Sinfully Mine/ A Jordan Knight Fanfic (Mature Contén 18+)

02

"Highland scotch," I say as naturally as I can with my head spinning and my heart pounding fast. I've ordered scotch before but never under the gaze of a man like this. My skin tingles as I catch his brown eyes, seeing a flash of interest now at my order.

Damn, those are great eyes. The kind that wouldn't break a stare for a moment, not even if he was naked, that chiseled body bearing down on mine, my legs wrapped tight around his waist, my mouth exploring the dip of his collarbone—

The bartender arrives, jerking me back to reality. He places a glass in front of me, and I realize that while I was having dirty sex with the target in my head, he went ahead and ordered for me.

"Glenmorangie," he says. His eyes are crinkling at the corners as if he's amused. Then he raises his glass slightly, and I do the same, trying to hide my shaking hand. I forget to smell the scotch first, because who cares, I just need the whiskey in me, so I take a sip.

It coats my tongue with silken fire, both dry and sweet as it slides down my throat. We set our glasses down at the same time, and I notice the sharpness of his suit, how well tailored it is. The cuff sits perfectly on his wrist, the peek of a silver cufflink making me squirm on my seat. His persona speaks precision and control, while he wears an aura of raw sexuality like a second skin.

If he snapped his fingers and told me to drop to my knees, I'd probably do it without an ounce of forethought.

"Thank you," I manage before hastily taking another sip and willing it to boost my flirting IQ by a few hundred points. Even though I need to lead him on, I need to be mindful of my response to him so I don't get in over my head. His gaze falls to my necklace. It's one of Emily's designs, distinctive gold wire twisting around my collarbone and falling in a delicate chain to a single pearl drop that sits between my breasts. My skin tingles and I think he might reach out and touch me.

He doesn't.

"My pleasure...." He pauses, waiting for my name. I think fast because I have no idea if I'm supposed to give him my real identity or not.

"Grace."

He shakes my hand. He has long, firm fingers, but I feel a callous or two, which completely contradicts his suit. One screams wealth and power, but the slide of his roughed palm says otherwise.

"And you are?" I ask, remembering a flirty smile.

His eyes narrow and he pauses, almost as if he's waiting for me to say something... acknowledge him maybe. I realize that he looks a little familiar, but I can't place him. The amount of well-dressed, sexy and powerful men I run into on a daily basis amounts to zero, so I'm sure I'd recall if we'd met before.

"Jay." He cocks an eyebrow and his hand is slow to fall away. Mine too, and when I do let go, my fingers feel cool and empty. He doesn't look like an Jay, and I'm sure he's fudging his name the same as me.

Keeping my smile friendly, I ponder just how to go about this flirting thing. Clearly, Jay doesn't share my problem. He fixes me with a smile.

"Meeting someone tonight?"

I give him the cover story Callie coached me with. Men don't want an easy target, so it's best to seem like meeting is an accident.

"Actually, my friend and I were going to meet for drinks, but she can't make it now." I try to look disappointed.

"I like that you came anyway." He tilts his head and I have the impression he's sizing me up. "I think people forget how to do things alone."

"Me too," I agree, leaning toward him despite my still-very-present nerves. "My friends would never go to a movie or dinner alone, but I like it. It gives me a chance to relax on my own, let my thoughts wander. Stop worrying about my game face."