mouth to do more than whisper dirty promises in my ear.
“You ready for me to take you home and fuck you again?” he asks gruffly, his voice so goddam sexy and inviting.
“You ask that like there’s an answer other than yes,” I say, moving off his lap where I’ve been sitting for the past couple of hours.
He stands and takes hold of my hand.
“Are you leaving?” Van interrupts us and we both turn our gaze to him.
“Yeah,” Jett answers.
Van pushes the girl off his lap and stands to walk over to us. “You’re gonna be there tomorrow morning, right?” His tone is almost angry and I wonder what is going on between the two of them.
Jett scowls. “Don’t fucking push this, Van. I told you where I stand on this album.”
“And what if the rest of us don’t stand with you?” His body is tense, like he’s ready to fight this out.
“Just leave it. We’ll discuss it tomorrow.” Jett’s tone is forceful and it’s clear to me that he’s ready for whatever fight Van wants to bring.
Van shakes his head and snaps, “Yeah, we fucking will, and don’t think that just because you’ve always gotten your way, you’ll get it this time. I’m sick of this shit.”
They glare at each other for a moment until Van stalks out of the VIP section. I watch him until I can’t see him in the crowd anymore and then turn back to Jett. “What was that about?”
“Nothing. That was Van being an asshole. He’ll get over it,” he mutters.
I’ve no idea what any of that means, and I don’t really want to get involved, so I leave it and wave at Hunter and West to say goodbye. West jerks his chin and grins at me as the girl he’s with grabs his attention back, and Hunter mouths his goodbye. It’s been a great night and I’m sure it’s just about to get even better.
I follow Jett out of the club and we wait on the footpath for his driver to bring the car around. We’ve got one of his security guys with us but there’s hardly anyone around so he’s not really needed.
“Do you mind if I check my phone, babe? I’ve got some messages to answer,” he says, surprising the hell out of me.
Smiling at him, I say, “Your parents really did raise you well, didn’t they?”
His brows knit together in confusion. “Why do you say that?”
He has no idea, and I love that even more. “I have never had someone I’m dating ask me if I minded if they went on their phone.”
A grin flits across his face. “You’ve scored well with me, baby,” he says, full of cheek, but it’s the wink he gives me that sets the butterflies off in my tummy again.
I playfully smack him. “Yeah, yeah, don’t get tickets on yourself.” I shoo him away. “Go and check your messages, Mr. Rockstar.”
He laughs and does as I say, and a moment later, he’s engrossed in his messages. In turn, I’m engrossed in watching him, so much so that I don’t realise when a group of guys exit the club and wait near us for a taxi. Their drunken banter jolts me back into the present and I turn to smile at them. It seems like they’ve had a great night from the laughter and joking taking place.
“You had a good night?” one of them asks me, his friendly smile lighting up his face.
Nodding, I answer, “Yes, and you?”
“Yeah, I’ve had a great night. It’s my birthday so we’ve hit a few clubs celebrating.”
“Happy birthday. How old?” I ask, enjoying the conversation while Jett’s still busy on his phone.
“Twenty-one.”
“Wow, I would have thought you were older.”
He grins at me and before he can say anything else, one of his drunken friends interrupts quite loudly. “Don’t let his age fool you, darlin’, he’s got enough experience and knows how to fuck. All you gotta do is say the word.”
Strong hands suddenly grasp my arms and move me backwards. Jett’s angry face flashes past me as he steps forward. “What the fuck did you just say?” he fumes at the guy who just spoke, his body tensed.
“I said that my friend here knows how to - ”
Jett cuts him off. “I fucking know what you said, dickhead. What I’m actually wondering is why the fuck you would say that.”
Shit, he’s wound tight, and as far as I’m concerned, the guy doesn’t deserve his attention. “Jett, he’s drunk. He doesn’t even