And now she knew that under a rough exterior could beat the heart of a protector.
Mama had never learned that. She’d always believed in the outside appearance of a man. Always hoped it would match the inside.
A frown marred his forehead as he took her in. He walked over to her before she could reach him, nodding to the server as he placed a hand on the small of her back.
“What’s wrong, brown eyes?”
Shoot. So much for hiding her real feelings.
Forcing herself to smile, she looked up at him. “Nothing. I just…long day. You look really good.”
She blushed as he chuckled. “Good, huh? Damn I was going for sexy. Would have taken hot.” He leaned in and whispered as she slid into the booth. He’d directed her to the same side he’d been sitting in. “Or fuckable.”
Her breath hitched. “Ink!”
A chuckle rumbled from him as he sl
id in beside her. He was different tonight. More relaxed. At ease.
“This place is cute.”
“You sound like you expected something else.”
She shrugged, not wanting to tell him what she’d thought.
“Why, Betsy, were you expecting me to take you to some rough, dark biker bar? On our first date?”
“I wasn’t sure what to expect. You constantly surprise me.”
He placed his arm over the back of the booth, turning that muscular body towards her. She was caught in the corner. The wall on one side, him on the other. Maybe she should have felt threatened. Trapped.
Instead, it felt like he was standing between her and everyone else. Cocooning her in a wall of safety.
And what a wall it was. All muscles and tats and sexiness. Seeing him in a shirt was doing something to her. Don’t get her wrong, having all that skin on display at the club couldn’t be bettered. But there was something about knowing what was under that shirt that made her fingers itch.
“You’re gonna have to stop looking at me like that, brown eyes,” he murmured, leaning in so close she got a hint of his scent. It was clean. Refreshing. Like the ocean. If you didn’t know him better, he might look like a surfer with his tan, the hair and that cheeky grin.
But if you took in the full picture, you’d see your mistake.
“Like what?” she asked.
Everyone else drifted into the background. There was just her and Ink.
Daringly, she reached forward and placed her hand on his chest, running a finger over a tatt that she could see above the top button.
He closed his eyes and let out a small sigh. She snatched her hand back, worried she’d gone too far. Maybe she wasn’t supposed to touch.
His eyes snapped open and he grabbed her hand, placing it back on his chest. Her breath hitched.
“Why’d you move your hand?” he demanded.
“I thought maybe…is it okay to touch you without…without permission.”
“Brown eyes, even in the fucking club I’m not much of a stickler for protocol. I tried to show you best practice for when you played with other Doms. But since you aren’t allowed to play with other Doms, that’s no issue.”
His words circled in her brain. “I’m not allowed to play with other Doms?”
Not that she wanted to. But it was such a possessive statement that it shocked her.