Bad Rep (Bad Rep, #1)(65)

“Okay.  Yeah.  Let's go get something to eat.” I said, trying to put some enthusiasm into my words, even though I really felt like jumping out the window and making a run for it.  I got out of bed and went to my dresser, pulling out a pair of jean shorts and a t-shirt.

I could feel Jordan's eyes watching me as I got dressed.  It was such an intimate feeling, having him in my space like that.  But I had to admit, I liked it.  A lot.   Jordan got up and put his clothes on and I had a difficult time keeping my eyes off of that magnificent body.  He really was beautiful.  Cut and toned in all the right places without being overly muscular.  I hated super muscly guys...but Jordan was downright perfect.

I was putting a pair of hooped earrings on when I felt Jordan's hand on my lower back.  I watched him in the mirror as he dipped his head and placed a soft kiss to where my shoulder joined with my neck.  I tried not to shiver, but I failed miserably.  He grinned at my reflection.  “Ready, baby?”  I nodded, my voice having left me.

I grabbed my book bag and purse and followed him out of the apartment.  “Do you mind if we swing by my house so I can change my clothes?  I've run out of clean stuff at Garrett's and really need to pick up a few things,” he said, leading me to his truck.

“Why aren't you staying at your house?” I asked.

Jordan's lips thinned.  “Just needed some space,” he answered.  I guess I could understand that.

“That's fine, we can swing by,” I told him, though it was anything but fine.  I didn't particularly want to head to the house he shared with his Pi Sig brothers.  But I had agreed to give this thing with him a shot.  So I suppose I had to face everyone at some point.

I had just hoped it wouldn't be so soon.

I got into the passenger side of Jordan's truck as he slid into the driver's seat.  “Not ridin' the hog?” I asked.  I loved his motorcycle and had many a fantasy of being wrapped around him on the back of his bike.

Jordan chuckled.  “Not today.  But you can be my biker babe whenever you want.  I'd like to see you in some sexy black leather,” he said, cupping the side of my neck, his fingers squeezing lightly.  I couldn't stop my grin.  When he turned on the truck, the radio blasted Motorhead.  That will wake you up in the morning.

“This music will melt your brain!” I yelled over Lenny's screaming vocals.

Jordan held his hand around his ear.  “Huh, can't hear you, brain melting here.”  I chuckled as I watched Jordan sing Ace of Spades along with the music.  He had a really nice voice.  Rich and smoky.  It made me think of sex and his fingers and the way his eyes looked right before he put his mouth between my legs.  Oh crap, I was going to have an orgasm just listening to him sing.

The volume of the music left little room for conversation on the way to Jordan's house.  Which was fine with me, because I was trying to calm down my raging hormones.  And stop the very real freak out about going into Pi Sig territory as his girlfriend for the first time.  Jordan reached over and squeezed my upper thigh, his fingers pressing into my skin.  He didn't move his hand; instead he kept it there for the entire ride.

Pulling up to his house, I wondered if I could get away with just staying in the truck.  “You coming?” Jordan asked, getting out of the vehicle.  I sighed and climbed out.  He took my hand as we entered the front door.  Several of his brothers were in the living room and every single one of them looked up as we came in.  The looks they gave us ranged from surprise, confusion, to outright leering.

“Hey, man.  Where've you been hiding?” One of the guys asked as we headed toward the stairs.  Jordan slung his arm around my shoulders.

“Ah, you know.  Here and there,” he answered vaguely.  The guy, I think his name was Derek, looked between Jordan and me.  His lip curled a bit when he took in the possessive way Jordan held me.  I tensed and tried to move away, but I was held firm.

“You know Maysie Ardin, right?” Jordan asked, a little confrontationally.  Derek's eyes flicked to me but then looked away.

“Yeah, sure.  Maysie,” he said.  But I could hear the chill in his voice.  It made me feel like absolute shit.  Jordan didn't miss the way his “brother” greeted me.  His jaw hardened and he pushed passed the other guy and led us to the stairs.

“Asshole,” Jordan muttered under his breath as he dropped his arm from around my shoulder and took a hold of my hand. I squeezed his fingers but didn't respond.  What could I say?  This was not a good beginning to our first venture into public as a couple.  I had a feeling this was going to be a long day.

Jordan and I went into his room and I sat down on the bed while he found some clothes to change into.  “Like what you see?” he asked huskily as he took off his shirt, catching the way my eyes clung to his every movement.  He was so damn mouthwatering, and hell if he didn't know it.  For the first time I was able to see the tattoo on his back that spread up toward his neck.  It was a black Celtic sun in the middle of his shoulder blades.  The flames leaping up to wrap around his neck and arms.  It was amazing.  And hot.  And I wanted to trace it with my tongue.