The Naughty List Bundle - Kylie Adams [240]
So why was he so aroused?
He hadn’t had such a staggering reaction to a female since his teens when puberty had made him more interested in sex than just about anything else. But he’d grown up since then. He was a mature, responsible man now.
He was…
The music died away to utter silence. The hush in the room was rich and hungry.
She wasn’t beautiful, Jordan insisted to himself, attempting to argue away his racing heartbeat, his clenched muscles and his swelling sex. In fact, she was barely pretty. But she was as sexy as the original temptation, her appeal basic and erotic.
Over the silence, Jordan detected the sound of her heavy breathing with the force of a thunderclap. A roar of approval started the massive applause, and within seconds the room rocked with the sounds of masculine appreciation and entreaties for more. Jordan continued to watch her, not smiling, not about to encourage her. He waited for her to meet his gaze again, but she didn’t. She looked straight ahead, deliberately ignoring him.
Anger simmered inside him, warring with lust.
Slowly, still struggling for breath, she took a bow. He hadn’t noticed until that moment that she wore high heels. Amazing, he thought, remembering how she’d moved, the gracefulness of her every step. Her legs looked especially long in the spiked heels.
She tottered slightly as if in exhaustion, appearing young and vulnerable for the space of a heartbeat. Money was thrown onstage, some of it hitting the open urn positioned at the edge, most of it landing around her feet. She didn’t bend to pick it up or acknowledge the money in any way. She merely stood there, as proud and imperious as a queen while the men payed homage, begging her for more, emptying their pockets.
If Jordan hadn’t been watching her so closely, he wouldn’t have seen her hands curl into fists, or the way her soft mouth tightened. With one last nod of her head, she turned to leave the stage. That’s when the trouble started.
Two men reached for her, one catching her wrist, the other stroking her knee and thigh.
A wave of rage hit Jordan with such force, it nearly took him to his knees.
He couldn’t dispute his own reaction, and started toward her. At almost the same time, the bouncer pushed himself away from the back wall, but Jordan barely noticed him. He kept his gaze on the woman’s face as she tried to pull her hand free, but the drunken men had other plans. One of them attempted to press money into her hand while he suggested several lecherous possibilities, egged on by his buddy.
Others seconded the drunks’ suggestions, throwing more money, making catcalls and urging her to another dance…and more.
She firmly refused, and again tried to step away. Her gaze sought out the bouncer, but he’d been detained by a table full of younger men who were insisting the woman should continue.
Jordan reached the edge of the stage just as she said, “Go on home to your wife, Larry. The show’s over.”
Her deep throaty voice was filled with loathing and exhaustion. It affected Jordan almost as strongly as the sight of the drunk’s rough hand wrapped around her slender wrist. He barely restrained himself from attacking the man, and that alone was an aberration. Jordan had never considered himself a violent or overly aggressive person.
“Let the lady go.”
Reacting to the command in Jordan’s tone, the man released her automatically, only to turn on Jordan with a growl.
“Who the hell are you?” As he asked it, Larry took a threatening step forward.
Jordan gave him a stark look of contempt. In as reasonable a voice as he could muster, considering his mood and the obstreperous noise of the bar, he said, “You’re drunk and I’m not. I’m bigger in every way. And right now, I’d like to tear you in two.” Jordan watched him, his gaze unwavering. “Does it really matter who I am?”
Larry reeked of alcohol, as if he’d been at the bar all day. Perhaps that accounted for his loss of good sense. But for whatever