Page 10 of Craving the Bad Boy

Why am I nervous right now? It’s not like we haven’t seen each other naked…and then some. But telling myself that doesn’t help. The intensity in his gaze is fierce and makes it impossible for me to look away. I can’t evenpretendto be unaffected by his presence. He looks at me like I’m the only woman in the world, sending a shiver of heat through me that starts at my toes.

He walks over, each step landing like he’s moving in slow motion, his boots thudding heavily against the old, worn-out floor. I swear I canfeelhim, yet he’s not even touching me. The space around us seems to shrink as he closes in on me and leans up against the bar.

“Whiskey. Neat,” he says, his voice gravelly and rough, like he’s been saving up his voice all day just for me.

I nod quickly, embarrassing myself as my breath catches in my throat. I feel the heat from his body again, radiating toward me, almost suffocating me like he’s a massive furnace drawing all the air from the room.

My hand is trembling as I grab the bottle and pour him a glass.

Why am I so nervous?

“Thanks,” he says simply as I slide it across the bar to him, his eyes fixed on mine. Strong. Unwavering.

I try to calm down, willing myself to breathe normally. But it’s not working. It’s nearly impossible when he’s right up on me like this, bringing back too many memories of last night…of this morning.

“Busy tonight?” he asks, his tone low, almost like he’s teasing and already knows the answer. The glint in his eye causes a funny feeling to rise between my legs.

“I’ve got some glasses to scrub,” I reply, unable to fully maintain eye contact. “Other than that? No.”

Saxon’s lips twist into a devilish smile. “Good. Because tonight, I’m not letting you out of my sight.”

His words send a thrill through me like I’ve been struck by a bolt of electricity. His tone is so strong, dominant and possessive, claiming me with nothing but a word and a look.

He may be smirking, but I can tell he’s serious, and he has my pulse racing. Despite the tingling between my legs and the warmth in my chest, a tiny voice in the back of my mind won’t stop telling me that I should be scared.

This man is dangerous.

And he comes with baggage.

“To be honest,” he says, “I wasn’t sure I should come here today.”

His words hit me like a bat to the stomach. I’m offended and can’t stop myself from blurting out, “What? Why? Because of Roxy?”

Saxon shakes his head and sighs. I can’t tell if it’s because he’s annoyed with me or because I just exposed him. “No, baby girl. Not because of Roxy.”

“Why then?”

“Because of who I am, Tammy.” His eyes home in on me like lasers. I can practically feel the pressure around us rising. My heart beats steadily and heavily in my ears like a drum. “I’m an outlaw. A Heartless Bastard. I lead a biker gang and live my lifeby my own rules. And to be honest, I worry about bringing an innocent little girl like you into that life.”

I feel like I’m being crushed by his words. I force myself to look away, checking on the progress Rick’s made through his beer, hoping he’ll need me to get him a new one soon. Despite how badly I wish I could, I just can’t handle Saxon’s intensity.

“Am I boring you?” he asks, leaning in, forcing me to look at him. I can feel his breath against my skin, smell the scent of his leather jacket.

“I’m just trying to do my job,” I reply, doing my best to sound casual, like I’m not being quickly overpowered by the intensity of the moment.

“I know what you’re doing, baby girl,” he replies, his voice firm and oozing with confidence. “You’re trying to hide from me.”

My pulse heavy, I swing my eyes back to his and face him, almost defiantly. I have to prove to him I can handle him. Prove it to myself.

“I’m not hiding,” I manage to say through pursed lips. Of course my voice quivers right at the end, betraying my nerves.

Why does he have to be so fricking gorgeous?

He’s just an absolute flawless blend of masculine beauty and raw male strength. The waves of his dark hair hang just right, framing his faultless face and model-esque cheekbones. If he wasn’t busy being a tough guy on a motorcycle, he could be in Milan strutting his stuff on the catwalk.

He slowly takes my hand in his, and just like before, that same spark shoots through my body, nearly causing me to gasp out loud. Somehow, I manage to keep it together.

“Don’t worry about Roxy.” His tone becomes suddenly very serious. “I may be a lot of things, but I’m not a liar. Not like other guys you may have known.”

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