Page 56 of Tangled Vows

“He’s right. You should be with your husband.” Warmth suffused me at his words. I couldn’t speak through my tight throat, so I nodded my agreement and slid into the passenger seat as Easton held open the door.

We pulled out of the driveway, and Easton reached across the console to grip my hand. The unexpected gesture caught me off guard, and a small gasp escaped my lips. It was quiet enough noone in the back seat heard it, but Easton glanced over at me as my shoulders stiffened. He laced his fingers through mine and gave them a gentle squeeze.

“Which way?” he asked when we approached the end of the lane. Since Easton didn’t know where we were going, I was responsible for navigating.

“Left,” I instructed, all too aware of the hand holding mine. It shouldn’t have been a big deal, considering the way he'd touched me only hours ago, but this felt oddly intimate as his thumb brushed over my knuckles in gentle strokes.

“Does anyone want to listen to music?” Easton asked.

“I do!” Max chirped excitedly from the back seat. Easton released my hand to reach for the dials on the radio, and I instantly missed his touch. Once he found a station Max was satisfied with, he reached for me again, but this time, he didn’t take my hand. His palm landed on my leg, and I watched as his large hand curled around my thigh. His fingers dug into the flesh as he tightened his grip. The touch was possessive and claiming. Heat pooled in my lower belly, and I instinctively pressed my knees together. My chest heaved as I tried to catch my breath.

We rode like that in silence for a few minutes until we came to a stop sign. Easton turned to face me, silently waiting for further direction. I was all too aware of his hand on my leg and couldn’t speak through my suddenly parched lips. My tongue darted out to wet them, and his eyes tracked the movement before returning to mine. His hand slid higher on my leg, and my breath hitched before I blurted out, “Right.”

Flipping on his turn signal, he flexed his fingers around my thigh again. Every few minutes his hand slid a little higher. By the time we pulled into the parking lot at Slice and Dice, his fingers were so close to the juncture of my thighs, he could’ve brushed the inner seam of my jeans with his pinkie. I was soaking wet when I shakily reached for the button to release myseat belt. It felt like he’d edged me on the entire drive here. Little did I know, he wasn’t done torturing me yet.

41

SHAYLA

“Slice and Dice.” Easton read the brightly lit sign above the door as we approached the front entrance. “Pizza and games.” He halted in his tracks and turned to face me, his eyes searching mine. “You planned this?”

“Yes,” I replied breathily, and his face softened.

“How did you know?”

“I told her,” Roni cut in as she came to stand next to us. She leaned in so only Easton and I could hear. “You know, you should really tell your wife when your birthday is so she isn’t blindsided when it comes up.” She shot him a disapproving glare before disappearing inside the restaurant behind Max and David.

“Thank you for this,” Easton said, taking my free hand in his. The other held his birthday present. “And I’m sorry for not telling you when my birthday is or about our traditions. I didn’t want you to feel obligated to do anything or get me a present.” He nodded toward the brightly wrapped box tucked under my arm.

“It’s okay.” I shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal, but it felt intentional. Like I would never truly be part of his family, so hedidn’t feel the need to include me. I forced a smile and shoved down my disappointment. “Let’s go inside.” He opened the door, and I stepped through, his hand settling on the small of my back as we entered the loud, dimly lit restaurant.

“You can sit anywhere you’d like,” the hostess announced and waved toward the dining area.

Max took off, and the rest of us followed after him until we arrived at a booth big enough to accommodate all of us. David slid into the seat next to Roni and Max, leaving the other side free for Easton and me. Slipping into the cushioned seat, I wedged my purse between us as Easton took his place beside me. He looked at my bag, his brow furrowing in displeasure.

“Why are you so far away?” he asked before plucking my purse from the seat and sliding an arm around me. He tucked my purse between me and the wall. His hand landed on my hip, and he tugged me closer. My jeans-clad ass slid effortlessly across the worn vinyl. “That’s better,” he said and pressed me closer to him. My chest fluttered as his hold tightened on me. I knew he was only doing this for show, but it felt real.Tooreal.

I thought he would release me when the waitress returned to drop off waters and to take our orders, but he didn’t. He grabbed his glass of water with his free hand and took a sip as the hand at my hip dipped beneath the hem of my shirt. His thumb rubbed slow circles over my waist as he placed his order. I wiggled in his grasp, hoping he’d loosen his grip, but he didn’t relent.

“Can I play games while we wait on our food?” Max asked hopefully.

“Sure,” Roni replied.

“I’ll come with you,” David announced as they slid from the booth.

“You coming?” Roni asked, looking at Easton expectantly.

“You guys go ahead. I’ll join you a little bit,” he offered, and we watched their retreating forms until they disappeared intothe arcade. I tried to move away from him now that they were gone, but Easton only tightened his hold on me. He dropped his head, and his nose brushed the shell of my ear. When he spoke, his voice was low and laced with warning.

“If you keep trying to get away, I’ll pull you onto my lap right here in front of everybody.” An involuntary moan fell from my lips, and his free hand disappeared beneath the table and gripped my thigh. He turned into me, shielding my body from any onlookers with his large frame.

“Fuck, Shayla. You can’t make those noises in public.” His hand slid further up my leg until his fingers met the apex of my thighs. I let my legs fall open to grant him access. It wasn’t a conscious move but simple biology taking over. My body craved his touch. And he delivered. He cupped me through my jeans, and a sharp breath hissed between his teeth.

“I bet you’re already soaking wet for me,” he whispered against my temple. To anyone watching, the gesture would seem sweet, but under the table, he pressed his fingers against my clit, applying enough pressure to make me squirm.

“Easton, please.”

“Mmm, I like the way you beg.” His deep voice rumbled against my ear, and I swore I felt the vibration all the way down to my throbbing core.

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