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“I can’t, Jessie. I want to eat this pussy on our way home later, and I much prefer it when it’s only your cum I’m tasting.”
“Then pull out,” I offer as he rubs his thumb against my clit and stars begin to flicker behind my eyelids.
He laughs softly. “You know I can’t do that. Besides where else would I come? I don’t want to spoil your beautiful dress.”
“I don’t care,” I gasp as I ride his fingers, chasing the orgasm that I know he’s deliberately withholding now.
“You would when we got to the restaurant, Jessie. Trust me,” he chuckles as he pulls me closer to him, stilling my hips so he can push deeper inside me and press that sweet spot that makes my entire body tremble.
“Shane!” I shout as my climax washes over me in delicious rolling waves.
“That’s my girl,” he chuckles in between peppering my neck with soft bites and kisses.
Chapter 12
Jessie
The car rolls to a stop and I peer out the window and smile. This is the little Italian restaurant in Brooklyn where we came for pizza the night the boys proposed to me. Back in Ireland, Shane made me an offer that his brothers still don’t know about and they never will. He suggested that I could marry Conor and have a regular life with a husband and babies, and he and the twins would step back if that was what I truly wanted.
It was the day of their father’s funeral when I finally gave him my answer – and that was that I wouldn’t marry one of them unless I could marry all of them. I have never been able to choose between the four of them and I never want to. I was happy to go on with the four of them as we were, because marrying four people is still illegal in the state of New York. However, I underestimated my husbands. I mean the Ryan brothers don’t operate within the limits of the law for anything else, why would they care about doing that when it came to marriage?
So one night shortly after we came home from Ireland, they brought me here. The place was lit entirely by candlelight and it was empty except for us and halfway through our meal, the four of them dropped to their knees and proposed to me. I have never said yes to a question more quickly in my life.
The place isn’t closed to the public tonight though, and there are diners sitting outside in the warm evening sunshine.
“You’re really bringing the big guns tonight?” I arch an eyebrow at him.
He leans forward, his lips dusting over my ear. “You’ve seen nothing yet,” he growls and my stomach flutters with excitement.
I’m about to ask what else he has planned when the car door is opened by our driver.
Shane climbs out first and holds out his hand to me. “You ready Mrs. Ryan?” he winks at me as I reach for him and my heart swells in my chest. I will never get tired of being called that.
“Sure am,” I grin as I step out of the car, pulling the hem of my short dress down once I’m outside on the street.
Shane slides an arm around my waist and we walk into the restaurant, where the owner, Tony, greets us enthusiastically and seats us in our usual booth near the back. He leaves us with our menus and then walks away with a huge smile on his face. He’s practically squirming with delight and I frown as I watch him walk to the kitchen. Tony knows us and he’s always smiley and happy to see us, like with all of his customers, but he is downright giddy this evening.
“Did he seem like super-buzzed to you?” I ask Shane as I turn back to him.
He is looking at his menu. “Hmm. Didn’t notice,” he mumbles without making eye contact.
“What are you up to, Shane Ryan?”
He looks up from his menu and I arch an eyebrow at him.
He doesn’t answer, instead he looks behind me. I turn in my seat and almost fall off it as I see who’s walking toward us. No wonder Tony was practically squeaking with excitement.
“Is that Carl Paxton?” I whisper as I stare at the silver haired guy in a chef’s uniform making his way to our table.
“Maybe,” Shane replies.
“Oh. My. God! How did you swing this, Shane?” I gasp as I keep my eyes trained on Carl. He’s one of the most famous chefs in the entire world. He’s been on a tour of South Asia recently for his hugely popular cooking show and he only got back to the States yesterday. I know this because I stalk him on Instagram. I spend hours salivating over the images of his dishes, because he’s not just a famous chef, he is world renowned for his desserts. This man can do things with butter and sugar that should be considered illegal. Mikey and I have tried to recreate some of them with varying levels of success.
Tony hovers nervously behind him as Carl finally reaches our table. Some of the other diners also notice him and they swivel their heads and their chairs so they can stare at him too. As well as being known for his incredible culinary skills, he can also be seen cooking shirtless with his toned, tattooed torso on full display to the delight of his millions of followers – both male and female.
Gasps and whispers rumble through the small restaurant as the superstar walks through it with a towel casually slung over his shoulder.
When he finally reaches us, he smiles widely, showing a set of perfect white teeth. Then he holds out his hand to me.
