“Jax, about us—”
“This is happening, Ellie. I won’t stop until every part of you belongs to me, from this,” I say, placing my hand over her heart, feeling it pound. Then I run my palm over her breast and down her stomach, over her thigh, and then under the edge of her dress, where I run my fingers over the thin material covering her core. “To this,” I finish.
“Jax—”
“No, baby, now slide off me so I can take you to dinner,” I interrupt.
“But—”
“Slide off,” I rumble, helping her into the passenger seat then buckling her in.
“You’re annoying,” she grumbles.
“You love it, baby. My fingers are still wet and I barely ran them over your panties.” Which is true, but then again, every time I’ve touched her, she’s been wet.
“You didn’t just say that.” She hides her face behind her hair.
Smirking, I pull her hand to my lap then run her palm over my cock. “You’re not the only one,” I tell her, hearing her sharp inhale of breath and groan when her small hand tries to wrap around me through the denim covering my erection.
Before I can say fuck it and pin her to the seat, I pull her hand to my mouth and place a kiss against her fingers settling it back against my thigh, so I can start up my truck and put it in reverse.
When we arrive at the restaurant, it’s after eight and the lot’s still full, which isn’t a surprise. Bryson’s Steakhouse is the place everyone comes to celebrate. I think I’ve spent every birthday and special occasion here since I was ten. Shutting down the truck, I hop out and head around to wait while Ellie adds some glossy shit to her lips that causes them look even fuller than they normally do. Helping her down, I wrap my arm around her waist and lead her inside.
For the first time, I realize that the rustic looking décor and lighting give the restaurant a romantic feel. I’ve never brought a woman here before; I’ve only ever come with family. Luckily, my dad is good friends with Mani Bryson and was able to get us a reservation on short notice.
“Reservation for Mayson,” I tell the ma?tre d’, holding Ellie a little tighter when his eyes sweep over my girl and linger a little too long on her mouth then chest.
I’ve never been jealous; even in school, when I was dating Mellissa and guys would hit on her, I couldn’t have cared less. Ellie is different. I can’t stand the idea of anyone looking at her, and if someone ever has the balls to touch her, I won’t be able to control myself.
“If you’ll follow me,” he says, picking up two menus and leading us through the restaurant.
Placing my hand against Ellie’s back, we cut between tables then stop at one of the booths in the back. My teeth grit when I look to the left and see Mellissa is here with her sister, mom, and dad. Mellissa’s dad, Calder, owns one of the most profitable real-estate agencies in the county. If you drive around and see a for sale sign on a house, it’s his company’s logo normally attached to it. He’s an okay guy, but he’s a pushover and has babied the women in his life.
Mellissa’s mother’s job is to stay home and look pretty, and she has raised both her girls to do the same. They expect everything to be handed to them and whatever man they are with to act like their father, giving them whatever it is they want. And if you don’t fall to your knees and act accordingly, cue the tears and the bitchiness.
Placing Ellie so that she’s faced away from them, I take a seat then raise a brow when the ma?tre d’ stands at the head of the table, staring at Ellie again. “You can go,” I hear myself growl, and I watch Ellie’s cheeks darken as she looks at me and narrows her eyes. Like it’s my fucking fault the kid is checking her out.
“Sorry, would you like to see the wine menu?” he asks suddenly.