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My jaw dropped at Jordan’s warning. We were in the middle of one of the most elite events in the city, and he had literally just told this guy that he was going to kick his butt if he didn’t back off. Because of me. His fake date for the night.
Chandler held his hands up in a gesture of surrender and muttered, “Whatever you say. No woman is worth that much of a bother.”
“Wrong again.”
Jordan turned back around and pulled me close, acting as though nothing had just happened. But it wasn’t so easy for me to shrug the confrontation off. “I get that you wanted to stop your mom from bugging you about being single, but don’t you think you’re laying it on a bit thick with the whole jealousy act?”
7
Jordan
Shocked, I stared at Wrenley long enough for the people around us to realize we’d stopped moving and were in the way of the other dancers.
“Laying what on thick?”
Wrenley glanced around her, noticing that we were drawing attention to ourselves, and her cheeks turned crimson. She leaned forward and whispered fervently, “You, um, you said you needed a fake date, and that was why you asked me.”
Pressing my lips together to keep from growling, I grabbed her hand and began to drag her out of the ballroom, but she tripped on her gown. Too impatient to slow down, I whipped around, scooped her into my arms, and stalked to the exit.
I didn’t put her down until I’d reached the front desk of the hotel. “I need a room,” I grunted. The clerk was a middle-aged man whose pompous expression and demeanor told me that he let the fact that he worked at The Pierre give him a swollen ego. He looked taken aback by my demand, but then he recovered, and I could see that he was about to blurt out some shit that would piss me off.
Reluctantly releasing Wrenley’s hand, I glanced at the man’s name tag as I fished my wallet out of my jacket. “Daren,” I said in a low, threatening tone. I pulled out my driver’s license, then my Centurion AMEX—yeah, the black one—and slid them both across the counter. “Before you speak, I suggest you take a look at these.”
The man glanced at the counter dismissively, then his eyes rapidly darted back to the items in front of him. Immediately, he softened, and his disposition became friendlier. He put a finger on the credit card and pulled it toward him. “Let me have a look, Mr. St—” His eyes practically bulged out of his skull when he spied the name on my license.
There were tons of places in this city where I was recognized for being a Nighthawk. But there were a handful—especially in certain circles—where it was my last name that had people bending over backward to help me out.
The Pierre was definitely the latter.
I rarely threw my name or profession around to get special treatment, but I would have done just about anything to have a private room at that moment. Clearly, Wrenley and I needed to have a very frank conversation before I finally got her naked and underneath me.
“I’m so sorry, Mr. S-St-Stallard,” the man stammered. “I didn’t—um—I’ll just—yes—we absolutely have a room for you.”
Wrenley made a muffled sound, drawing my attention. Her lips were mashed together, and her jaw was clenched, but her eyes were dancing with humor. She was trying to hold back her laughter, but the slight shake of her shoulders gave her away.
I couldn’t help smiling as I drew her into my side so she could bury her face in my jacket.
“Here you are, sir,” the clerk said, suddenly jaunty, making me want to roll my eyes. So I did.
Snatching the key card from his hand, I gave him one last glare before marching to the elevator with Wrenley still tucked against me. Once we were inside, I told the white-gloved attendant the number for our floor, then stood there, practically shaking with anticipation.
Luckily, we arrived at our stop seconds later because I was near my breaking point.
Keeping a tight hold on my girl, I quickly steered us to our room and opened the door. Then I did what I’d been dying to do all fucking night.
Gently, I pushed her up against the nearest wall and brought my mouth down on hers, barely noticing the slam of the door as it swung shut.
My hands dove into her hair, and I used my thumbs to put pressure on her jaw to open her mouth. Then I swept my tongue inside, and my knees nearly buckled when I tasted her. Honeysuckle and something unique and womanly that was all her own. With my palms cradling Wrenley’s skull, I tilted her head to an angle that allowed me to take the kiss even deeper.
