"You going to let me feed you, cowgirl?" Jason asks me.
I consider telling him that I'm not hungry, but I am hungry…and getting to spend a little bit of time with him appeals to me on levels it definitely shouldn't. I like him way too much already. I just don't know if I can trust him.
"Please?" His plea is soft, but intense, like he's pleading with me on more than one level.
I cave quicker than Lauren did, snapping my mouth closed to nod.
His grin is even bigger than Knox's was.
Stay strong, I remind myself. Don't fall for him.
Except…I think it may already too late for that.
"You're really not goin' to share with me?" Jason asks, grinning at me from his place beside me on the bench in the corner of Noni's Pizzeria. Knox and Lauren are on the other side of the booth, but they're not paying us any attention. They've had their heads together, whispering back and forth since we got to the little pizzeria across from the office.
"I never share pizza. Especially not Noni's pizza." The little old lady who owns the place is magic. She makes the best pizza. I would eat here every day if I could get away with it, but I guess living off pizza isn't particularly healthy. Whoever made that rule clearly never had Noni's sourdough pizza.
"Oh yeah?"
"I love it."
"I can see that," he says, watching me eat with amusement lighting his blue eyes. He's barely touched his sandwich. I tried to warn him that he should get the pizza, but he didn't listen. There's no way I'm sharing with him. "Watchin' you eat is sexy as hell."
"Is not," I mumble before popping a piece of red pepper in my mouth.
He scoots closer to me, so close his thigh presses against mine. He brushes the loose pieces of my hair out of his way and then tilts his face toward mine like he's going to tell me a secret.
"I keep imaging those pretty lips wrapped around me while you make that sound," he says, his breath stirring pieces of my hair. His lips brush my earlobe.
Goosebumps race up and down my arms and my nipples pucker. I shiver, clenching my thighs together as the ache between them intensifies to torturous levels.
"You keep moanin' like that, and I'm not going to be responsible for what I do, pretty baby."
"Jason." I dig my fingernails into my palms, trying to keep myself from reaching for him.
"I'm jealous as hell that you're going out with another man," he growls. His teeth close around my earlobe, nipping hard enough to make my legs tremble. "I can't stand thinkin' about him touching you, kissing you, tryin' to make you his."
I whine low in my throat, knowing if I open my mouth, I'm going to moan loud enough for the entire restaurant to hear me. Or, worse, I'll beg him to make me come again in front of all these people. I've never wanted anyone as badly as I want him. No one has ever made me dizzy with desire or made my heart race and my stomach dip and spin wildly like he does.
When he's close to me, my skin hums, as if there's a literal spark igniting the air around me…around us. It's intense and terrifying. I want so badly to trust that he won't freak out once he knows exactly how rich my family is. I want to be his.
"You're mine, pretty baby," he says like he's reading my mind. "Lettin' you go out with another man is going to fucking kill me, but I'm not goin' to ask you not to go tonight."
Wait…what?
I blink, caught off guard by his announcement. It's a total 180 from this morning.
"W-wh…" I lick my lips, trying to work moisture back into my mouth. "Why not?"
"Because I know you'll be thinking about me the whole time you're with him."
He's probably right about that.
"I know you'd rather be with me tonight, but I hurt you and you're afraid to trust me. That's on me." His lips touch my ear again, gently this time. He doesn't try to make me feel guilty for being hesitant to jump in with both feet. But I think that makes me feel even guiltier for agreeing to go out with Richard. "I'm going to earn your trust back, sweet Miranda. And then I'm going to give us both what we need."
"What do we need?" I whisper, not sure what he's talking about.
He grabs my hand, pulling it toward him to unclench my fingers. Once that's done, he notices the indentions from my fingernails in my palm and makes this noise in the back of his throat like he's upset to see them there. His head bows over my hand, his lips ghosting across the red marks.
My heart melts at the sweet gesture.
And then he sends me spiraling into heady desire all over again by placing my hand in his lap, right over his groin. He's hard again, his erection like granite beneath the fly of his suit pants. My cheeks flame, worry that someone might see what he's doing shooting through me.
But Lauren and Knox are still completely focused on one another, and no one else in the restaurant is sparing us any attention whatsoever. They're all wrapped up in their own conversations or their own meals.
The naughty part of me that he woke up last night rears its head. Before I can stop myself or even think about it, I cup his erection in my hand, stroking him through his pants. His body turns to steel, the breath leaving his lungs in a whoosh of sound that sends my hair dancing all around my face again.
I was right last night. He is huge.
He lets me touch him for a moment before he grabs my hand and pulls it away.
"Keep that up and I'll be breakin' my own rules, cowgirl," he growls in my ear before nipping me again and then linking our fingers together so we're holding hands. His engulfs mine in a way that's as erotic as it is sweet. I don't know how he manages to make me feel so safe, but when he's around, I know nothing bad will ever touch me. Maybe that's because he was a cop. Or maybe it's just him. I don't know, but I love it.
"You were a detective?" I ask him, reaching for my pizza with my free hand because, hello, it's delicious and I'm almost as hungry as I am horny.
"I was."
"Why'd you quit?"
"Got tired of working all the time," he says and then takes a bite of his sandwich. He chews before continuing, "Decided it was time to do somethin' different. And Grant pays a helluva lot better than Nashville did."
The topic of money makes my stomach flutter and churn.
"I don't care about money, Jason," I whisper, hating that he thinks I'm shallow enough to care how much he makes. He could live in a shack and make minimum wage and I'd still be attracted to him. I'd still want to be with him. Knowing he thinks that's what's important to me stings.
"You think I don't know that?" he asks, pulling me closer when I try to pull away. "I didn't bring it up because I think you're after money, Miranda. Just wanted you to know that it doesn't matter how much you're worth, you won't need any of it. I want to be the one to take care of you. I want to spoil you."
"I don't need to be spoiled."
"Maybe not, but you deserve to be spoiled." He leans toward me again, pressing his lips to my temple and then to my cheek. "My mama raised me right. And believe me, pretty baby, taking care of you ain't a hardship on my part. I know exactly how precious you are. Knew it the minute I saw you last night."