"Hawk. I'm asking you if the white cake with the white buttercream frosting is a good choice."
He nodded. Just pick something, babe. All I wanna do is make love to you. He didn't realize picking out wedding cake would be such a turn-on. He smiled as he watched the crease across her forehead deepen before she threw her shoulders back and said, "Let's go for it. I'm glad that's over with." She glanced at him, her eyes sparkling like a fresh glass of champagne.
"Let's get something to drink. I need a fuckin' beer after all this."
"Don't be so grumpy." She came over and draped her arms over his shoulder, dipping her head to kiss his jaw. "Thanks for pretending to help out." She slipped her fingers down the front of his T-shirt, her nail tugging at his nipple ring. A small grunt rose from his throat. "You like that, honey?" She ran her fingers over his every groove of his tight skin. "Love the way you feel," she whispered, her breath scorching on his neck.
He looped his arm around her waist and yanked her on his lap, his hard dick poking at her rounded ass. "Feel what you've done to me. How you gonna fix it?"
"When we get home, I'll treat you real good." She wiggled to get out of his grasp, but he held her firm.
"Fuck that. We're gonna take care of it now."
Wide-eyed, she put her hands on his chest. "Don't even think about doing it in the tasting room."
He lifted her off his lap and stood up. "Come on." He laced his fingers through hers and walked out of the dining room. Turning the corner, he stopped in front of the women's room.
Cara shook her head. "You've got to be joking."
"Didn't you tell me each stall is private? Come on." Before Cara could comment, he'd pushed open the bathroom door. The anteroom had a large couch, a couple of plush armchairs, a full length mirror, and a crystal chandelier. Their footsteps clacked on the marble floor.
Cara tried to pull out of his grip. "Hawk, this is insane. What if someone comes in here?"
He laughed. "That makes it more fun." He pulled her through the doorway into the bathroom where five sinks lined the wall, the white marble shone under the bright lighting. There were several wooden doors. Hawk opened one and closed it after Cara entered. The room was like a small bathroom: toilet, sink, and a small parlor chair upholstered in a fleur de lis design. The door was floor to ceiling. After turning the lock, he hoisted Cara up by the waist and plopped her down on the dusty rose granite counter. He shoved up her skirt and she moaned as she leaned back against the mirror. He bent his head and his mouth covered hers hungrily as his arm on the small of her back, drew her close to him, her breasts pressed against his chest.
"Oh, Hawk," she murmured.
"You're so hot," he whispered against her lips. He bit her bottom lip slowly and held it between his teeth for a few seconds before moving his mouth from hers to her cheeks then to her earlobes. She curled her arms around his neck. As he lavished kisses on her neck, his hand slowly inched toward her sex, tickling her inner thigh until she gasped loudly.