Why don’t we take a breather? I could use a drink anyway.”
Jordan smiled and slipped his hand into August’s then led him off the dance floor. They ordered a couple of drinks and headed over to a more secluded spot where a booth was being vacated. Jordan slid in one side and patted the faux leather beside him, inviting August to sit close by. When his friend followed his suggestion and took a seat so their thighs touched, Jordan gave a flirty wink and brought his apple martini to his lips. He took a sip and let his eyes roam over August’s dark hair, stubbled jaw line, and the dark eyeliner he’d used to make his eyes and lashes stand out.
August was an extremely sexy man. A braided leather strap wrapped around his neck had a stone pendant at the base of his throat, and it invited one to look at the strong column of his neck and fantasize about kissing and licking it. He’d done that on many occasions, and had planned to enjoy the hell out of doing it tonight. But somewhere in the last ten minutes, his desire to let his freak flag fly had fizzled out and he was sitting there thinking about Derek Pearson. What the hell?
“Hey,” August said, and waved a hand in front of his face. When Jordan blinked and refocused on him, his friend frowned and lowered his glass to the table. “You okay?”
“Yeah, I’m just—”
“Distracted. I know. You’re giving me a complex here, J.”
Jordan laughed at that. “Oh please . As if you could ever have a complex. One crook of your little finger and you could have any guy in here.”
August gave a wolfish grin and dipped his head in acknowledgment of the truth, and then he leaned in close and took Jordan’s drink from him, setting it on the table. “But I’m not here for just any guy. You already know that.”
When August traced a finger along his lower lip, Jordan reached out to take a hold of his wrist. This was exactly what he’d wanted tonight. A hot night with an even hotter bed partner, but instead of sucking on that finger and biting down on it, Jordan pulled it away.
Sidetracked by the image of teaching a certain student of his a lesson on respect from down on his knees, Jordan sighed dramatically and let his head fall back with his eyes closed as he cursed his flagging libido. Fuck.
“All right. What the hell is going on with you? You’re a hot mess. Or not so hot, I should say.”
Letting out a breath of air, Jordan brought his head back up to face his friend and rolled his eyes. “Thanks a lot.”
August gripped his chin and moved in to press a brisk kiss to his lips. “You know what I mean. You look phenomenal as always, but your mind…it isn’t in my pants, where I was hoping it would be. So where the fuck is it?”
Ugh, August was right. There Jordan was on a Friday night with the surest thing to an epic orgasm sitting next to him, and he was busy thinking about Derek goddamn Pearson.
“J?” August said again, pulling him from his thoughts.
“Yeah.” Jordan sighed.
“What’s wrong?”
He reached for the martini August had taken away from him and decided if he was going to actually admit he was sitting there thinking about a student to this playboy, he should do it while sucking back some alcohol. When he finished, he saw one of August’s dark eyebrows arch and quickly said, “I was just thinking about one of my students.”
When a salacious grin split August’s lips, Jordan brought a finger up and wagged it at him. “Oh no, it’s not like that.” Even though it kinda was.
“Like what?” August asked, feigning innocence.
Jordan couldn’t help the grin that tugged at his lips. “Whatever filthy thoughts you’re thinking over there.”
August let out a deep, rumbling laugh. “I’m not thinking those.”
“Bullshit.”
“What? I’m not.” August winked. “But I bet your students are about you.”
He laughed at his friend’s audacity. “You’re so bad. Not only is that frowned upon, that is not