Call me Sir Book 1: Lev
Автор
Shala Mungroo
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Jordan only wanted one wild night in Vegas—a little sparkle, a little heat, no strings attached. But when she slips into her journalism class the next morning, guess who’s standing at the front of the room? The very man she left tangled in hotel sheets. He’s commanding, off-limits, and every inch of temptation wrapped in a professor’s smile. Rules say keep it professional. Desire says break every single one. Between whispered challenges and a growing pull that’s impossible to ignore, Jordan faces a choice: protect her heart, or surrender to the kind of trouble that promises both danger and delight.
Chapter 1
JORDAN
“Your boobs are going to pop out of that top, Jordan,” Gina said.
I flashed my best friend a sassy smile at her comment and adjusted my sequin tube top over my voluptuous chest. I had to admit, sometimes my C-cup boobs on my petite frame made it look like I might topple over at any second, but I’d gotten used to it by now.
It was my best friend Regina’s (Gina for short) twentieth birthday, and Gina and I, along with two of our best girlfriends and roommates, were staying at the popular Cosmopolitan Hotel on the Las Vegas Strip for a weekend of nonstop partying before school started the next week.
We were all in our sophomore year of college and well aware that this year would require us to buckle down more than we had in our first year.
Gina and I were currently getting ready to hit the clubs in the room we shared. Clothes were strewn everywhere as we rushed to get dressed.
“I’ll keep an eye on the girls and make sure they stay in place,” I replied cheekily, sitting down so I could buckle my strappy heels. My long, almost waist-length chocolate-brown hair hung like a curtain around my shoulders as I bent down.
“I’m so excited for this weekend,” Gina said, her golden curls bouncing as she shimmied leather shorts up her long legs. “When school starts, we’re going to be too busy to do anything fun.”
I made a face at her.
“Don’t remind me,” I said, turning to the mirror to touch up my makeup. I applied a nude lipstick to my already pouty lips and flicked another coat of mascara over my large hazel eyes.
There was a knock on the door, followed by a shout.
“Let’s go, bitches!”
Gina rolled her eyes at me. I just grabbed my purse—which carried my fake ID—and went to open the door.
“Let’s go make some bad decisions,” I said, giving her a wink. Together we went out to meet Camille and Penny.
***
Getting into the club was the hard part since we were all underage, but it just so happened that Camille’s brother’s best friend knew the bouncer and made a call for us.
He let us in, no problem.
Once we were inside, there were guys practically begging to buy us drinks, so I didn’t even have to use my fake ID—which, I had to admit, I was nervous about, having never used it before.
“Don’t leave your drink unattended,” Penny told the group, ever the responsible mother figure of us all. She was dressed in skinny jeans and a simple black halter top. Her strawberry-blonde hair shone like fire every time the lights flashed over it.
Camille took a sip from the drink that was delivered to our table from a group of suits sitting at the bar and raised it to them in salute.
She looked like a Victoria’s Secret model and always got the most attention in the group, so we weren’t surprised.
“You have a boyfriend,” Penny said in that disapproving tone.
“Who’s not here,” Camille returned. “Besides, it’s just a drink, Penny. I’m not having sex with them.”
“You shouldn’t be taking drinks from those guys anyway,” Penny continued, used to her advice being ignored.
“Well, you can stay here and guard our drinks if it makes you feel any better,” Camille said to her. “I’m going to dance. Come on, Jordan, Gina.” She tugged each of our hands, pulling us onto the dance floor so that soon we were all grinding to Cardi B’s voice on the dance floor.
An hour later, I could feel eyes on me, almost like a branding. I’d been dancing with Gina, too caught up in the music and with the alcohol pumping through my veins to worry too much about it.
Suddenly feeling a bit claustrophobic at the press of bodies against me, I tapped Gina’s shoulder and pointed to the bar. “I’m gonna get a water. You want?” I asked.
Gina shook her head at me.
I pushed through the throng of people, barely missing groping hands, to make my way to the bar.
“One water, please,” I told the waiter when I found an empty space to squeeze through.
While I waited, I turned around and found myself staring into clear blue eyes. I froze like a deer in headlights. My thoughts jumbled, and then I blinked.
Damn, he was probably the most gorgeous specimen of the male species I’d ever seen, and he was staring at me in the same way.
His hair was very blond and fell around his face like a frame for that chiseled jaw and high cheekbones. He looked Nordic, like a Viking from the cover of those romance novels Penny was always reading.
His lips tilted up, as if he found my inspection of him amusing.
“Hi,” he said, his voice little more than a rumble over the boom of the music, but I heard him anyway. That was how attuned I was to him.
He had been sitting next to me on a stool at the bar. He swiveled to face me when I appeared. I noticed that he seemed to be trying to keep his eyes on my face and not my chest—and failing miserably.
Someone knocked into me from behind, pushing me into him.
He caught me by my waist, our lips inches apart.
“I’m so sorry.” I finally found my voice, which came out breathy.
He smelled like spicy cologne and mint, and I couldn’t help taking another deep inhale of his scent.
“Don’t be,” he said softly, his breath fanning my cheeks like a caress, making them burn with awareness.
“Here’s your water,” the waiter said, returning with a bottle and startling me.
I straightened quickly. I hadn’t noticed that I’d given this stranger an intimate view of my cleavage when I bent over, but I did notice that his hands lingered on my waist before letting me go completely.
“Um…thanks.” I exchanged the water for cash, feeling flustered when usually I was all confidence.
I turned to go, but a large hand wrapped around my wrist, stopping me. I turned to look back at him, my heart speeding up.
I frowned at the effect this golden-haired god seemed to be having on me. I was the one who dazzled men, not the other way around.
But what confused me the most was my response to this stranger.
“Don’t go.” He bent over to touch his lips to my ear so he could be heard over the pulsating music.
I sucked in a breath at the contact. If I turned my head an inch, our lips would meet.
“I’m here with my friends,” I managed to say when he made no move to step away.
“Have a coffee with me.” His voice was nothing less than a demand. I immediately stiffened, and he must have felt it with his hand still on my arm. “We’re just going to the coffee bar in the lobby. You can tell your friends,” he added, his voice softening as if soothing a wild animal that was about to escape.
I turned to meet his eyes.
Could I really just turn away from this? Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was just the scent of him combined with the sound of his voice that lowered my inhibitions and had me nodding my head.
“I’ll send them a text so they know.” We had a group chat, which made things easier.
Satisfaction gleamed in his eyes for a second before he hid his expression and stood. He threw some bills on the bar as he did so.
Standing, he was over six feet tall, and I felt like a dwarf in comparison, even though I was five foot seven inches.
“I’m Lev,” he said as he took my hand in his.
Oddly, I didn’t feel like I was about to be kidnapped. I felt safe with him.
“Jordan,” I returned, and let myself be whisked away.
