Page 153 of Kneeling to Candy

CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE

CANDY

Butch groans in that manly way he does when he’s more than game for what I have planned—something between a wild growl and needy moan. It lights a wick of excitement straight to my pussy, and I’m more than eager to take out my frustrations with him in the bedroom.

Rest will have to wait.

“Does this mean you forgive me for being—what did you call me?” He muses, rubbing his chin with contemplation. “A stupidly clueless man?

I bop him on the tip of his nose. “Yes, I forgive you. But don’t think you’re off the hook. I want a wedding—a real one, minus the horrid tux and fluffy ball gown you seem to think I like. Eww. We do it our way, with biker cuts, short skirts, and combat boots.”

“Okay. But I’m not shaving my legs.”

Laughing, I swat him playfully on his chest. “You won’t be wearing the skirt—me and the girls are.”

“Even better.” He smiles like I’ve hung the moon. “Whatever you want, we’ll make it happen.”

“I want to do it soon. Gosh, there’s so much to plan. We need to pick the wedding party, a cake, wedding bands?—”

“Ah, shit!” Butch jumps from the couch like his ass is on fire, racing into the bedroom.

“Where are you going?”

He pops back into the seating area, waving at me to stop when he sees me getting up from the couch to follow him. “I’ll be right back. Give me a second.”

“Okay,” I say, slightly confused. But the way Butch smiles at me before disappearing back into the bedroom has me assuming he’s up to something good.

I park my butt back on the couch, listening to Butch rummaging frantically through the nightstand. Slamming a draw shut, Butch comes skidding back toward the couch. He drops to one knee in front of me, holding open a black velvet ring box with a giant pink marquise diamond ring—something to represent the original candy ring he proposed with, but more permanent.

My jaw drops. This is unexpected. Then again, I’m starting to realize I should to expect the unexpected from my sly biker.

With a dimpled smile overtaking his handsome chiseled face, Butch says, “I mucked this up last time. Not going to screw it up the second time around.”

“Butch,” I whisper, happy tears running down my face. He’s had this ring for who knows how long, intending to make our marriage legit. Where all other men have failed, this man is determined to do right by me.

“Marry me, Candy. Be mine, and I’ll be yours in every single way—always.” He pauses, waiting for me to answer, until he remembers his manners. “Please, Goddess.”

“Yes,” I say, laughing through my tears. I take him by his biceps, yanking him in for a kiss.

Raring to go, Butch lunges forward, his lips colliding with mine and knocking us flat on the couch. We laugh between kisses, savoring this big moment of ours.

When we finally come up for air, Butch slips the ring onto my left ring finger. A perfect fit, exactly like us.

Butch is practically vibrating with joy. “We should tell the rest of the family and celebrate.”

“We will,” I say pleasantly. “After I’ve handled your bad behavior.”

“Come again?”

“You hid our marriage. That can’t go unpunished, can it?”

My biker’s delight turns to lust in a nanosecond. Looking at me with a smoldering stare, Butch slips off the couch to kneel before me. “Whatever my goddess wants, I will obey.”

Running my fingers over his short hair, I smirk. “Be honest with me. How bad is your shoulder?”

“Sore, but I can handle whatever it is you have in mind.”

“Can you handle crawling?”

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