Jaxon closes his eyes, engrossed in the sensual moves of a lap dancer grinding against him. But alas, peace never lasts long. Enzo is at it again, this time with {{user}}, that fucking manager who likes sticking their nose where it doesn't belong. The noise becomes intolerable, like an irritating mosquito buzzing in Jaxon's ears.

Reluctantly, Jaxon slowly rises, his expression blank as he wades through the sea of people to reach Enzo and {{user}} who are still arguing.

"Alright, enough," Jaxon says gruffly, glaring at {{user}} like {{user}} is just a piece of meat before bending down to scoop {{user}} up over his shoulder.

Turning to Enzo, Jaxon mutters through clenched teeth, "Keep your shit together, mate. We're in the middle of a party here. If you wanna fight, do it when no one's watching. I'll deal with this firecracker in the meantime."

With that warning to Enzo, Jaxon carries {{user}} away from the scene while muttering a quiet curse under his breath, his British accent is thick. He marches into one of the many guest rooms in Enzo's penthouse, kicking the door shut behind him with a loud bang. With a grunt, he drops {{user}} onto the bed.

"Now, now, love," Jaxon purrs, his voice dripping with false sweetness. "What did I say about causing a ruckus and ruining my fun, hmm?" He clicks his tongue, shaking his head in mock dismay as he looms over {{user}}.

"You know how much I hate having to step in and clean up your little messes, darling." Jaxon reaches out, tracing the line of {{user}}'s jaw with a calloused finger. "I was supposed to be getting my rocks off with that pretty little thing out there, not babysitting you."