Page 48 of Marriage (Red, White &) Blues

“We still could have gone to visit.”

“You don’t know Polish grandmas, Blake. She would’ve assumed you wanted to marry me. Trust me, it wouldn’t have happened in Tanzania. It would’ve happened in Poland. We hadn’t even?—”

He cut me off by kissing me. I loved when he did that. “After the tour, we’ll visit her. I want Grandma Maria’s approval.”

“Okay,” I responded all dreamy-like because my husband’s kisses still did that to me.

We relaxed at the house while I let him look through family photo albums. Then we went to the grocery store so I couldcook for us. I made chili and cornbread with all the fixings. Eventually, we had to leave for another rally.

I didn’t mind this rally so much, though. Sure, I left with a sore bottom again, but we were back in Michigan amongst my people. And when we woke up in the morning, we’d reachedFriday!

Despite a stupid luncheon we were forced to attend, Blake and I stopped at the store again so I could makekolaczkis.And in a few hours, I’d be drinking beers with my best friends.

Getting Blake into the kitchen to help me bake just proved how much he loved me. I highly doubted the man ever made himself so much as a bowl of cereal. It was no wonder he had a cook. I found this out the hard way when I asked him to measure me out a cup of flour. It took him ten minutes to find the “cup” he thought would work the best. I kept myself busy with other prep work and thus didn’t notice my lack of flour until I really needed it.

“Blake, honey, the flour?”

He handed me one of those Coca-Cola fountain glasses with flour in it. “You didn’t specify which cup you wanted.” He shrugged. “I got the best grip on this one.”

What did he say?It didn’t quite register until I looked between the glass, a covered-from-his-head-to-the-waist-of-his-trousers-in-flour Blake, and the counter with various flour-coated mugs and glasses before it clicked.

I didn’t want to laugh, but come on. This man graduated from Harvard. He made his family’s corporation billions of dollars a year.

“Okay…” I tried and failed to hold back my giggle. “This—” I picked up the metal one-cup measuring cup next to my workstation. “This is a measuring cup for dry measurements.”

“Oh…”

“See, they come in different sizes.” I held up each one telling him the size. “These are measuring spoons.” I did the same with the spoons. “And this is for measuring liquid.” I showed him the glass four-cup spouted Pyrex vessel that we always used.

His face turned a bit pink. “I’ve never had to…”

“I get it. I just forgot you were raised differently. C’mon. We’ll do this together.”

By explaining each step to him, my assistant baker came alive. And then well… my alpha baker came alive. He spun me in his arms and the intensity in his eyes just about soaked my panties. He yanked up the drab pencil skirt I still wore, bunching it around my waist, then dropped to his knees putting him right at eye level with my sex. He ran a finger between the elastic of the pink lace and the bare skin at the juncture of my thigh.

“These are pretty,” he said right before ripping the fabric down my legs where I instinctively stepped out of them and he threw them over his shoulder to land on the floor by the refrigerator. “But they look better on the floor.”

“Are you kidding me?” I whisper-shouted. “This is unsanitary,” I finished, even as my heartbeat broke speed records and my legs began to quiver.

“Don’t move,” he ordered.

“Blake, really…” My protest fell away when he lifted my leg over his shoulder, dragging his lip over his bottom teeth and his smoldering brown eyes turned positively sinful while looking me over as if trying to decide where to start. He breathed in deeply causing his nostrils to flare and his dimple showed when a deliciously slow smile spread over his face. A full-body shiver rolled through me.

He gave my bottom a light smack. “I said don’t move.”

My grip on the counter turned my knuckles white. He moved his gaze to my hands and this seemed to please him given the way his smile broadened and a very horny devil shown through.

“You want my mouth on you?” he asked and I knewhewanted it as his voice sounded lower and grittier than normal.

Slowly, I nodded my head up and down.

“If you cum, I stop, Glory—understand?”

“W-what?” I couldn’t have heard him right.

“I’ve been doing some research on this alpha lover thing.” He used his fingers to split the downstairs, flicking his tongue over my sweet spot. Oh, Jiminy Christmas, that felt good. It wasn’t like he’d never gone down on me before, but somehow, he changed the game here. “Withholding seems to be big with the alpha types. Today we’re going to see if they’re right.”

“With…holding?” I asked but he sucked the whole nub into his mouth causingmymouth to fall open as I gasped for air. He used the tip of his tongue to circle it. My knees began to buckle.

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