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“Can we not do a play-by-play?”
“Only way for me to tame this rage is to picture you between my knees.”
My face heats and he lifts my chin, running his thumb across my lips. “Sexy, sweet, wild, off the chains gorgeous, and gives phenomenal head.”
“Ford.” I try to dip away, embarrassment flaming.
“No, baby, look at me and hear what I’m saying. I love that you give me everything that is you. But can you reel that shit in so I’m not fighting off every man in the room?”
“You’re overreacting,” I repeat.
“Wouldn’t change anything about you, Rowan.” His mouth brushes over mine. “Except maybe the fact that you are oblivious to all the attention you bring from merely being in the same room.”
“Don’t turn on the sweet after you hauled me in here like a caveman. We need to improve your manners.”
“You want to give me lessons?” The seductive, low tone sends a prickle down my spine.
“Not a bad idea.” I try to sound strong, but the hitch gives me away.
“How about we start tonight?”
“Okay, first lesson: don’t manhandle your girlfriend in a public place.”
“Noted. But it won’t be a problem because you won’t be away from my side again.”
“And you should apologize to that poor man you threatened.”
“Not happening in this lifetime.”
“Not mannerly. You’re already failing.”
His tongue slips inside, grazing mine before pulling back. “Rowan, you taste like cherries, smell like summer, and look like a goddess. One more minute and I’m fucking you on Tom’s desk.”
A wave of desire sizzles through me and I swallow. “That would definitely be frowned upon.”
He backs away, curling my hand in his. “Let’s go enjoy Jewls’ last night, and then we’ll resume these lessons at home.”
He smirks, knowing he has me, and pulls me gently behind.
When we get back to the bar, Shayla sets a glass of red liquid in my spot.
“What is this?”
“New creation. Drink up and let me know what you think.”
“We figured you’d love it,” Harley giggles. “We’re calling it the Cherry Twister.”
Ford grumbles his opinion,
I don’t dare say it out loud, but it’s cool as hell to have a drink named for me.
23
FORD
I switch off the water and reach for my towel, only to find the hook empty.
“Shit,” I mutter, scrubbing my hands through my hair and leaning back against the wall. Exhaustion seeps into my bones, weighing me down.
