Page 23 of His Candy Cane (Sweet Treats 1)

Patrick snorts again.

“Who knew they were friends of your parents too?”

I nod.

“I know. I guess they met during a Tony Robbins motivational conference, and were delighted to find out that they lived in the same town.”

My husband shakes his head again.

“But how did they recognize that it was you? I mean, you didn’t go to that conference too, did you?”

I shrug with exasperation.

“Of course not. I wouldn’t be caught dead at one of those things. Evidently, the Valencias’ dog came in to see the vet a couple times, and they spoke with me. To be honest, Patrick, I remember their dog just fine. Marshall is a beautiful Dalmation with distinctive markings. But you know how I am with dog owners; I can’t recognize another human for the life of me.”

My husband merely chuckles and rubs my belly again.

“The Valencias are weird.”

“You can say that again. Hey, if you keep rubbing my belly like that, I’m going to think you’re doing it for good luck just like with the Buddha statues!” I exclaim. The dark man growls deep inside his chest.

“I am doing it for good luck, baby girl. You and the baby are my good luck charms.”

I giggle but then get serious.

“But anyways, yes, I think we’re going to be able to get the tapes, no thanks to my parents. Lorraine and Henry are insane, and I’ve just about given up on them.”

That’s one of the saddest developments in my life thus far. Despite the fact that I leapt to my husband’s defense in front of a packed auditorium, my parents haven’t come around. They continue to think that Patrick is an older man who inappropriately seduced a young virgin despite the fact that I’m a fully-actualized twenty-five-year-old woman.

As a result, we haven’t spoken with them in the month that’s passed since that fateful City Council meeting, although there have been signs of a break in the ice recently. My mom asked my aunt to ask me for a picture from my latest ultrasound, which I suppose is a roundabout way to establish a connection again.

But I haven’t forgotten what Lorraine and Henry did because their actions were ridiculous. And taking things to a public stage like that in the hopes of tanking my husband’s business is going beyond the pale. As a result, it’s going to require more than sharing a few ultrasounds to re-establish the trust between us. Lorraine and Henry are on my naughty list this year, and maybe after the baby’s born, I’ll relent and let them see their grandchild. For now, though, I haven’t gotten over the hurt.

Regardless, my parents’ efforts to bring down Patrick’s business did not succeed. In fact, the notoriety surrounding that City Council meeting spread, and pretty soon, there was a huge increase in foot traffic at the gym. Patrick had to extend Mr. P’s open hours and hire a few more trainers just to handle the additional interest.

Not to mention that he hasn’t given up on the supplements business. In fact, the opposite. Maybe he hasn’t gotten his permit yet, but we’re selling the supplements on-line already, for which no permit is needed, and the goods are flying off the shelves like hotcakes.

Who knew? Maybe it’s the image of my handsome husband gazing from the label that does it. After all, Patrick is gorgeous, fit, and absolutely breathtaking. Men definitely want to look like him, so they’re buying his products in an attempt to replicate his success, and I consider myself lucky to be his wife. We had a quickie ceremony in Vegas, which was fast but romantic, and just right in every way. My diamond glints from my finger and with a teasing smile, I slip it off and hand the item of jewelry to my husband.

“Give it to me,” I breathe. “Along with your candy cane.”

Patrick grins because he knows what I want.

“Flip over and spread,” is that low command. “Let me see your sweetness.”

With a moan of anticipation, I do as told while hitching my skirt over my bottom. My panties are drenched already and with one quick snap of his wrist, Patrick pulls them off.

“Oh!” I squeal.

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” Patrick rumbles, his eyes fierce with love. “Daddy knows what you want.”

With that, he eases his giant candy cane into my sopping slit and I cry out with pleasure. This is what I need: ten inches of thickness penetrating my small hole, and I cry out again, my eyes drifting shut. But then Patrick strokes over my crack, teasing my brown hole open with his fingers before worming a digit deep inside.

“You ready, sweetheart?”

I moan and mewl, trying to inhale in preparation for what’s going to happen next.

“Yes, Daddy. I want it.”

Patrick lets out a rough chuckle and slips his finger out before inserting the diamond into my back chamber. The stone has hard edges and I shriek with pleasure as the facets massage the walls of my bottom cavern.

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