Then I crouch in front of her, taking her ankle between my fingers, and slowly guide her foot into her shoe. It slips on easily, her hands resting on my shoulders to balance as I fasten the delicate buckle.
Carefully, I come to my feet once both are in place and secure, and I straighten until I’m looming over her. Like I always am, I’m reminded how much smaller she is than me, even with heels on.
“You look incredible,” I tell her, meaning every word.
She always looks amazing, but this dress and the way it hangs off her body is something else. Every part of me itches to push itup over her thighs and sink into her wet heat, but we do have a reservation and I want her to eat.
“You look pretty handsome yourself,” she says, adjusting the collar of my shirt.
By the time we get to the restaurant, I’m vibrating with need. My pretty little wife has no idea how hard it is to sit across from her looking like this and not fuck her until she’s full of my cum and can’t remember her name.
The hostess greets us at the door and leads us over to a table in the far corner. I pull the chair out for Mia, waiting while she’s seated, and then I claim my own chair.
I don’t know how I got so lucky. She’s everything I ever wanted and truthfully, I don’t know many women who would put up with my shit.
I’m not the easiest man to deal with and I know that.
Even though I’ve grown over the last few months, I still can’t let of my fear entirely or my need to protect and control her safety.
“You’re staring,” she comments, unfolding her napkin.
“Because you’re beautiful.”
Even though I tell her that a hundred times a day, Mia still flushes and lowers her lashes like we’re newly dating. “You’re biased.”
“Unapologetically so.”
Her gaze drops to her hand, to the understated diamond sitting behind her wedding band. I’m not sure what she’s thinking, but when she looks up at me, her eyes are soft. “Can you believe it’s been six years since we got married?”
I hum. “We should do it again.”
Her brow flicks up. “I don’t think either of us would survive another family wedding.”
She’s not wrong. There were too many personalities, too many moving parts. It had been an amazing day but therewas too much ceremony, too much bending to other people’s expectations.
Not to mention half the people who came to our wedding no longer are in our lives—including both sets of parents.
“Maybe this time we elope,” I say, taking her hand, and running my finger over the rings.
Just another symbol of how she’s mine.
“Where to?”
“Vegas is the obvious place.”
She snorts. “You want to get remarried with a fake Elvis between the slot machines?”
“Why not?”
“Because I’m seven and a half months pregnant and we’re already married.”
I kiss her knuckles, my mouth lingering like I’m savoring the feel of her skin beneath my lips.
“Mia!” At the sound of her name, my back stiffens, and I’m already moving to position myself between her and the threat.
My lip curls before I can stop it. Jacob fucking Landry approaches the table like he has any right.
Every instinct screams at me to get between him and her, but he’s a client, one that Mia might not like, but for some reason wants to keep sweet. I could literally kill the guy with my bare hands, the way he looks at my wife.
