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Maybe he would with Jonathan at the table.
I feel another tug of regret that he’s not here. I would banish it, but there’s no time.
As if summoned by my thoughts, the man in question comes sauntering over to our table, hands shoved in his pockets.
Feeling me tense in surprise, Milo turns to see what has caught my attention.
“Would you look at that? The prodigal son returns,” he says dryly.
Since Jonathan is on our side of the table and I’m currently sideways on Milo’s lap, his gaze drifts to his dad’s hand beneath my dress and he smirks. Milo had to pull up my floor-length gown to get under it, so a lot of my legs and thighs are showing.
I expect Milo to pull the material down to cover me since Jonathan is clearly looking.
Instead, he slides his hand higher and palms my pussy.
Mine, he declares without words.
I gasp at the possessiveness of his touch, heat and tension gathering instantaneously in my lower belly.
Absently rubbing my pussy through my white bridal panties, Milo keeps his gaze trained on Jonathan. “Back for dessert?”
He pushes a thumb into me and I fight a groan. Beset by wickedness, apparently, he moves it, rubbing my clit and making it nearly impossible to sit still or keep quiet.
I shift, trying to regulate my breathing, but it’s too hard. “Milo,” I whisper, gripping his shoulder.
I want him to stop, but I want him to keep going, too.
Hehasto stop, though. Doing that to me when we’re alone having breakfast or even at home on the couch is one thing, but doing ithere, in public, withso many peoplearound? He can’t.
I reach down and gently pull his hand away.
He cocks a dark eyebrow, then casually sticks his thumb in my mouth. “Suck.”
My face burns doing it in public, but I wrap my lips around his thumb and suck off my own arousal.
Approval glints in his beautiful blue eyes and makes my tummy flutter. “Good girl,” he rumbles, leaning in to give me a soft kiss on the cheek.
Finished making trouble for the moment, apparently, he shifts his attention back to his son. “Are you gonna sit down?”
Jonathan’s gaze flickers to me. “Actually, I was hoping for a dance.”
My tummy flutters. “There’s no music.”
He smirks and jerks his thumb back in the direction of the DJ Milo’s been paying off when we needed a dance. “There will be when we head out on the floor.”
I look at Milo. “Do you mind?”
He glances at his son, then meets my gaze. I search for some sign hedoesn’twant me to dance with Jonathan, but he smiles faintly and shakes his head. “Of course not,” he says rather convincingly. “Go ahead.”
“You sure?”
He nods and kisses me on the top of the head.
I turn my body so I can climb off his lap, but before I can, Jonathan startles the hell out of me by kneeling down on the floor in front of me. I’m too startled to react as he firmly grabs one leg and pushes my dress up when it starts to fall.
“Wh-what are you doing?”
He smirks, sliding his hands down my leg and sending chills up my spine, then he fingers the buckle on my pretty white sandals. “You came undone. Didn’t want you to trip.”
