Page 86 of Jax

“Now,” I huffed. “Where were we?”

My hands went to her waist, and she didn’t resist as I pulled her in closer. But as I went for the kiss, Ronnie’s head jerked backward.

I tensed.

“What’s up?”

“I’ve got a better idea.” Ronnie smirked, and I knew that little glint in her eye.

“What are you up to, Little Miss Ronnie Marsh?” I purred, the no-good telltales across her face, alongside a soft, cute blush rolling onto the tops of her cheeks.

“How about a date?”

“A date?” I looked up to the sky in pondering, tugging her into my chest. “Why?”

“You had one of my firsts, so how about I take one of yours?”

“A first kiss is hardly worthy of a first date,” I teased, watching her eyes turn into an angry little glower. I didn’t know why, but I couldn’t help pissing her off.

It wasn’t like Wolf and Anna, who got their rocks off on starting a fight with each other. This kind tasted sweet on the tip of my tongue, seeing those little angry eyes looking just at me and me alone. I couldn’t resist it.

“Don’t get full of yourself, asshat,” Ronnie grunted, giving me a sharp pinch, shoving away from me. “If you don’t want to graduate from your date-virginity, then you can stay a cherry-boy forever.”

I laughed.

“Fine, fine.” I lunged back for her, arms coming around hers as I stopped her escape. She had barely gotten two feet anyway—she hadn’t even tried to fight me.

Good girl.

“A date it is,” I whispered into her ear, pressing a soft kiss against the side of her cheek and tasting the bitter dirt stuck to her skin.

Goddamn horse.

“But you gotta make it good. I want my first time to be memorable.”

“Don’t worry, princess.” Ronnie smirked. “It will be.”

“Will there be food?” My teeth nipped against the top of her ear.

“Yes,” she gasped.

“Will there be music?” My hand slipped under the rim of her shirt, her stomach flinching at my touch, hips backing into my front.

“Yes.”

“Will there be sex?” I purred, making sure my teeth blew into the hollow of her ear. She shivered.

“Maybe.” Her hand went for my jeans, clutching them tight as her weight tipped back into mine, legs weakening beneath my touch.

“Just maybe…?” I growled, my hand sliding higher toward her bra.

“If you’re good.”

“Baby,” I tutted, my hand slipping down the cup of her bra. “I’m never good.”

Her breath shuddered, her head lolling back to my shoulder. Anticipation built as my finger ringed around her areola.

“Fine,” she gasped on a caving breath.

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