Rock Me Faster (Licks of Leather #4) - Jenna Jacob Page 0,33
the fork and issued a moan of unadulterated pleasure, it stretched and hardened.
I needed to stop watching her before I had to make a trek to the men’s room and jack off. Sadly, even a court order couldn’t force my gaze off the sight of her slender throat working the tender mollusk down. I knew then and there how erotic she would look gliding those lips over my cock and swallowing my seed. The temperature in the room shot up a couple thousand degrees. Grabbing a glass of water, I guzzled the cold liquid to put my fire out.
“What is this delicious thing?” She pointed to the other piece on her plate.
Fuck. Any second now, she’d lay the other half on her tongue and make me suffer part deux of cock-throbbing Food Porn.
I swallowed the lust thickening my throat. “That’s a scallop.”
“Wow,” she whispered. “You were right. They are mild, sweet, and buttery, and mmm, so good. I have a new favorite food.”
“What’s it replacing?”
“Bacon.”
Well, what do you know? We actually had something in common.
“That’s at the top of my list, too.” I nodded as the waiter returned with our food.
Harmony looked at the filet in front of her, then slid a longing glance at my scallops. Without a word, I reached over and lifted her plate away, sliding mine in its place.
“What are you doing?” Her blue eyes flashed wide.
“Trading.”
“B-but…this is your meal,” she said, waving at the plate.
“You want steak instead of your new favorite food?”
“No, but…”
“Then it’s settled.” To keep her from protesting any further, I sliced into the tender fillet and popped a piece in my mouth.
“You’re too kind.” Her expression softened and she smiled in gratitude.
From across the table, Quinn cleared his throat.
I glanced up to see a gloating, cocky I told you so, smile stretched across his lips. Narrowing my eyes, I discreetly flipped him the middle finger, then polished off the rest of my steak.
Kenny ducked out early to unlock the coach. A few minutes later, stomachs full and the three ladies each clutching small gold bags containing their desserts, we left the restaurant. As usual, someone had tipped off the press. They started swarming around us like bees and screaming questions as if we were all deaf.
Just as I released Harmony’s hand to wrap my arm around her waist, an eager reporter charged forward, knocking her straight to the ground.
The sight of her petite body skipping over the rough pavement along with her terrified cry filling the air sent a blast of white-hot fury exploding through me. A roar of rage tore from my chest as I grabbed the cockbag by his throat and lifted him off the ground. All around me screams, gasps, and my band brothers’ curses echoed in my ears.
Hoisting the prick above my head, I tossed him like a javelin, taking a handful of media monsters to the ground with him. Then I spun on my heel and rushed toward Harmony, who was still crumpled on the ground. Blood seeped from her elbow and pain wracked her face. Tears pooled in her eyes, but she bravely blinked them away as the rest of our group rushed to help.
“I’ve got her,” I snarled.
Harnessing my fury, I bent and lifted her into my arms and gently cradled her against my chest. As I strode toward the bus, ignoring the people scurrying from my path like rats, Harmony wrapped her arms around my neck.
“Wait,” she cried, pointing to the mangled gold bag on the ground. “My carrot cake.”
“I’ll get you more, princess,” I bit out in a semi-civil tone. “I’ll call the restaurant and have them deliver an entire cake for you to the hotel.”
“You’d really do that for me?”
“Yeah.”
“Oh, Ross,” she whispered, then shook her head. “You don’t have to carry me, I can walk.”
“I know, but I’m not giving anyone else the chance to hurt you.”
No one but you, right? mocked a little voice in my head.
Harmony didn’t argue, simply rested her head on my shoulder and closed her eyes.
Something inside me shifted and a warmth I hadn’t felt in forever began melting the ice in my veins. She felt so right snuggled up against me, yet at the same time, so terrifyingly wrong.
Ignoring the tendrils of panic webbing my system, I focused on Quinn’s voice behind me, cursing the paparazzi and barking at the others to get on the bus.
As I sprinted up the stairs of the coach, Kenny wasn’t behind the wheel.