For fuck’s sake, I should have more self-control than this at forty-eight years old.
I clenched my jaw so tightly that my teeth threatened to crack.
Pull yourself together.
Thank God for Barrett speaking up, drawing my attention away from her.
“The bookstore hosts a charity sale for the holidays,” he said. “The proceeds go to kids in need—gifts, clothing, food, stuff like that. Ruby and her best friend pick up no less than a dozen books there. Every year.”
Ruby wiggled in her seat, bright-eyed with anticipation.
“My Christmas shopping isn’t complete until I’ve added at least one new book to my bookshelf.”
“Sounds like serious business,” I replied.
She gave a sage nod.
“It is. So many books, so little time.”
“And I suppose you’re going to drag me to this book sale as well? As part of the ongoing Christmas festivities you’re subjecting me to.”
“Of course.” Ruby flicked her menu closed and propped her elbow on the table, resting her chin in her hand. “Sierra is bringing her husband, Dash. You two can talk. He’s a biker, too.”
“Dash,” I said with some familiarity. “Why does that ring a bell?”
Ruby dug around in her purse until she found her phone and pulled up a picture of a couple on their wedding day—a curvy little cutie, smiling from ear to ear at the camera in her white gown, with a tattooed groom standing behind her, arms wrapped around her waist. He wasn’t looking at the camera. He only had eyes for her.
“You might know him as Levi?” Ruby offered. “He married Sierra last Christmas when he was passing through town. He used to be a nomad, but he’s been hanging out with the Reckless Order lately. I haven’t heard if he’s planning to join or not.”
“Yeah, I vaguely recognize him. Our paths probably crossed on the road at some point. Montana, I think? I have biker friends in Brightwater, so I stayed there for a few weeks during the summer."
Ruby poked a finger into my chest.
“You’re not allowed to poison him with your humbug nonsense. Sierra and Dash are celebrating their first Christmas in their new home together, and you—” she added, punctuating her words with another poke, “—aren’t going to ruin their fun. Got that, Mr. Grinch?”
Fuck, she needed to stop touching me. My cock couldn’t handle it.
“Your daughter missed her calling, Barrett,” I said. “She could have been a drill sergeant. Shouldn’t you do something about that bossy streak of hers?”
He snorted.
“Like what? She’s old enough to have her own kids by now. Besides, I stopped grounding her when she was sixteen. It didn’t do any good.”
Ruby preened, smug with her victory. I narrowed my eyes.
“A decent spanking should straighten her out. Doesn’t matter how old she is.”
Her smile faltered and her spine straightened. Something flickered in her brown eyes—fleeting, but impossible to miss.
Arousal. Desire. The burning, ravenous hunger of an appetite that had been awakened, ignited.
Oh, shit.
This was not helping the state of my cock. I shifted in my seat, tugging at the ever-tightening crotch of my jeans in a futile attempt to get some relief and cool down my rapidly growing hard-on. Why the hell did I stick my foot in my mouth like that? Talking aboutspanking? At the damn dinner table? What the fuck was wrong with me?
And now, my mind was taking off with that fantasy.
Bending Ruby over my knee. Peeling her jeans down to reveal a lacy set of white, barely-there panties. Peeling those down too as she squirmed and pleaded a babbling string of nonsense.
