Chapter 4
Chapter four
Lena
What have I done?
That thought replayed on a loop in my mind for hours. Ironside was miles and miles out of my league. And the way he kissed me…God, my toes had curled and every inch of my body had been alive with desire…
“You’re shaking like a leaf,” Pepper said, slightly garbled around a mouthful of hair pins.
I had practically begged her to help me get ready for my date tonight.
She curled my hair, pinning it back from my face in loose, romantic ringlets.
Standing behind me in my bathroom, she studied me in the mirror.
I could have done my hair on my own, but I really needed her here for moral support, so I didn’t chicken out.
I liked Ironside. I really, really liked him.
And that worried me. Actually, that scared the hell out of me.
Pepper set aside the curling iron and wrapped her arms around my shoulders, kissing the top of my head.
“You have nothing to be nervous about, Lena,” she said. “From what you’ve told me, it sounds like he already adores you.”
I nodded and tried to muster up a smile, but it just looked like a grimace. I swallowed around the lump in my throat and glanced down at my hands.
What if that wasn’t enough? Despite the obvious attraction between us, my struggles with penetrative sex might kill the mood and drive him away in the end.
“Here’s the plan,” Pepper said. “If this guy dumps you, then you and I will buy a house together and eat gelato for breakfast every day until we become fat little old ladies. When we get bored and we need a little drama to spice things up, we’ll call the fire department.
We’ll make up some excuse that isn’t true—like our cat got stuck in the tree, even though we don’t have a cat—and we’ll ogle the hot firefighters when they rush to our aid. ”
I laughed.
“That sounds like a pretty good deal actually.”
She hummed with amusement and turned me around to face her.
“It’s just a backup plan. You have to go on this date with your biker first.”
I sighed with a nod. Pepper took me by the shoulders and held me at arm’s length, looking me over.
“I think you’re ready,” she declared.
“I don’t feel ready.”
“Just think about him naked. Flexing muscles, tattoo ink, and finding the source of that big dick energy he’s carrying around,” Pepper added with a wink.
My cheeks warmed.
“Oh God, Pepper, that’s not helping.”
She cackled and gave me a playful shove toward the door.
“Go get ‘em, tiger.”
When I arrived at the Old Spruce Pub ten minutes early, Ironside was already near the front door. Those butterflies in my stomach now exploded into a whirlwind, fluttering against my ribs, all the way up my throat.
Don’t be sick, don’t be sick, I pleaded, clutching my steering wheel.
Taking a steadying breath, I forced myself to leave the safety of my car and took one wobbly step after another toward Ironside. When I was halfway there, he glanced up and spotted me.
His brilliant blue eyes brightened and instantly he was striding toward me—determined, confident, and unwavering in his eagerness to reach my side. He cupped my waist and leaned in close, kissing my cheek.
I closed my eyes for a blissful moment, soaking up the nearness of his body heat. An instant sense of security and safety washed over me whenever I was in his presence.
The lingering scent of leather clung to his clothes, even though he wasn’t wearing that black leather jacket I’d seen him in before with the patches.
There was a hint of musky, masculine cologne, too, and it smelled so goddamn good that all I wanted to do was bury my face in his neck and breathe deep.
“You look fucking gorgeous, petal,” Ironside said.
A thrill of pleasure shivered up my spine at his praise. I fought the blush rising up my neck and tried to laugh it off.
“Oh, so you’re blind. Good to know.”
Ironside arched an eyebrow and cupped my chin, angling my head up and slightly to the side like he was admiring an exquisite sculptural masterpiece and he wanted to examine every angle.
“I might not have the same eyesight that I did when I was a younger man, but I’m not blind yet. And I’m not the type of man who shells out empty words. I say what I mean and I don’t sugarcoat that shit.”
I fumbled with my clutch purse, too overwhelmed to respond. Would I ever get used to the ease and smoothness of Ironside’s compliments? His words were like the richest, most decadent chocolate, melting on the heat of my tongue, sliding down my throat in silky sweet bliss.
He hooked an arm around my waist.
“I already got a table for us,” he said. “And I ordered a few appetizers as well, so you can eat right away.”
“Charming, confident, and a man who likes to take charge,” I replied. “Impressive.”
I hit the jackpot with this one, I thought. And I really hope I don’t screw it up.
We made our way into the pub. Dark wood paneling created a rustic, down-to-earth atmosphere.
Ironside led me to a booth tucked into the corner, illuminated with low golden lamp light.
An array of small plates filled with food were waiting for us.
Some of them were so fresh that they still wafted with hot steam.
And at the center of the table was a large vase filled with a dozen roses, one in every color—purple, red, pink, orange, white, yellow, pink, and a few shades in between. I smiled to myself as I dipped my head, inhaling their fragrance.
“I feel like I should scold you for buying flowers from another florist who isn’t me,” I said. “But you’re spoiling me so well already, I’ll let you get away with it. Just this once.”
Ironside rumbled a low, soft laugh. Goosebumps slithered down my spine at that wonderful sound and the way his eyes crinkled with amusement.
After we took our seats and settled in, I reached for a mozzarella stick, biting into the gooey cheese. Then I noticed that Ironside was watching me.
“Are you…not going to eat?” I asked.
“You’re trembling,” he said.
Mortified, I dropped the food and stuffed my hands in my lap.
“No, no, petal,” Ironside crooned. “Don’t do that. Don’t hide from me.”
He rose from his booth and slid in next to me until the length of his thigh was pressed to mine.
Prying one of my hands out of my lap, he kissed my fingertips, circling his thumb in my palm with that soothing rhythm again.
He leaned in, ghosting his breath over my neck. I barely managed to stifle a whimper.
“There’s no need to be nervous, sweetheart.”
“It’s just first date jitters,” I replied.
Ironside gave a thoughtful hum. He moved his thumb from my palm to my inner wrist, circling around and around.
“What can I do to put you at ease?” he murmured. “A glass of wine? Conversation?”
Kiss me again. Kiss me until I can’t breathe and every nerve in my body lights up like a Christmas tree. Kiss me like you did before.
“Wine, yes,” I said instead. “Wine would be good.”
“Any special requests?” he prompted. “Red? White? Rosé?”
“Whatever takes the edge off. I’m not picky.”
Ironside flagged down a waiter and ordered a bottle of red wine. All the while, he kept a firm grip on my hand and he never ceased those soothing circles on my inner wrist.
“Are you trying to hypnotize me?” I asked.
He chuckled.
“Is it working?”
“It’s very relaxing," I admitted.
Ironside regarded me with a gleam in his eye that made a tight knot of need coil in my lower belly.
I wasn’t used to this. First dates were usually so painfully stiff and awkward.
With Ironside, I felt…almost clingy. And needy, touch-starved. Most of all, I felt safe enough with him to feel that way and he wouldn’t bolt for the door.
“I’m curious what else you might enjoy,” Ironside mused.
He lifted my hand to his mouth and pressed a slow, lingering kiss to my knuckles.Maintaining unwavering eye contact the whole time.
That need in my lower belly turned into an aching throb. I fidgeted in my seat, biting my lower lip.
“I—I like that, too,” I stammered.
Ironside brushed a lock of hair off my shoulder and cupped his palm to the back of my neck. His thumb settled at my fluttering pulse. My heart hammered wildly against my chest as I leaned into his touch.
“What about this?” he whispered.
Lowering his head, he skimmed his lips along the curve of my neck. He pinched my jawline between his teeth with a burn that made me gasp. I inched closer to him, gripping the front of his button-down shirt.
“Yes,” I panted. “Even better.”
I felt him smile against my skin. Then he threaded his hand up into my hair, angling my head to the side to press a hot, wet, open-mouthed kiss to my neck.
My eyes slid closed. A moan rose in my throat as I melted straight into his arms.
Then approaching footsteps signaled the waiter’s return with the wine.
Ironside and I broke apart, but he kept a firm, comforting grip on my hand. I was still trembling, but not because of first date jitters anymore.
After the waiter left, I took a sip of my wine and Ironside pressed his face into the crook of my neck again.
“Now, where were we?” he murmured in a husky voice.
He trailed his fingers along the waistband of my skirt, sneaking his thumb under the hem of my blouse. I arched into his touch, sweeping his knuckles in a slow caress back and forth just beneath my rib cage.
God, he was exquisite in every way. His voice, his presence, his touch, the way he kissed me.
I was usually the type to ease into things, preferring to take it slow. But being with Ironside was exhilarating, and I wanted to plunge in headfirst, basking in the attraction, the connection, the mind-altering, soul-searing, all-consuming chemistry that I’d been searching for my whole life.
This is exactly what I’d always wanted.
“What’s the problem, petal?” Ironside said, pulling back just far enough to look at me.
I blinked at him, pulled out of my thoughts and drawn into the present moment again. He searched my face with a glimmer of concern in his eyes.
I shook my head and placed my hand on his chest, following the line of buttons on his shirt with my finger.