He turns to Nate. “My keys are in my back pocket.”
“You’re going to let me drive your precious car?”
“Consider it your lucky day.”
I’m too stunned to say a word. Jack doesn’t allow anyone besides Sadie to drive his car , and even that’s a stretch.
Jack buckles me in, then jumps in next to me while Sadie gets in on the other side.
His arm reaches around me, holding me close to his chest. Never once on our fifty-minute drive back to Southampton does he let me go.
If anything, his hold only gets tighter over time, as he occasionally kisses my forehead and strokes my wet, messy hair.
“Belle?”
Startled by Jack’s voice in the distance, I throw down his phone with a shaky hand and sit still as a statue until he comes into view.
Once again, I’m struck by his gorgeous, muscular frame stalking over to me while my emotions are a mix of elation and fury… unsure if I want to kiss or kill him.
The list is one of the sweetest, most thoughtful things I’ve ever come across, but I’ve also come to the conclusion that Jack has loved me for quite a while, and that bloody bastard took all these years to finally do something about it.
Thankfully, his outfit choice breaks me out of my thoughts so that I can, for now, think of something else.
“Yeah, you’re going to need to change immediately.”
He looks down, confused. “What, why?”
“I appreciate the fashion-forward look, but either put some compression shorts under those linen pants, or we’re not going wine tasting.”
His lips turn up, and he swings his hips so his penis swings back and forth.
“Are you even wearing briefs?” I cry.
“Of course, but when you’re blessed with a big dick like me, it can’t be helped.”
“Jackson,” I warn, trying my hardest not to smile.
“What?” He walks up and grinds himself into my arse. “You. Love. Big. Dicks, and you cannot lie.”
“Oh my God!” I burst out laughing and try to run away from this man. Why does his brain even work like this?
He catches up to me, spinning me around, biting my neck. “Are you jealous someone will see my cock, B?”
“Yes,” I huff, not even trying to deny it. “Women are worse than men.”
“Oh please, I doubt that.”
“Men have zero brain cells when checking out a woman. It’s like they go stupid, standing there with their mouths open and eyes wide. We women are crafty. We can stare discreetly, tracing the outline, imagining what it would look and feel like—are you a grower or a shower? Especially from someone as gorgeous as you. All of this happens without you even knowing. So I’m not going to be with you like this unless you want me to kill off all the women in our path.”
He bites his lip, smirking down at this dick. “I’m a groweranda shower.”
“Oh, you wanker, go change, will you.”
Jackson
Belle leans into me, whispering dreamily, “It’s beautiful here, isn’t it?”
“It is,” I confirm, glancing around the picturesque scenery before us. The sun is starting to set over the rolling hills, the twinkling lights shine above us, threaded through an ancient trellis filled with climbing vines of roses.
