It was so dirty. So unexpected.
So Ink.
Her heart raced. She couldn’t believe that had just happened.
“Mama would roll over in her grave if she just saw that.”
He raised his eyebrows and gave her a look. “That a good thing or a bad thing?”
The question was unexpected. She thought it over for about half a second. “A good thing.”
He burst into laughter.
Ink kept their talk light while they ate. He wanted her relaxed and happy. He also wanted her to eat. He wouldn’t lie, he was worried about how thin she was. He had wondered if she was just naturally thin, but she was starting to get gaunt. She’d lost weight in the last month since he’d first met her.
And he didn’t like it. It pulled at his protective instincts. The Daddy in him wanted to take over and insist on feeding her by hand.
Another time.
For this first date, he wanted it to be Ink and Betsy.
Although that hadn’t stopped him from going all Dom on her ass when she’d tried to order a damn salad.
Gah. Salad. Rabbit food. Like he was going to sit here and eat a steak while she ate that shit.
Yeah, he hadn’t been lying about his hatred for anything green. Not that she’d get away with not eating healthily. There were plenty of green things in her future.
He had a total double-standard and he wasn’t going to apologize for it. Just like he wasn’t going to apologize for not letting her make her own decision about what to eat for dinner. While she was big, she could always decide for herself what to eat.
As long as it was something he approved of.
Yes, he was a caveman.
And no, he didn’t fucking care.
Ink had learned a long time ago that he wasn’t going to apologize for the messed-up ass that he could be. Luckily, he had plenty of redeeming qualities. Like what he could do with his tongue. His fingers. His mouth.
So she’d ended up with an oven-baked chicken breast along with some grilled vegetables while his plate held a steak about as big as his face.
Perfect.
She pushed her plate away with a sigh, rubbing her tummy. He eyed the mostly full plate but decided against saying anything. Yet.
But her diet was something he was going to address eventually.
“You want another drink, brown eyes?”
She’d nearly finished her white wine. He’d stuck to soda in case she needed him to drive her home. While he usually had a one-beer allowance when he was driving, he wouldn’t even drink that much if she was in the car.
Precious cargo.
“Oh no, thank you. Truth is, I feel a bit tipsy just from that one drink.”
“You’re not driving home then. I can take you. Or I can see you into a taxi.”
“I…that…” She leaned up and shocked the shit out of him by kissing him. It wasn’t normal for her to make the first move. But he soon got over his surprise and returned the kiss. He wrapped his hand around the back of her neck, holding her there as he tasted her, drank from her, as her scent wrapped around him.
His dick, which had only just calmed down from when he’d been fingering her, hardened, pressing against his jeans.