Jase (MMA Bad Boys Book 3) (8 page)

I make myself a cheese sandwich and get comfortable on the sofa, ready for a round with Jax in Sons of Anarchy. Now that’s one man I would never kick out of bed for farting, that’s for sure.

The letterbox banging against the wood of the door rouses me from a nap I never intended to have. I check the time and swear under my breath before jumping up and opening. Isabella raises a brow at me, looks me up and down at my attire with a disapproving glare. “Chica, why the hell are you not dressed already?”

“I fell asleep on the sofa.” I shrug a shoulder in indifference and leave her to let herself in. “I’ll go dress. Set up the shit you need to and I won’t take long.”

I honestly won’t take long because I’ll do my make-up after my hair, it’s kind of like a ritual of good luck… it never works but I do it anyway.

Opening my wardrobe, I seek out the classy yet sexy, backless dress which is shoved right in the corner. I smell it to make sure it smells clean and check it for moth balls. I can’t even remember the last time I wore this or if I ever did. But there’s no back, it goes halfway down my thighs. There’s a diamond shape missing around my navel showing off my belly ring and my cleavage will be generous. There’s a small chain that goes over the left hip side of the dress that finishes at my lower back. It’s exquisite and the most expensive dress I own.

I undress quickly, kicking my clothes to the corner of the room and slip the dress over my head and tug it down. It hugs me like a second skin and I can’t decide whether I feel like a million dollars or a fat gremlin. Great thing about Isabella? She’s one hundred percent honest.

Sighing, I leave the confines of my bedroom and go back to the den where Isabella is bent over fiddling around with shit in her bag. She’s cursing in Spanish and it makes me snort.

“Something… Whoa…“ She stands straight and gapes at me, mouth open and all. “You look hot, chica! I don’t think you’ve ever looked so amazing!”

“You sure I don’t look like a fat heffa?” I glance down at myself, double checking that I have shaved my legs. Looking good. Hell, it feels like I’ve lost weight but that’s probably because this dress is hugging me tightly.

“No, you stupid cow, you don’t. Now sit in this chair so I can work wonders on that gorgeous hair of yours.” She pats my butt as she passes to grab the brush she left on the arm of the chair.

I sit carefully, not wanting to catch the chain on the back. “What style are you thinking?”

“Leave it with me, chica. I’ll make you look like a Hollywood superstar.” She smiles at me, her eyes twinkling before she rounds the chair and starts brushing through my hair. My lashes flutter closed, relaxed. There’s nothing better than someone playing with your hair. I let her do it whenever I feel the urge to stick my middle finger up at my new boss.

Fuck knows how much time passes, but she exclaims with a squeal, “All done!”

She presents her handy pocket mirror and I examine myself. I’m speechless. My hair is in a messy yet stylish up do with tendrils of curls framing my face. Little flowers are placed around the style and I think Isabella has truly outdone herself this time. “Wow.”

“Exactly. Now, go put your face on. Jase will be here in twenty minutes.” She starts packing all her shit into her travel case and I rush to the bathroom. Twenty minutes isn’t a very long time and I swear under my breath. Shit, I really don’t want to mess this up.

Foundation, concealer, blush, eyeliner, smoky eyeshadow to compliment the dress and mascara, all done and I feel pretty good about myself. I take a selfie and save it, loving this new look.

“Frankie? He’s here!” she shouts down the hallway. Damn, if he’s in the flat then I hope to God my bestie isn’t embarrassing the shit out of me. I know what she’s like.

Taking a deep breath, I leave the confines of my bathroom and walk down the hallway to find Jase stood in the centre of my living room, hands in his trouser pockets casually. The suit he’s wearing hugs him perfectly, the navy pinstriped tie brings out the colour in his eyes and the shirt a crisp pale blue. The jacket and trousers are black and he looks fucking delicious. I have to pick my jaw up off the floor because who knew Jase could clean up so well? From firefighter to MMA, to smart. It’s like he has different personalities.

“You look stunning, Frankie.” His eyes travel the length of me and the need to clench my thighs together has my legs quaking.

“Thank you. Not so bad yourself.” The corners of my mouth lift up in a smile as he looks down at himself.

“Glad to know that you think I’m stunning as opposed to handsome.” He winks at me before holding his hand out. “Shall we?”

I nod, and walk to him. The spark, the energy and the connection ignites as my palm slides into his and a gasp escapes my mouth before I have a chance to hold it back. The smirk on his face tells me he heard it, so I narrow my eyes in warning.

“Bye, guys! I’ll lock up after myself, chica.” She’s clapping her hands like a complete twat and I laugh whilst shaking my head from side to side. She’s eccentric and loud and I love her for it.

We walk down the one flight of stairs and the limo that sits outside has my jaw hitting the floor for the second time in one night. “Um…” Speechless, that’s what I am right now.

“I wanted this night to be amazing, special… yeah.” He stumbles over his words and he kicks at a stone on the pavement. “We’re going to Franchino’s after all, we may as well arrive in style, right?”

“I’ve never been in a limo before,” I whisper as I stare at the shiny black paint of the stretch limo as it idles on the road. I’m in awe, I’m gobsmacked and I feel so many emotions at once that I want to cry. I won’t, I’m not going to walk into the most sought after restaurants in the city looking like a hot mess.

“After you.” Jase opens the door for me and ushers me in with a wave of his hand. I climb in, as ladylike as possible considering the skin tight dress I’m wearing and scoot over to make room for him.

The inside is just as amazing. The chilled champagne and two glasses sat in a cooler attach to the side, the black cushiony carpet lines the whole of the vehicle in the back, and there’s a sound system dock station attached to the side as well. This is truly stunning. I never thought the inside would look as awesome as this. I always thought they’d be tacky on the inside. This is all glamour and way out of my comfort zone but it’s not like I’m ever going to go in one again.

“Champagne?” Jase asks, startling me. I stop swirling a finger on the cool leather seat and nod my head. When was the last time I had real champers? I don’t think I ever have to be honest.

“Thank you,” I say as he passes me a chute full to the brim of bubbly liquid. Taking a sip, I moan at the taste as the bubbles explode in my mouth. “This is good shit.”

He chuckles beside me at hearing me curse. I may be dressed like a lady but it doesn’t mean I’ll act like one when my mouth opens that’s for sure. “You can really swear like sailor; you know that right?”

“Of course I do. I know you don’t give a fuck so why should I? I’m keeping it real tonight, buddy.” I clink my glass against his with a cheeky smile on my face.

“Good, because there is nothing worse than a bitch that’s fake.” My heart drops. Bitch?

“Excuse me? Bitch?” My eyes are as wide as saucers and I can feel the sizzle of anger below the surface.

“Shit. No, princess, that’s not what I meant, I swear. Around the ring at fights they have ring bitches and it’s a habit that I let slip by accident. You are far from a bitch. I promise I don’t see you like that.” His words tumble out in one rushed breath and his crestfallen face makes me soften immediately.

“It’s okay.” I place my spare hand on his which is resting on his bobbing leg and it stills as he looks at our hands. “I can be a bitch and I embrace it.” I wink at him for good measure, pat his hand and slide my palm away.

“You make me laugh, I have to say.” He openly stares at me with a dimply grin on his face, very boyish yet charmingly handsome. “You always say what I least expect of you.”

“That’s me. Totally unpredictable and a barrel of laughs.” My smile is wide and genuine when I face him. Any woman in their right mind would feel giddy in his presence, me included. His natural olive, tanned, skin and gleaming white teeth, the multitude of tattoos that I know cover him and his sparkling eyes make my belly flutter with those butterflies’ people talk about and the apex of my thighs grows an uncontrollable ache where all my blood rushes south.

We travel the rest of the way, shoulder to shoulder, in comfortable silence. I have noticed that he’s moved his hand to my thigh, the heat beneath almost making me jump his bones and ride him like a pony. If we were travelling another couple of minutes, I probably would have.

He climbs from the limo first and holds out a hand to help me out. “Ah, Jase the gentleman, any other personalities to add?”

“What the fuck are you on about, princess?” he asks as I link my arm with his and we make our way to the brass handed, glass doors at the front of the restaurant. He opens the door and ushers me in with a hand of the back and before I can form a reply a Maître d’ lady at a podium, dressed in a three piece, logoed suit and bow tie asks us the name of the reservation.

Jase sorts through all that I take in the opulence of the room. This place screams wealth; there’s a grand piano on a platform in the corner with an older gentleman playing a relaxing version of Beethoven, the tables are round with white and gold linen draped over, a candle and a single red rose sits in the middle and three different sets of cutlery surround what seems to be fine china plates. The bar is lined against the wall with the kitchen, I imagine, through a set of double doors. The carpet is white with a hint of gold and many chandeliers hang from the mosaic type ceiling. This place is amazing, awe-inspiring even. The muted lighting from the chandeliers gives off the romantic feel.

The woman leads the way as Jase’s hand pushes me along with his hand just above my arse. We’re seated in the front corner by the window with the least amount of light and Jase pulls my chair out for me to sit down. I smile my thanks at him as he rounds the table and seats himself. The Maître d’ rattles off the specials which I couldn’t understand and handed us the black menus. She asks for our drink order where Jase stepped up again and ordered some champers.

Once she’s walked away, with an extra sway in her hips might I add, I raise my brow at him and he says, “What?”

“Let me guess, you’ve been here before, right?” I eye all the succulent meals on the menu and unconsciously lick my lips, my mouth salivating and my stomach grumbling.

“Of course I have. Everyone should experience this place at least once in their lives. I’ve only been here once before.” He trails off and I can see the pain of a memory he doesn’t want relive written across his face. My heart aches for him because just the little glimpse into his past has my pulse race faster.

“So, what’s good to eat here? I’m heading down the route of the Spaghetti Carbonara myself.” The taste of a carbonara to me is like a little slice of heaven on a plate. The meal will never get old. “And the Parma Ham, Gorgonzola, Sage and Pumpkin Risotto for a starter. That sounds delish.”

“I like a girl who knows how to eat.” He says this with so much conviction that his face lights up.

“Do the women you usually sleep with not eat or something?” I ask, generally interested.

“Not really. They’re so skinny that the bones of their body stick out. Which is why I never go back for seconds.” The Maître d’ comes back with a bottle of champagne and pours a little for Jase to taste. He swirls it before sniffing and then taking a small sip, smacking his lips for the full effect. I honestly can’t help the snort that escapes me and I cover my mouth with the back of my hand.

“Perfect, thanks.” He places the glass back on the table and the lady pours us both half a glass and leaves the bottle in an ice bucket sat on the side of the table.

“Are you ready to order?” She grabs her pen and notepad and eyes us waiting for answers, more Jase than myself which annoys me so I speak up first and recite my order while trying my best to look at her politely.

“Babe? What are you having?” I smile sweetly at him and I can see the corners of his mouth twitch in amusement. He rattles of what he wants and we pass back out menus without giving her another look. I hear her huff and have to try my best to hold in my laughter.

“Possessive much?” His left eyebrow raises as he leans back casually in his chair.

“If it’s clear a couple are on a date, then you shouldn’t eye up the woman’s man. Simple.” Giving him a smug look, I lift the chute of champers and take a long sip.

“True. Is that girl code or something?” He eyes me curiously and I make sure my tongue sweeps slowly along my bottom lip. His eyes shift down to catch the movement and he gulps.

“Nope. Just some simple common sense. Hell, I know some girls, and even guys, love to be homewreckers.” I scrunch my face up. Those are the types of people that I would love to smack in the face. From past experience, I know the heartache that revolves around that kind of situation.