Love 'Em: A Bad Boy Romance (4 page)

Oh good Lord. The bird now vibrates.

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

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?”

When dinner arrives, I have to relinquish that sweet spot I’ve
fondled for the last half hour. My dick is rock hard. Ronnie’s breathing is
erratic and trembles when she exhales. She’s been getting looks from Shayna for
the past ten minutes.

When the waiter sets my steak in front of me, I rub my upper
lip with my fingers, inhaling her sweet peach scent with a smile.

“It all smells so
delicious
.” I wink at her.

She almost blanches. I bet if I touched her neck right now,
it’d be a hundred and nine degrees.

“You’ve been awful quiet the last few minutes, Ronnie.”
Bax’s eyes twinkle as he tosses a look at Shayna, and she whips her head away
as though she can’t stomach looking at him.

Ronnie pushes at Shay. “Pardon me, please. I need to go to the
ladies’ room.”

Bax and I stand, both of us adjusting the fronts of our suit
jackets. Can’t be sure, but I think he’s enjoyed Ronnie’s discomfort as much as
I have. Well, probably not
quite
as much.

Ronnie takes her shawl with her, folding it over her arm
when she climbs from the booth. It hangs in front of what I’m certain must be a
tell-tale wet spot on the front of her dress. Fuck, that’s hot.

She leaves the table, and Shayna follows. I can only imagine
how
that
conversation is going to go. I chuckle.

Bax leans toward me from his side of the booth, his flatware
in-hand, ready to cut his prime rib. He points at me with the business end of
his steak knife. “You, my friend, are a sick fuck. Ballsy. Reminds me of—well,
me
.”

“Yeah, I know. We’re a couple of twisted fuckers, aren’t we?”

He holds his whiskey and soda up in salute.

I tip my glass against his. “To the women who warm our
beds—”

He chimes in with me, “—and suck our cocks.”

The girls return, each with determined looks on their faces.
Wonder what that’s all about?

I cut into my porter house, and we get down to the business
of eating. Every time Ronnie puts her fork into her mouth, I imagine it’s my
dick she’s wrapping those puffy lips around. This thought keeps me hard through
the entire meal.

This is new. I mean, women have always turned me on, but
I’ve never had quite this much of a fantasy life about one I only met a few
days ago. But damn, this woman is as fuckable as they come—full breasts, flawless
skin just waiting to be tasted, and an ass that makes me want to take her from
behind and pound that pussy until we both come, sweating and screaming. I’ve
got to tap that ass so I can move on.

I slip my finger under the elastic of her panties. My cock
goes granite hard. No curls, nothing but smooth skin all the way to that
honeyed little bead.

My hard-on is about ready to burst out of my slacks. I take
Ronnie’s hand and guide it to the ridge in my pants. She hesitates, but then her
fingers dance over my raging erection.

Oh, yeah. She’s enjoying the shit out of this.

Dirty girl.

Good Lord. What does he have in there? A freaking fire hose?

As well hung as a mule? He just might be.

My heart loses its rhythm when Jackson presses on my clit
and his finger pushes down between my lips, dipping into my entrance. I let out
a tiny sound.

Shay tosses me a glare. I smile, trying to play off like I don’t
have the prince of late night’s finger swimming in my drenched pussy, two feet
from her, hidden only by a tabletop and a very thin cloth.

As his finger moves in and out, I part my legs to give him
better access.

This is so wrong. I don’t even like this guy, but—the way—he—oh,
God—makes me—I bite my bottom lip to keep from making that sound again. I want to
hop up on the table and let him lick it. Suck it. Fuck it.

I check around the room. Does anyone else know what’s going
on?

Well, besides our table partners. Because after that
filleting I received in the ladies’ room, I have no doubt that it’s more than
obvious to them.

If they know, too bad. Tell me I’m a goody two-shoes. I’m not.
This proves it. I break rules. I’m breaking a big one right now. No one knows. Well—I
do. Jackson does. Shay does.

Screw Shay. If she wanted to, she’d lie on the table, hike
her skirt, and let someone eat
her
for dessert and think nothing of it. So
what if I’m the one to have a little fun for once? I can break any rule I want.

I lick my lips and open my legs more as I pop open the snap at
his fly. His dick springs free. Commando. Why did that always seem gross until
Jackson? Because his cock is huge? Because I really want him naked, so no
underwear works for that plan? Maybe a bit of both.

I take his silky shaft in my hand, sliding my fingers to its
head. My thumb finds the drop of pre-cum on the end of his massive cock. I smear
the soft liquid over the head of his erection, and it jumps under my fingers.

The waiter stops. “Is everything all right here?”

Jackson looks to me, eyebrow raised, his finger swirling up
from my depths to circle my clit. “You all right, Ronnie? You have
everything
you need?”

I swallow hard, my cheeks heating. “I’m good for now. I might
need something
further
in a little bit. Thanks. How about
you,
Jackson?”

He loosens his tie even more. “For the moment, I’m all right.
But I agree. Later, I’ll definitely need
something
extra.”

The waiter nods. “Yes, sir. I’ll check back in a short while
then.”

Shayna scoots down in the booth a tad. “You two,
really
?”

Baxter looks at her, surprise on his face, but then he grins
and nods in our direction. “Y’all go right on ahead. Not bothering me a damn
bit.”

My cheeks burn, but Baxter’s encouragement seems to fire up Jackson
in a different way. His cock hardens in my grip as I slide my fingers up and
down. He increases his pace at my slit.

The pressure in my pussy builds with each swipe of his
finger over my bud. I bite my bottom lip as I try to fight the urge to buck
against Jack’s hand. Instead, I throw my leg over his, making more room for him
to move.