“You said you were hungry,” I tell her shutting off the truck.
“This is the wrong diner,” she grumbles.
“This is the one you’re getting.” I jump out of the truck, walk around and open her door. She hasn’t moved. She’s looking straight ahead at the restaurant, then back at me. When she doesn’t make a move, I reach in and unbuckle her seatbelt. It’s an operation in torture being this close to her tits and not diving in head first, or maybe dick first. Fuck, those babies would wrap around my cock so fucking good. I have to shake my head and file away the image of my cum dripping down her neck, running down her breast, sliding around the nipple…
Son of a bitch, I jacked off twice this morning, and I already know when I leave Bree with Beth and Katie, I’m going to be spanking the monkey again. Christ, the woman is like walking Viagra.
Her hand comes down and clasps mine at her waist, stopping me from making sure the belt goes back without hitting her. I look up and those deep hazel eyes capture me. I watch as flakes of green sink into the brown, her pupils large and dilated. It’s then I notice her breathing has jumped. I even catch a glimpse of that pink tongue between those lips I’ve been fantasizing about.
“Jax…” she whispers, confused. I want to kiss her. Her lips are right there, ripe for the taking. My body literally shakes with the need, but I lock the urge down and contain it. I might not be able to freeze her out, but I can’t go there. I can’t…even if she wasn’t the granddaughter of the Chrome Saints, she’s in high school for Christ’s sake. Hell, it’s a wonder I don’t have a daughter her age walking around. That thought helps douse the hard-on a little. Enough so I can walk without my balls protesting at least.
“Come eat with me Bree,” I tell her, hoping I made sense, because in my head it’s her I want to eat. She nods once in agreement, and I help her down from the truck. If my hand accidentally brushes against the curve of her ass a little too long, I can’t be blamed. I’m only fucking human here.
We make it inside, and I slide in next to her at the booth. It’s nothing fancy, but their food is good. I don’t eat here often, it’s why I picked this place. Hoping no one I know sees us. Not because I’m embarrassed, I just don’t want anyone getting the wrong idea.
The waitress takes our drink order and hands us a menu. Bree’s quiet for a bit, at least until she gets her drink. That’s when I feel her eyes narrow on me.
“You confuse me, Jax.”
“I’m pretty much a what you see is what you get kinda man,” I tell her and it’s not a lie. I always have been, at least until she walked into my world and twisted me up in knots.
“If you say so. I’ll just take chicken strips,” she says. I order her chicken and me a burger. Then I sit back and wait. I throw my hand over the back of our booth and stare straight ahead, wondering what the fuck to do now. When I hear Bree sigh I look over at her.
“If you were just going to ignore me, you could’ve just driven me straight to Beth’s. I would’ve found food there.”
“I’m not ignoring you.” I don’t offer any further explanation. Glancing around the dining room, I look at the rustic décor. A picture of John Wayne hangs on the wall under a longhorn skull.
“It sure feels like it. If you don’t like me why are you picking me up? I’m sure one of the others would have.” She fidgets with the red and white checkered napkin, unfolding the silverware.
“I told you I’d pick you up and I did. I keep my word.” My word is the one thing I have.
“Well, you shouldn’t have bothered if it’s gonna be a struggle to talk to me.”
“I can talk,” I offer. “What do you want to talk about?” I angle my body towards her, and she turns into me. The sweet smell of her hair hits me. Sitting beside her was a bad choice, but what can I say, I’m a glutton for punishment.
“Okay then. How’d you get the name Shaft?”
I go tense. “About anything but that.”
“What? Why?” she scoffs.
“You’re too young,” I answer her honestly, knowing she’ll be insulted by my choice of words.
“You heard the part where I’m eighteen right? I’m pretty sure that’s adulthood in most countries.” She rolls her eyes, and I want to bend her over my knee right here and spank her ass.
I deadpan, “I think you’re confusing that with twenty-one.”
“The right to drink has nothing to do with being an adult. I’d say I’m more adult than any twenty-one-year-old I know,” she counters smirking those thick lips at me, lips I’d love to have wrapped around my cock. I’ve got to stop thinking about her like this. Nothing good can come from it.