Page 82 of Jake's Angel

“I won’t. You know I won’t have more than two beers. I never do. I can’t promise anything when it comes to Sadie. You might want to stick a prospect on her for the night.” She laughs. I agree it’s not a bad idea. “And Avery doesn’t drink.”

“Of course, she doesn’t. Only I saw her drinking here the other night with all of you,” I argue.

“Actually, I don’t usually drink. But I especially don’t drink in crowds around people I don’t know. I like to have my sensesabout me,” Avery snaps from somewhere behind me. I turn around slowly to face her and tell her how a little alcohol could help her anxiety about meeting people, but the words are stuck in my throat as my eyes take in the sight of her standing there.

Holy shit!

I’m going to jail for beating some punk ass teenager when he tries to touch my girl.

Not yours.

I call bullshit.

I try to muster the words to correct her assumptions, but that little dark green dress she’s wearing has me fucking tongue tied. It’s a short little dress, but still respectable enough not to show off too much, cutting off just above her knee. It sits off her shoulder, showing off her creamy white skin against the dark green, with a little dip in the middle showing off just a hint of cleavage, slimming at her waist, accentuating the curve of her hips and flowing over her ass.

And now I’m hard as fucking steel.

Fuck.

Her long, toned legs look fucking amazing all the way to the curve of her ass. It’s obvious she’s a dancer just by the tone and strength in her legs. I noticed them before in her shorts and again in that lavender dress. But this dress accentuateseverythingin a whole different way.

Those legs would look amazing wrapped around my waist as I thrust into her repeatedly.I’m so screwed.

Her blondish-brown hair is rolled back off her face, pinned up in the front, flowing with soft curls down her back. She looks like one of those old school Bette Page posters Pop used to have in the garage.

I continue my perusal of her outfit and can’t help but smile when I notice the green converse she’s wearing.

Classic Angel.

“Are you done?” Sadie spouts off. “Damn Jake, you need a napkin to wipe your mouth, or are we good to go now? I’d like to get a drink or two before Jinx is so slammed, she can’t keep up with us.” Sadie’s wearing the shortest dress of them all. Her little black dress hugs her curves, with a low neckline showing off her cleavage. She’s not wearing a bra and the low-cut open back guarantees she’s wearing the tiniest scrap of panties, if any at all.

“Fucking hell Sadie. Are you trying to start shit tonight?” I growl at her. She doesn’t bat an eye, just shrugs her shoulder and gives me that evil smirk of hers. The one that says she’s looking to do more than start shit, she’s looking to finish it too.

“I don’t think any of the guys will have an issue with my outfit, do you Jayde?” She smiles over her shoulder and Jayde laughs with a loud, “Only Daddy.”

Yeah, that’s exactly what I’m worried about.

I shoot off a text to the prospect.

Me: Austin you’ll have your eyes on Sadie all night tonight. Keep her ass out of trouble. Got me?

Austin: Got you.

The girls sit at the bar in the kitchen with mason jars full of sweet tea, sharing a plate of Liz’s homemade lemon treats. Hearing Avery groaning over Liz’s baking while she wraps her mouth around it is one of the sexiest fucking sounds I’ve ever heard.

With every bite of her sugary treat, another groan escapes her lips, and it has my dick twitching in my jeans. Standing back out of the way is my safest option to watch and observe their interactions. I’m not trying to explain to Caleb why I’m adjusting my hard on around his granddaughters.

“Oh, my goodness, these are so good!” Avery gasps.

She sounds so innocent.

“I’m glad you like the tarts. You’ll get a lot of those around here,” Liz quips coming into the room. Jayde laughs, but Avery seems to have missed the joke.

“Oh, yeah, all the sweet butts and hang-arounds …” Jayde stops mid-sentence when she notices Caleb standing in the doorway listening intently before walking through the kitchen to pour himself a glass of sweet tea. It doesn’t stop Liz from finishing it, though. Caleb gives me a chin lift and I return the gesture.

“Oh, for shit’s sake, Papa! She’s going to learn it sometime. I might as well give the poor girl a heads up before she walks out there tonight and gets a taste of all the different clingers in action. She needs to know who is who, and how their role is defined.”

“Damn it, Mama,” he says through laughter. “You women are going to scare Bug out of wanting to be around the club with all your horror stories.”