Chapter 6
Jackson
Zara is givingme not so subtle fuck-me glances, and I know that I need her in my bed within the next thirty minutes. She has me harder than a nine iron. She’s sexy and funny, and that’s a deadly combination.
This woman has legitimately made me smile and laugh several times. The fact that she only wants one night with me intrigues me and turns me on even more. I am surprised that she doesn’t want to take me back to her place. Most women love to have you in their space, showing you how domesticated they are and how cute they decorate. It’s like they think one night of hot sex and a cute home will make the sex become a real relationship.
“Let’s go.” My voice is hoarse as I lead her to the side of the road to hail a taxi. I’ll have to text Ethan once we’re in the back of a cab and let him know my participation in karaoke night is not going to happen.
“So, where are we going?” she asks breathlessly. “To your place?”
I pause for a few seconds, debating whether or not to take her back to my penthouse. I don’t want her to get any ideas, even if she is driving me crazy.
“No.” I shake my head. “A hotel.”
“You’re not from the city?” she asks in surprise. “You were with Ethan Rosser, though, right? How do you know him?”
I frown as I take in her words. She knows Ethan? How on earth does she know him? I feel cold inside. Is this woman a better actress than I thought?
“You’re friends with Ethan?” I ask her, trying not to go into interrogation mode. I speak calmly and slowly, pretending her answer doesn’t mean anything to me.
“I wouldn’t say I know him, but I’ve seen him in the paper,” she says too quickly for my liking, like she’s been practicing how to answer this question if it came up. “It’s not like I wanted to be the one to take him off of the market.” She pauses and makes a face. “Or any man, for that matter. I have more important things to focus on in life than trying to bag a man.”
I want to ask her what she’s focusing on, but I don’t. It’s not like I care about her dreams and goals. She’s just another pretty, okay, I admit to myself, beautiful woman in a bar. A distraction from my father’s incessant calls and the duty that I know awaits me as a Pruitt.
I hold my hand out and flag down a taxi before I can talk myself out of it. A yellow cab screeches to a halt next to us, and I open the back door and nod for her to get in. I watch Zara slide into the back and then get in beside her. She looks a little nervous, though there’s a confident tilt to her chin as she looks at me.
“Where to?” the driver snaps, and for a brief moment, I want to take her to my home. I want her in my bed, looking up at me with her big, wide eyes and crazy curls.
“The Plaza,” I say a moment later and then pull her onto my lap. “We’ve got some fancy hotel sheets to get dirty.”