Page 65 of Forever Wild
“Good to see you both,” Jack says, then, “Ready?”
It hits me then that we don’t have to wait in line.
“I promise this wasn’t a ploy to get in quicker,” I say.
“No?” His mouth quirks up at the corners. “Just a ploy to torture me in that dress?”
“More like a ploy to get me out of it.”
He shakes his head, but not before giving me another once-over.
We follow him into Midnight. I love the way he walks with apurpose and an air of confidence. The guards tip their heads and let us by without a word. Even people who don’t recognize him move out of the way, making a path for us. He heads to the end of the bar where he’s immediately served.
“What do you want to drink?” he asks as he places a hand on my lower back. The red dress hugs my curves tightly and feels like butter against my skin. The heat of his palm travels through the thin material, and I have to restrain myself from lifting up on my toes so his fingers are resting a little lower.
He’s staring down at me, waiting for an answer.
“Champagne.”
He quirks one brow.
“We’re celebrating.”
He gets Grace and Lane’s requests then orders everything. Turning so his body is angled toward me, he asks, “What are we celebrating?”
“You being out of the house, for starters.”
His lips twist into a sexy smirk.
“And I got a new dress.”
His stare rakes over me slowly like he’s appreciating every centimeter of said dress.
“Do you like it?”
He leans in. “I’d like it better if you’d worn it over to my house. Every guy in this club is staring at you.”
“Jealous?”
“No.” He pulls back.
“No?” I’m surprised by his answer. The way he looks at me, the way his fingers dig in tighter on my back, gives away his possessiveness.
“I’ve slammed plenty of guys into the boards for a lot less than looking at my girl.”
“Yourgirl?” I ask pointedly.
His answer is a Cheshire cat grin. So fucking cocky and confident.
A nervous chuckle escapes from my lips. I feel like for the first time with Jack, I might be in over my head. “So you’re just going to beat up anyone that looks at me?”
“Exactly.” He winks, and a steady throb starts between my legs. Did I wear this dress hoping to blow his mind? Guilty. Am I regretting that now that I know he might punch anyone that looks at me too long? Maybe.
“You look beautiful.”
The compliment takes me by surprise. I guess I’m used to guys who only say things like that to me when they’re trying to take me home for the night.
“You know I’m basically a sure thing, right? You don’t need to use your pretty words on me.”
