LOVE ‘EM(11)

Sex with B.O.B. will never be the same again.





FOUR





The lights on the dash illuminate her face and throw shadows on the valleys and hollows around her curves. The thought of what’s under that silky little dress she’s wearing, and the way the coral color compliments her mocha-latte skin, sends blood flooding to my groin. My cock flexes.

I adjust my dick, nice and slow. I rub the head through my slacks, imagining it’s her hand on me. When she notices, she stares out the window.

I chuckle. Damn, I’m a filthy bastard. But that’s all right. Now that she knows what I’m thinking about, it’ll be on her mind too. We’ll see how long it takes her to figure out that all men don’t fit into the mold she’s cast in that ridiculous book of hers.

I wave off the valet eagerly awaiting the chance to open Ronnie’s door and earn a fat tip. Then I show some gallantry by helping Shay from the backseat, even though she did threaten my manhood only a few hours ago. Maybe being nice to her friend will earn me some points with Love ‘Em.

I hand the valet key to the guy in the short jacket and offer an arm to each woman. “Ladies, shall we?”

Somewhere close by, a camera flashes. For once, I ignore the paparazzi and lead my companions into the restaurant. The maître d’ seats us right away in a round booth in the most secluded corner available. I settle in to enjoy the fun.

A few minutes go by, but Baxter Ransom finally shows up as we planned.

Shay scoots out of the booth. “Why are you here?”

“I’m here to eat. Why else?” Ransom smiles.

Shay makes a move like she’s going to leave, but Ronnie leans over and grabs her hand. “Don’t you dare leave me by myself.”

Her friend relents and drops into the booth. Bax takes his seat on the other side of Shayna, so she has to scoot.

The weather. The newest exhibit at the Getty. The construction zones clogging up traffic. The holiday decorations festooning this restaurant. All topics designed to keep the conversation moving and everyone seated, with no one storming out.

Ronnie peruses her menu, and then she glances at me. “I noticed the paparazzi outside. Do you find yourself dodging them a whole lot?”

Bax laughs. “The paparazzi sometimes end up dodging Jack—his hand reaching for their cameras. His fists.”

Ronnie’s eyebrows shoot up.

I take a swig of my whiskey. “Hey, that guy deserved everything he got. He was way past out of line. You don’t follow someone into the bathroom. That’s beyond wrong.”

Shayna throws back her head and laughs out loud.

Ronnie giggles behind her hand, her brown eyes shining. “What was he trying to get a picture of?”

“Jackson’s infamous johnson. What else?” Bax laughs so hard that half the restaurant turns to look.

Both ladies gape.

I shrug. “Well, it is legendary. But still, way the fuck out of bounds.”

When Ronnie finally relaxes, I slide my hand under the tablecloth and find the silky skin of her thigh below her hem. Her back straightens as though a gun has been shoved between her shoulder blades.

She shoots me side eyes. Her nostrils flare, and she sucks in a breath between clenched teeth. Leaning toward me, she grinds out her words through the corner of her mouth. “What are you doing?”

I scoot closer to her. “Enjoying dinner with some new friends.”

Her fingers pry at my hand, but she can’t shake me loose without making a scene. Finally, she digs into her purse, coming out with a piece of paper and a pen. She scrawls a note.

Get your hand off my leg!!!

Taking the pen, I reply. Open up for a little pre-dinner feel good.

She jerks her legs together as though that’s going to discourage me. It does the opposite. I walk my fingers closer to that tantalizing place that I’ve been thinking about all day.

I tickle the top of her mound through the thin fabric of her dress. She coughs and slides away from me a smidge more, but she underestimates the length of my arm. She can’t get away.

Ronnie chews on that luscious bottom lip. I knew it—she’s too straight-laced to embarrass herself.

The next few weeks will be fun. Before the sun rises, I’ll get to taste that lip again, and the ones below as well. Those are the ones I really want. My cock hardens at the thought.

Then again, little Miss Love ‘Em might be too goody-goody to get dirty with the likes of me.

Too damn bad. An itch this strong demands to be scratched. I’m going to have a taste of that brown sugar before I have to back off because of the bet.

I trace circles around her bud until she squirms and all but pants.

She tries so hard to play it off as though nothing is going on below her belt. “So, Shay, why don’t you tell Baxter and Jackson about your new car?”