days I’m gonna get you in a fluffy white dress and you’ll have to hire someone to bake the fancy ass cake.”

“You’re crazy, I don’t think marriage will ever be for me.”

“Ever?” He breathed, catching my ear with his teeth. “I didn’t think devouring you every eight hours would be possible under this roof, but here we are, being rebels.”

I couldn’t contain my giggle, hand over my mouth, as we snorted together.

Exactly four hours later Sawyer’s hand was locked in mine, the most uncomfortable peach monstrosity of a dress safety-clipped under my armpits holding me in as we sat near the head table of the reception of my sister’s wedding.

“Here we go, cake time.” I grumbled, leaning into Sawyer for all the support.

“Toast time.” Sawyer breathed, eyes averting from mine to my mother’s at the head table.

Her condescending stare found mine and I shifted uncomfortably in my dress.

“I was blessed with two incredible daughters, each unique in their own ways,” mom looked to Hallie who was already wiping at tears, “Hallie--my beautiful princess,” mom beamed, wiping at her own Stepford tears, “and the smart one--my Katie. Stubborn and smart, they go hand in hand sometimes,” mom continued, eyes searching the crowd for me, “she refused to sit at the wedding table because of this new boy she’s got. Well, I think it’s the only boy, to be honest,” mom paused to take a sip of her champagne with an arrogant little shrug, her couture dress so heavy it dropped of one shoulder and made her look even more drunk than she was, “I just hope someday Katie is as lucky as my Hallie-girl.”

I tuned the rest of the speech out, my fingernails making shreds of Sawyer’s thigh as my mother’s hurtful words bounced around my head.

“She’s a fucking liar,” Sawyer seethed, so loud many of the heads at the table turned. My mother had stuck my date at the misfits table, full of forty-something singles and weird uncle Vinny who always asked the girls in the family for slow dances.

“Don’t believe a word she says, Katie. Don’t let a liar into your head. You’re better than her. You’re better than all of us.”

My wet eyes turned to Sawyer’s, anger tightening my muscles.

“That cake is beautiful, Katie, the prettiest I’ve seen--you out did yourself. J.Lo would pay a million bucks for a cake like that--”

“Sawyer, stop,” I sucked in a breath, trying my best to take in his words because I trusted him, and he wasn’t a liar. Sawyer’s words were kind and without judgement or manipulation.

I gulped, feeling the salted tracks