Playboy Princes (Royals of Arbon Academy, #2)(37)

“I just want a chance,” he finished, his voice soft but threaded with hope and sincerity. “I’m not asking you for promises or commitments… just a chance. I really like you, Violet.”

My heart squeezed again, but this time it was accompanied by those flappy fucking butterflies that made me want to go all doe-eyed and flirty. Fucking hormones were going to be the death of me, I swear.

“I feel like such an asshole for saying this,” I said, leaning back on my hands so I could peer up at him. “I really like you too, Jordy.”

A relieved smile washed over his face, quickly replaced with a small, thoughtful frown. “But?”

I bit my lip. “But Alex shattered me. I don’t think I can put myself on the line like that again so soon, and I really, really don’t want to drag you into all his drama and bullshit.”

Jordan’s lips tightened, but he gave a small nod of acknowledgement. I loved that about him. He listened to me and didn’t immediately dismiss my opinions simply because they didn’t line up with his own.

“And?” he prompted.

I sighed. “And…” I dropped my face into my hands, scarcely believing I was admitting this aloud. “There’s… something between me and Rafe.” As soon as I said it, I panicked that I’d just totally fucked up my prospects with Jordan and hurried to backtrack. “It’s probably nothing, just, I don’t know. Curiosity. Or like when you get an itch in your heel and you can’t quite scratch it, so you just keep thinking about it, you know? Like that. I’m fairly certain we will be at each other’s throats again in about three days; I just don’t want to lie to you. And I don’t want to feel like I’m cheating on anyone if… you know… if anything happened.”

Jordan was silent, watching me, but there was no defeat on his face. “Let’s just keep going as we are and see how things eventuate. Rafe and I are aware of each other. There’re no secrets. And no commitments from anyone, right?”

It was like he was handing me my every dream in a single package, but I was a realist— there was no way this wasn’t going to explode in my face eventually.

Did I care though?

Staring into his sexy-as-fuck face, his arms braced behind him on his bed, drawing attention to the heavy muscles, it occurred to me I might be slightly shallow and selfish because in this second, I wanted to give it all a shot.

And if it blew up in my face, I’d handle it like I did with Alex. By beating the shit out of Rafe.

“What did you need to tell me?” I asked Jordan, standing up to aim for a casual lean on his dresser, trying to draw some normalcy back into this moment.

He stood, too, and moved toward me. And because I was turned on, not threatened, I didn’t step back. I let him press that fine-as-fuck body against mine, and I swallowed hard at the roar of lust slamming into me. “I told you,” he murmured, leaning down so his lips were scraping across my jawline. “We need to give this a shot. No promises. No commitments. Just… see how it goes.”

My pussy clenched at those drawled words and the obvious lust in his voice.

“I also have an idea about how to deal with Alex, but… I’ll tell you after.”

“After what?” I asked breathlessly.

He lifted his head back, a wicked smile across full lips, and I gasped as his mouth slammed into mine. For a moment, I stood frozen in shock. Not that I hadn't seen it coming—I wasn't fucking dense—but just... wow. That kiss we'd shared after the fight, after I'd been fucked six ways to Sunday by his best friend, had been overshadowed by everything else going on. And then the one in the hallway… that had really been about erasing Alex.

This though, this was just about me and Jordan.

"Is this... okay?" he asked, pulling back a fraction of an inch. "Did I totally misread the signals here?"

"No!" I blurted out, then cringed. "I mean, yes, totally okay and no, you didn't misread signals. Sorry, my brain was just taking a second to, um, go all girly and shit. Can we try that again?" My cheeks were hot with embarrassment, and a tiny wave of panic flooded through me that I'd totally killed the moment. But Jordan just grinned and cupped my neck with his hand, threading his fingertips into my hair.

"We can try that again as many times as you want, Violet," he murmured, his voice husky with desire. "You have no idea how badly I've been wanting to kiss you."

This time when his mouth met mine, I wasn't fucking around. I kissed him back with all the pent-up tension I'd been feeling for him since that night he’d first shown an interest. Longer. If I was being totally honest with myself, every interaction I'd had with the New American prince had been fanning my crush hotter since the day we'd met.

My hands were all over him, pushing and pulling, desperate to touch him freaking everywhere, and our clothes were just getting in the way. Obviously, they had to go.

"Violet," he moaned against my mouth when I started unbuttoning his shirt. He'd already ditched the tie and blazer somewhere—if he'd even worn them at all today—so it was just the crisp white shirt and navy blue trousers in the way of what I wanted.

I grinned into his kiss, nipping playfully at his tongue, then sucking on his lower lip until he groaned again. "Jordan," I replied, teasing. My voice was low and breathy, drenched in lust.