“Just leave it. We’ll discuss it tomorrow.” Jett’s tone is forceful and it’s clear to me that he’s ready for whatever fight Van wants to bring.

Van shakes his head and snaps, “Yeah, we fucking will, and don’t think that just because you’ve always gotten your way, you’ll get it this time. I’m sick of this shit.”

They glare at each other for a moment until Van stalks out of the VIP section. I watch him until I can’t see him in the crowd anymore and then turn back to Jett. “What was that about?”

“Nothing. That was Van being an asshole. He’ll get over it,” he mutters.

I’ve no idea what any of that means, and I don’t really want to get involved, so I leave it and wave at Hunter and West to say goodbye. West jerks his chin and grins at me as the girl he’s with grabs his attention back, and Hunter mouths his goodbye. It’s been a great night and I’m sure it’s just about to get even better.

I follow Jett out of the club and we wait on the footpath for his driver to bring the car around. We’ve got one of his security guys with us but there’s hardly anyone around so he’s not really needed.

“Do you mind if I check my phone, babe? I’ve got some messages to answer,” he says, surprising the hell out of me.

Smiling at him, I say, “Your parents really did raise you well, didn’t they?”

His brows knit together in confusion. “Why do you say that?”

He has no idea, and I love that even more. “I have never had someone I’m dating ask me if I minded if they went on their phone.”

A grin flits across his face. “You’ve scored well with me, baby,” he says, full of cheek, but it’s the wink he gives me that sets the butterflies off in my tummy again.

I playfully smack him. “Yeah, yeah, don’t get tickets on yourself.” I shoo him away. “Go and check your messages, Mr. Rockstar.”

He laughs and does as I say, and a moment later, he’s engrossed in his messages. In turn, I’m engrossed in watching him, so much so that I don’t realise when a group of guys exit the club and wait near us for a taxi. Their drunken banter jolts me back into the present and I turn to smile at them. It seems like they’ve had a great night from the laughter and joking taking place.

“You had a good night?” one of them asks me, his friendly smile lighting up his face.

“Yeah, I’ve had a great night. It’s my birthday so we’ve hit a few clubs celebrating.”

“Happy birthday. How old?” I ask, enjoying the conversation while Jett’s still busy on his phone.

“Wow, I would have thought you were older.”

He grins at me and before he can say anything else, one of his drunken friends interrupts quite loudly. “Don’t let his age fool you, darlin’, he’s got enough experience and knows how to fuck. All you gotta do is say the word.”

Strong hands suddenly grasp my arms and move me backwards. Jett’s angry face flashes past me as he steps forward. “What the fuck did you just say?” he fumes at the guy who just spoke, his body tensed.

“I said that my friend here knows how to - ”

Jett cuts him off. “I fucking know what you said, dickhead. What I’m actually wondering is why the fuck you would say that.”

Shit, he’s wound tight, and as far as I’m concerned, the guy doesn’t deserve his attention. “Jett, he’s drunk. He doesn’t even know what he’s saying.” I try to pull him away but he doesn’t budge an inch.

The guy holds his hands up in a defensive gesture. “I didn’t mean anything, man. I was just having some fun.”

“Yeah, well I don’t appreciate you having fun with my woman. Be careful who you say that shit to in the future,” Jett continues his tirade and I realise where this is coming from.

Well, fuck. If there’s one thing I hate in a partner, it’s jealousy. Jett has always seemed so level headed and secure to me that I didn’t think we’d have a problem with this. Hopefully, it’s a once off because I’m not sure I’ll cope well if it isn’t.

The guy backs off and steers his group away from Jett, and I breathe a sigh of relief.

Jett watches them go and then turns to me. “Are you okay?”

He seems genuinely concerned that I’m okay and I wonder if I’ve misunderstood. Perhaps it wasn’t jealousy at all. I give him a smile and nod my head. “Yeah, I’m okay.”

A long, hard breath escapes his lips. “Good. I can’t fucking stand assholes like that who think they can say that kind of shit to women.” He wraps his arms around me and presses a kiss to my forehead.

Thank God. He’s not jealous; he’s just concerned.

“Best. Sex. Ever.” Presley declares as I collapse onto the bed next to her.

“I try my best, sweetheart,” I say as I roll onto my side, prop myself up on my elbow and place my hand on her stomach. I don’t tell her it’s also the best sex I’ve ever had. She already knows how whipped I am; she doesn’t need further reinforcement. Hell, at this point, she could rip my heart apart with how open I’ve been about my feelings.

Her gaze travels down my body and I enjoy the fuck out of her eyes on me. It’s almost as good as her hands on me. I trace my fingers over her stomach while she’s busy taking in my body. Her skin feels so damn good. I could happily stay like this all day – her eyes on me, my hands on her.