It became a pastry slaughter of epic proportions.

Cake and icing flew in every direction. The floor was awash in sugar, as anything with a wing was grabbed off cakes and hurled to the floor. There was little enough time to search through the rubble of ceramic and plastic birds for anything resembling a USB stick, and the wholesale destruction simply continued.

In a bid to be the first one to locate the stick, shoving turned to fights. Men and woman punched, kicked, and even bit to reach the next bird, the next attempt at the stick. The losers of the ad-hoc battles were thrown into the cakes that had been stripped, and occasionally into cakes that had no bird statues and had avoided the original devastation.

It was a confectionary food fight, only out for blood. Not content with wading through battles, men began leaping through the air, pouncing on tables and cakes, and occasionally sliding over the frosting, a ceramic bird clutched in a death grip.

Luke lost Dani entirely, in the mess of bodies and pastries. It became a rolling mess. It had its humorous elements, when the people running the convention attempted to halt the destruction. The fact that they attacked trained professionals should have been a horrifying, one-ended bloodbath, but with the slick footing of sugar and the debris scattered over the concrete floor, they actually had better odds than he would have given them credit for.

Not that Luke wasn’t trying. His own fingers scrambled for the prize as much as anyone else’s until his hands were coated in cake crumbs, held together by what he feverishly hoped was raspberry filling. Shaking off the remains of what had been a six-tiered masterpiece complete with working fountains, Luke took a moment to reassess. He found William fast enough. He stood at the back, observing, Thomas at his side. Someone in police blues, with enough medals across his uniform to qualify him as a fairly high muckety-muck, stood next to them, arms crossed, scowling face letting the world know that he in no way approved of this rampant destruction.

Not a speck of frosting so much as touched any of their clothing.

Only just resisting the urge to fling something sweet in their direction just to watch them jump, Luke turned to survey the rest of the room. Even the giant television was getting splattered, and some of the people gathered on the balcony above were regretting their choice of getting so close, though how on earth cake was being thrown that high was beyond him. Truly, the melee was impressive and was only going to add to their fame this day on the nightly news. That whole slew of bystanders in the balcony had their cellphones out, recording every second.

Civilians. Potential casualties.

What are we thinking?

The whole thing had gotten completely out of hand, and William was at the heart of it. Setting up Dani as bait had only been part of it. He truly hadn’t cared one whit about the thousands who had shown up today with no thought in their minds beyond planning their weddings.

He should have called in a bomb scare. Anything to empty the place. Why hadn’t he?

Luke shook his head. Because that took time, plain and simple. Time that his father had felt they hadn’t had. Was he right? The groups fighting over the few remaining cakes certainly had shown up just as expected. But how much of that was his father’s fault? Air Force One certainly hadn’t been subtle.

A handful of cakes remained. Luke started toward them, his foot kicking something that clattered across the floor and came to rest in a pile of strawberries and smashed flowers. Luke looked down automatically and froze. There was a half-smashed bird statue under a fallen table a few feet away. It was difficult to tell, but there was something poking out of the bottom of the bird. He ran, slipping and sliding like he was trying to jog on a skating rink. A man in what might have been a black suit at one time saw him and, following his gaze, lunged for the same statue. Luke gritted his teeth and threw himself forward, shoulder meeting shoulder, sending them both tumbling, sliding, falling.

“FBI! FREEZE!”

He couldn’t have stopped if he’d wanted to, though he could have sworn he heard his father shout. Somehow he rolled and came up running. A wild, crazy leap over another agent, a woman in a blue suit, sent him stumbling over the remainder of a wedding cake that had been large enough to park a limo on, his feet and legs reducing it to so many frosted crumbs, and slid the remaining distance to the broken statue.

Another hand grabbed it before he could, and he looked up into a face twisted with a certain hatred intermingled with violent pride. The man tore the USB stick from the statue and held it aloft, shouting, “Elaina!” in a thick Russian accent. He smiled, yellowed teeth glowing behind his thick beard.

His expression altered to one of shock, eyes going wide before rolling back into his head, as he dropped to his knees, his hand releasing the stick. Elaina stood behind him, holding a table leg like a baseball bat.

“STOP SAYING THAT!” she shrieked.

Luke swept the stick off the ground and leapt to his feet.

He saw Marcus, who was looking at him, but pointing behind Luke.

Luke threw the stick to Marcus, and grunted as he was taken down from behind.

“FBI!”

Luke’s face was pinned to the floor, but he could see Marcus running from the melee. Then he saw Dani. She wasn’t wasting time looking for the stick, she was beating on people. Wherever the violence reached her, between men and women trying to hit or strike each other, she was clearing a swath.

“MOVE!” Marcus cried, and Dani whipped around to look at him.. It was like seeing double, spotting that second figure fighting alongside her, back to back. Assailants fell away. Whether those spike heels were to blame was anybody’s guess from here, but more than one person was limping or clutching a body part, showing they weren’t coming away unmarked.

Dani rose up then, higher, more beautiful than anything he’d ever seen in his life. A kick that was sheer perfection sent a bearded man falling backwards into the only table holding a cake that had thus far escaped destruction. He hit the edge hard, launching the cake skyward. The crowd in the balcony cheered until they figured out that this one was for them. Some scrambled to get away, still others remained, arms outstretched, laughing as it exploded over them. It was only cake, after all.

Dani straightened, hair swinging out, frosting on her nose. Never had Luke been so proud in his entire life. That’s my girl.

To his relief, the pressure on his back was lifted, the FBI agents were pulled off by Homeland Security, or maybe the CIA, for all he could tell. Dani was cornered, running up the stairs while Maria guarded the end of the staircase when someone did the unspeakable.

A gun went off.

Screams erupted from overhead as the bridal crowd rethought their stance on watching until the end. The balcony thundered with the sound of retreat while a dozen agents drew their weapons on a single man, whose own gun went clattering to the floor and was kicked aside, into a snowdrift of white frosting.

For a moment a standoff ensued. FBI and Homeland Security stared at each other, cake-spattered hands holding weapons that could turn this into the massacre of the century. No one seemed to know which side the other was on, or who was allied to whom. Orders were shouted, conflicting, each officer sure of his status of being in charge, only adding to the confusion. A shouting match ensued, weapons pointing to the floor as four- letter words blossomed like bridal bouquets. It would have been comical had it not been for one thing.

Marcus. Lying still upon the floor.

He’d spun and fell, calling Dani’s name, one arm arcing up in a wild throw. Dani was halfway up the steps, and turned, her face going white as she reached out and impossibly caught the tiny object. She shouted his name and would have thrown herself over the railing to go to him, had it not been for Maria’s steadying hand on her arm. Luke saw the older woman bend to speak, her mouth moving quickly, her free hand gesturing urgently.

Luke pulled free of melee. All he could think was how he needed to get to her. Now. But she was too far away. And Marcus. Had no one seen him fall? His mouth was open, and he was breathing in labored gasps, one hand clutching at his shoulder, bright streaks of red showing through his fingers.

Maria saw Luke as he plunged through the crowd and pointed at Marcus. No, at something behind him. Something he couldn’t see. Luke skidded to a halt and turned, but only saw several men in a shouting match, each representing a different agency if the accents were anything to go by. Two rough military types were nose to nose, shouting despite being only inches apart. No...not there. Beyond. He turned to mime a question at Maria, who flung up her hands in despair and pointed at the TV, miming a garage door opener. Or a phaser from Star Trek. She shot him a look and he shrugged.

“A REMOTE, DUMBASS!”

They had to have heard her back in Florida. Red-faced, Luke searched the sidelines until he found him, that rotund little man who had made such a fuss about the noise of hundreds of special agents. He was covering his head with his clipboard and hiding under a table.

He sprinted to the man and dove, grabbing him by the scruff of the neck and hauling him out into the open despite the fact that the shouting match had turned into a proper fight. A chair came flying past his head. Another shot rang out, and then another. Negotiations had broken down. People screamed and ran for cover.

“WHERE IS THE REMOTE?” Luke screamed over the noise.

The man looked at him as though he’d just fallen from the sky dressed like a rabbit. “WHAT?”

“FOR THE TV! WHERE?”

The man reached into a pocket and pulled out a remote. “Are you insane?”

“It’s a prerequisite!” Luke yelled, and ran to where he could get a clear shot with the only weapon he had.

Dani ran up the steps, bent over. Maria held off the pursuit with her pistol, but she couldn’t keep the bullets from dancing around Dani’s head and sparking off the railings. She disappeared for a moment and reappeared, sliding across the floor of the balcony, sliding under the bottom rail.

“DANI!” Luke cried as she fell. She caught herself by her ankles, hanging upside down from the railing, and jammed the stick into the television.

Three men drew a bead on her helpless form as she hung over the wreckage of the cake contest. Each one of them fell dead before they could fire.

Luke looked over to see his mother standing behind him, her gun pointed in the air. He could almost see the smoke rising from the barrel. “Never underestimate your mother, dear!” she called out cheerfully.

As if in a dream, Luke pressed INPUT. On the screen the words ENTER PASSWORD glowed an evil green.

“EDWIN!” he yelled, and tossed the remote to the man who had long since taken cover behind a barricade of several tables. He immediately dropped it and went scrambling after the batteries. Holding the batteries in with one hand, he typed four numbers with the other and the television flickered to the image of a man behind a desk.

“My name is Richard Thornbrough. I’m the deputy director for the FBI.”

“He was killed last year,” Luke heard one of the agents tell the other.

“I have proof of corruption at the highest level. Ray Addams, Johnathan Killen...” He went on, detailing the names of people who had established ties with organized crime. There was a flicker and another face appeared, this one speaking French. Another flicker and a man in a turban speaking Arabic.

A volley of bullets destroyed the television screen, but the sound kept going.

Every TV in the place, screens that ranged all the way around the room, was playing the same thing. The shooters lost interest in the war at hand, and instead became intent on silencing the televisions, gunfire causing multiple eruptions of sparks and shattering glass to rain down on the combatants.

As luck would have it, they were too busy to pay attention to the mass of police and agents, including the FBI, who surrounded them, weapons drawn.

“DANI!” Luke screamed. Dani stood carefully, rising from where she’d fallen. Luke could see that she was injured; she was limping, but she was alive. He launched himself at her and she ran. meeting him halfway, landing somehow in his arms, lips taking his, climbing him like a pole.

“Well done, my boy!” William said, clapping Luke hard on the back. Luke turned to protest, and somehow lost his grip on the one thing that mattered. Dani disappeared, holding up one finger in a signal to wait. She bent and pulled up a large chunk of cake, all smiles and an evil look in her eye.

He’d seen that look before.

Grinning, Luke stepped back, waiting to see what she intended to do with it.

William never saw it coming.

Dani quite simply walked up to him. Several men with the look of bodyguards found something the other way to draw their attention as she leaned in and smashed the cake into William’s pompous, smiling face.

“Let’s get out of here,” she murmured, turning and pressing her icing-covered body to Luke’s, melding them in a confectionary glue.

Luke did the only thing he could under the circumstances. He kissed his bride.

***

LUKE GRABBED DANI’S wrist and walked away.

They’d been reassured that Marcus would be okay. He’d been shot in the shoulder, and hit his head on a table when we went down. By the time Luke and Dani had reunited he was already sitting up, giving the paramedics hell. It was his idea for them to go—somehow he’d managed to scrounge a five-dollar bill from somewhere and pressed it into Luke’s hand with a significant look when they’d come over to check on him.

“I’ll be out of the hospital by nightfall,” he’d assured them, though privately Dani doubted it. Tomorrow maybe. Even a bullet through soft tissue would require a certain amount of watching once he’d been stitched up. “And, so you know, I’m retiring after this. You two are on your own.”

“When pigs fly,” Dani had retorted, tears in her eyes. Glad to see he was all right, or at least that he would be.

William caught them on the way out. He informed them the FBI was off the case, and thanks to the information on the drive Ray was now the current object of their interest. William was directing cleanup himself, with icing in his eyebrows and down the front of his suit. Dani’s aim had been true. The look suited him, giving him a clownish appearance.

Despite his insistence on debriefing and the repeated attempts to call his boy back into line, Luke wasn’t listening. He looked tired, worn out. He simply left the building without saying a word, holding tight to Dani’s hand, towing her along, disregarding all demands for questions or resolution of issues.

Truth be told, Dani had had enough. She had no more interest in staying than Luke did, and was thankful he’d taken the initiative.

As they left the building, Dani jogged to keep pace with Luke’s long strides. His jaw was set, his eyes focused on something beyond the parking lot where a plethora of tow-trucks was hauling away the debris of a dozen cars with government plates. “What the matter?” she asked, reaching up to touch his shoulder with her free hand. “Where are we going?”

They walked past the rental car. It was a wreck, and there was plunger shoved into the radiator cap. They walked past people picking up wooden slivers that once gave directions for parking. They walked past anxious crowds being interviewed by police and media alike, with no less diligence on the part of either set of interviewers.

Luke didn’t seem to even notice them. Dani bit her lip, anxious and unsure until they crossed the street and Dani saw their destination. In bright lights a giant hotel chain staked its claim on a monstrous building, the hotel affiliated with the convention center. Remembering the five dollars, she giggled, and grabbed his arm with her free hand and winced. The fall had hurt; it would leave a bruise, but she’d had much worse. A little moving around had cleared up the stiffness.

Something told her that she was going to get more exercise and very soon.

Luke remained silent until he got to the front counter. The man behind the counter looked at the frosting, blood, and sweat that covered them both and craned his neck to see beyond them, to the bright red and blue lights that flashed outside his door.

“Can... can I help you?” His eyes were a little wild, and his finger hovered over a spot on the counter where Dani guessed was a button that would alert security of a problem.

“Penthouse,” Luke said, pulling out his wallet. He dropped a card on the counter. While Dani had no idea what it was about the white Visa card that was so special, the man at the counter evidently did, because his attitude changed considerably the moment he picked it up.

“Very well, Mr. McConnell. We’ll have that for you right away.”

“You can call me William,” Luke said smoothly. “Everyone does.”

“Thank you, sir... er... William. Let me get those keycards for you. Can I offer someone to assist with your—” he faltered a little, eyes flicking over them, “luggage?”

“Just send up two bottles of the best Champagne you can find.” Luke looked at Dani, and she saw the tenderness come into his eyes. “Cancel that. We want sparkling water. Lobster, steak, whatever you have, and charge the lot.”

“Yes, sir.” The man’s eyebrows were practically climbing his forehead as he fought to maintain an obsequious tone. “Would there be anything else?”

“Do you have a cleaning service?”

“Yes, sir; they are open for another four hours.”

“I’ll have that ready for you when the food comes.”

“Yes, sir.” The man handed Luke two plastic keycards, and handed back the credit card with an almost reverential air. Dani fought an attack of the giggles.

Luke shot her a stern glance and led her to the elevators. As the doors closed, she wrapped her arms around his waist and tilted her head up to look at him. “Stole your old man’s wallet?” She grinned.

“Yeah, checking in under a false ID, too.”

“Tsk tsk tsk. A government agent acting like this. Wait. How’d you get away with not showing ID?” Dani blinked.

“I did. I had it under the credit card. Picture ID, three of them. Each one swore I was Ben Franklin. He seemed to accept that.”

Dani stepped in front of him. “Marry me,” she said, and pressed her lips to his.

“Say the word.”

She sighed happily, and kissed him again, not caring that she was getting frosting everywhere. “One of these days you’re going to figure out that I’m not joking...”

The doors opened behind him and he grabbed her ass in both hands and lifted her against him. He carried her like that into the hall and set her down at the door marked PENTHOUSE. He swiped the card, and the door opened. He reached for her again and, laughing, Dani dodged out of his way and ducked.

Despite his shocked protestations, she lifted him into a fireman carry and walked into the room. This time it was Luke who laughed uncontrollably.

“I’m taking you up on that. Consider yourself carried over the threshold.”

“You and me,” he said, holding her head in his hands when his feet were on the floor again, “we’re going to need to talk about who’s in charge.”

“You talk,” she said, pulling off her shirt. “I’m about to have my mouth full.”

They dropped their clothing to the floor, leaving it in front of the door. The suite consisted of two bedrooms and a common sitting area. They each ran to one bedroom, naked, and met again at the doorways.

“Standard shower!” Dani reported after her own investigation.

“Glass doors, extra room, and three shower heads!” Luke said proudly.

“You win!” Dani laughed, and walked to him, swinging her hips with every step, arching her back just a little to display her breasts. It was cold enough in the room to feel her nipples harden. Speaking of hardening, she could tell the sort of effect she was having on him.

“It’s not like you built it,” she said, sliding into his arms. “You seem awfully...” She grabbed his growing member hard, “pleased with yourself.”

“Of course, I’m pleased with myself.” He grinned. “Look who I have all to myself. And she’s naked, too!”

Dani could feel herself blush. Damn if he didn’t always know just what to say to make her feel loved, and horny all the way down to her toes. She stroked him for a moment, just enjoying the way he moaned, the way he arched his neck.

Luke retreated, grabbing her hand, and led her into the bathroom he’d found. It was huge, a five-piece with a little sauna tucked into a corner. He hit the controls, and water sprang from both ends.

Luke looked at her, and with a grin and flourish he spun another knob and the water sprayed down from the ceiling of the shower as well. It was like a rainforest, if the rain came down slightly at an angle. And it was scalding hot.

They stepped in and he found the soap, fumbling with the packaging especially, as it had already gotten wet. Dani’s attempts to help only interfered, and left them both laughing. The hot water was heavenly as they lathered each other. She gasped as he ran his hands over her, from legs to ass to belly to back, to breasts and shoulders, coming to rest on her chin. He held her face and kissed her deeply, passionately. His thick cock pressed against her as she moved into his arms, and she moaned a little, feeling the answering need deep within her.

“I want that,” she whispered, sliding her body against his, one leg hooking around his hip, and rising on her toes to press him there, where the ache was greatest.

“Such a dirty girl... I suspect you need more soap.”

Dani’s giggles turn to squeals of laughter as he lathered up his hands, and ran them over every inch of her, this time concentrating on the sweet spots, his palms brushing against her nipples, his fingertips parting her ass and finding her folds, exploring so thoroughly that she writhed and reveled under his touch. Before he could call it done, though, she grabbed the soap out of his hands, noting in surprise that the small complementary bar had already been whittled down to a mere sliver. She focused on what was important, having already thoroughly scrubbed the icing from his newly-formed bruises, and caressed his chest, sliding down his belly to that lower place, letting the rough hairs collect the lather as she soaped his erection until it was gleaming with suds, and reached down to wash his balls.

It was his turn to gasp, to reach for her, pressing her against the wall of the shower, lifting her so that both legs wrapped around his waist. The tile was cold against her back, but he was all heat as he bent his head to devour her mouth while one hand found her breast, and kneaded it until she was moaning and desperate for more.

Only then did he release her that they might rinse off, the water stroking the parts of each other they couldn’t reach. He used the hand-held showerhead to make sure no soap lingered in the delicate folds, and she about jumped out of her skin when he set the head to a hard, pulsating stream of water that pounded her clit in exquisite agony.

“Luke!”

His name became a plea. The showerhead was forgotten; it was his fingers that pressed her there, rubbing in slow circles, teasing until she found herself begging, half in tears for him to take her.

Luke complied by turning her to the far wall and bent her over. She braced herself against the wall with her hands as he set himself behind her and held her hips. She felt him there, behind her, the hard flesh of his shaft against her ass. He shifted her position and she spread her legs further, moaning in delight and anticipation as he pressed in, just a little, only it wasn’t enough to give her the relief she so craved. She growled with all the frustration of the past few days and reached back to grab his hands.

He was being gentle, considerate. It was the last thing she wanted. She braced herself on the slick floor of the shower and pressed back, skewering herself on him. Hard. Deep. Dani was in no mood for niceties; she needed him, and she was going to have him.

Luke grunted in surprise, but recovered quickly, his hands digging into her hips, his thrusts deep, hard, and fast. She felt him fill her and she braced against the wall, arms pressing against the tile as he took her.

It wasn’t enough. The angle was awkward, and he couldn’t bury himself deep enough to satisfy her. She pulled free, wanting more, much more, and yanked him free of the shower, letting it run. They fell into bed, soaking wet, and she mounted him. For a moment she paused, staring down at the man she loved, the man who’d come through for her again and again, the man who smiled now and reached for her with such passion and joy that she fairly jumped on his shaft and rode him, letting the frustrations and need guide her. This...this was finally enough. She paused for a moment to savor it, the feel of him filling her fully, the way he twitched inside her, the way her muscles clenched around him. This was sex at its ultimate, perfect, best. And they’d only just begun.

The water sprayed in the background and the comforter was wicking water from their bodies as she slammed herself harder on him, until the entire bed jolted against the wall.

He rolled then, sending her sprawling in the middle of the bed with her legs spread, and rolled on top of her. He slid back inside her and continued the maddening thrusts, his face dropping to her neck, her breasts rubbing against his chest.

She could feel the heat rising in her, the portent to her climax, and she grabbed his butt cheeks and squeezed as her legs wrapped around him. She cried out as she spasmed, but he didn’t stop, couldn’t stop. Please, don’t stop.

She came hard, her body in spasms, but Luke was still going. Over the waves of orgasm, he still slid in and out, in and out, even as her initial climax began to plateau.

“Oh... oh... my... nooo...” she cried as another orgasm built in her. This one promised to be bigger, harder, blinding.

Luke grunted and stiffened. She could feel him spasm inside of her, and then the second wave hit. She screamed into his shoulder, legs pulling him harder, demanding he penetrate her to the core. Her body shook, and she slammed against him as he shuddered over her.

They fell together, breathing heavily. The water in the shower ran, white noise in another room, an exotic location just beyond the door.

Dani turned to look at Luke. It was incredible. He was hers. She was his.

He mumbled something into the wet duvet.

“What?” Her voice sounded dry, creaky.

“I said—” He lifted his head and smiled at her. “Wanna try the tub next?”