Rock My World/ A Jordan Knight FanFic✔️

07

Nora

At eight o'clock the next evening, I found an illegally-parked black Ferrari in front of my apartment building.

Jordan Knight leaned against a tree wearing sinfully fitted jeans, a loose, scoop neck T-shirt, a blazer and shades, presumably watching me try to navigate the front steps in my high heels and not slip on my own drool. His mouth quirked in a sexy smile as I drew near. My heart did a strange little lurch when he said, "Hi."

"Um... hi. Where's your driver guy?" Were we going to this thing alone?

"Sometimes I like to drive myself, sweetheart." He slid his shades onto his head and nailed me with those dark eyes, his expression unreadable as he looked me over. He reached to open the car door for me. "Why? You got a thing for Jude?"

"Um... the big dude with the tree tattoo? No." Feeling the need to explain, I added, "Not really my type."

"What, dark and dangerous?"

Of course, dark and dangerous could just as easily describe Jordan, though he was a different kind of dangerous; the kind that fucked you silly and broke your heart in the process. His hired muscle, on the other hand, looked straight out of a scene from Sons of Anarchy.

"Nice dress," he added, before I could formulate a response. "Leather and lace," he mused, then stood back and held the door for me.

"Thank you." I turned and got my ass in the car, settling into the low seat as gracefully as I could. I tried not to give him an eyeful of my panties as that smoldering gaze flirted with the hem of my short red lace dress and drifted down my bare legs. Then he shut the door and I exhaled.

Time for my little pep talk. The one I'd prepared in my head since I'd agreed to this fake date, this bizarre little trial run to determine if there were going to be more fake dates. Six weeks' worth of them.

I reminded myself that I didn't have to be here. If Jordan Knight turned out to be a total dick, I really didn't need two hundred grand that bad. My integrity was not for sale, at any price. This was just one night. Then I could walk away. Tell my future grandchildren that I once went on a date with a rock star. Even they didn't need to know it was fake.

The sun was in Jordan's eyes when he got in the car but he didn't put his shades back on, probably so he could eye-fuck me every chance he got, like he was doing now. "You look hot in red."

"You don't have to say that."

The Ferrari roared to life and we pulled out into the street. "Can't a guy hit on his own girlfriend?" he asked, all filthy innocence.

"I'm not your girlfriend."

"You are tonight, sweetheart. What I'm paying you for, right?"

"Paying me?"

"That's the deal. Two hundred grand for the next six weeks."

"Yeah, if I come on tour." Ugh. Hearing him say it out loud, it felt all kinds of wrong. I still balked at what seemed an exorbitant price for my "services," but if he was willing to pay it, as Devi put it, I'd be crazy to turn it down. Still... "Let's just call tonight a freebie. Consider it a try-before-you-buy." The thought of him paying me for tonight's date made me feel like an escort, and I couldn't stomach it.

"Thought I already had one of those." He tossed me a heated look that brought back every steamy moment of our pseudo make out session at the video shoot.

"Yes, but this time I'll be vertical."

He laughed, an amazing, sexy laugh that set off tingles in some pretty intimate places. He definitely hadn't laughed like that at the video shoot. Tonight he seemed in a better mood. "If that's the way you want it."