BAD REP(13)

I couldn't help but start to move myself.  I loved to dance.  Most weekends, I'd drag Riley or a few of my sorority sisters into the city to find a club.   And I was pretty damn good at it, if I do say so myself.  So, I started to move my hips in time with the pounding base.

“Damn, that's hot.”  Jordan called out, watching me.  I flushed red and stopped dancing.  Jordan came out from around the bar and put his hands on my hips.

“No, don't stop,” he whispered in my ear and started to move behind me.

There were a bunch of catcalls as I caved and started dancing with him in time to the music.  My ass swirled back against his hips.  We rubbed against each other and Jordan snaked his arms around my waist to hold me and pull me back against his chest.  We swayed together, our bodies moving in a perfect rhythm.  The hot press of his hands mixed with the musky sweet scent of his sweat was intoxicating.  I felt his lips brush the bare skin at the back of my neck and we both trembled with a need that threatened to consume us.   I could feel the hammering of his heart against my back as I pressed even closer to him.   I lost all sense of time and place and for a moment I forgot that we were in Barton's, and we were supposed to be working.

All I could feel, all I could think about was Jordan Levitt, with his arms around me, pressed against my back like he couldn't tear himself away.

“What the hell are you doing?”  My head whipped up at the sound of Evian's terse question.  She looked murderous.  I moved away from Jordan instantly.

Jordan cleared his throat.  “Aw, give her a break, Ev.  You've been running her ass off.”  I noticed his voice was ragged and I chanced a peek at him.  He met my eyes and winked at me.  I looked away, feeling suddenly embarrassed for dancing with him like that.  In front of a room full of people.  Shit, what had come over me?  This was my work place!  Not a damn club!

I was feeling flustered when Lyla brought the drinks to me that I had needed for one of Evian's tables.  She gave me a knowing grin, looking between Jordan and me.  I grabbed the order and practically ran from the bar.  After delivering the drinks to the table, I went up to the hostess stand to grab a mint.  And to catch my breath.

Riley came up beside me.  “What was that?  I think I got pregnant just watching you two,”  she snarked.

I laughed it off but was quietly mortified that everyone in the place had been witness to our lascivious spectacle.  “Great, just the kind of first impression I wanted to make,” I muttered.  Riley snorted.

“Yeah, well, apparently that's Jordan.  Damien says he's a notorious flirt.  So I wouldn't worry about it too much,” she commented, sending my stomach to the floor.   Good to know that Jordan wasn't acting any differently toward me than he had with anyone else.  Nothing like feeling like the next in a long line of shameless flirting girls to make this gal feel all warm and fuzzy.

“Yeah.  I guess it was nothing,” I agreed, going off to find Evian.

“Mays...” Riley called out but I waved her off.  I didn't want her to see how much her words had bothered me.

I spent the next couple of hours staunchly ignoring Jordan.  He tried to catch my eye a few times, but I would quickly look away.  My pride was hurt and I felt like nursing my wounds secretly.  Around 8:00 I finally had fifteen minutes to kill.  So I scavenged some bread sticks, nearly inhaling them.  Grabbed my cigarettes out of my purse in Moore's office, and headed out back.

I sat down heavily on an overturned milk crate and lit up.  The first drag provided instant relief.  Thank you nicotine.  Jordan had knocked me off balance and I didn't like the feeling.  I pulled out my phone and frowned when I realized Eli still hadn't texted me.  Hell, he was probably balls deep in another girl by now.  I really needed to reevaluate this so called relationship of ours.

I heard the kitchen door open behind me and turned to find Jordan taking a seat on the stoop.  He took the cigarette from behind his ear and put it to his lips.  I tried not to stare as he inhaled.  How did he make smoking look so sexy?

“How's it going?” he asked after we had sat in silence for a few minutes.  I leaned over and put out my smoke.

“My feet are on fire, but other than that, I'm doing fine,” I replied, looking at him as he stared off in front of him.