Page 3 of Craving the Bad Boy

I pull my bike up in front of my apartment and kill the engine, but I don’t get up immediately. I just sit there, my mind still wrapped up in vile and corrupted thoughts of all the things I want to do to her.

Maybe it’s the way she looked at me with those big, bright, innocent eyes that held my gaze like a challenge. Of course I’m used to women wanting to be with me, but there’s something about Tammy that’s different. It’s like she’s fighting against her own desires for some reason. And all that does is make me want her more. Make me want tomake herwant me.

I scoff and shake my head, trying to clear my mind of the spider’s web of twisted thoughts. I have other things to focus on right now–like the operations of my biker gang, The Heartless Bastards. But Tammy has imbedded herself in me like a splinter, poking and prodding every time I try to focus on anything else. I’ve never had a woman distract me like thisever,and it’s starting to piss me off.

I stomp into the house and toss my keys onto the counter, my old boots scraping across the worn hardwood floor. My place may be small, but it’s mine. Cold concrete walls with no decoration beyond one family photo hanging by the door from when I was a child, put there to remind me of how our family was before things fell apart. Before Dad went to prison and Mom lost herself in despair and overdosed. Before I dropped out of school, stole my first bike, and joined my first gang.

My place may be sparse, but it suits me and the life I’ve chosen. But something feels off tonight. Like the silence is louder. The air somehow stifling.

I grab a bottle of whiskey and pour a glass, hoping the burn going down will take my mind off of Tammy. Annoyingly, it has the complete opposite effect, amplifying the heat already straining my chest, forcing the image of her gorgeous looks straight to the front of my mind.

Christ, I just don’t get it.

I never get caught up with women in this way.

I’ve got a reputation to protect. I don’t fall in love.Ever. But when I saw Tammy at the bar, standing there with such gorgeous innocence, it was like something deep inside me suddenly gave way. A primal need surfaced–a need to have her. To break through the challenging barrier she’s put up, claim her as mine and make her feel something she’s definitely not ready for.

And for once, I actually want to keep this one…

I take a long, burning sip of my drink and gaze into the amber liquid. What is it about her? Sure, she’s young and ferociously sexy, with curves that look like they were designed to fit perfectly against my body and my body alone–but I can’t help but feel like she’s way too innocent for an outlaw like me. It wouldn’t shock me one bit if she told me she was a virgin. And that vulnerability just makes me want to protect her from everything.

Protect her and ruin her at the same time…

The image of her perfection swells in my thoughts. Her lips parted ever so slightly as she spoke, her bright, gorgeous eyes, the way her ample breasts rose and fell with each breath, so perky and full, even when hidden beneath her baggy T-shirt. Her beauty feels somehow dangerous, like I’m standing on a precipice about to plunge into a complete loss of control.

My cell vibrates angrily on the counter, violently shaking me from my daydreaming. I glance over and see it’s a message from Roxy, the last of my girls who’s convinced herself she’s was an actual ex-girlfriend. I already feel the anger rising in me. She’s been texting non-stop since I stopped seeing her, acting like I owe her something. Like we were more than just a casual thing.

I don’t owe her jack. And I sure as hell don’t feel like wasting more of my time reminding her of that. I ignore the message, then swipe it into the trash. I am not in the mood to deal with her right now.

I grab the whiskey bottle again and top off my glass, then take another fiery drink. No matter what I do, my thoughts circle back to Tammy. That splinter in my mind that I can’t seem to get at. And I’m starting to get seriously pissed that she’s having this kind of effect on me.

I’ve always gotten what I want by one means or another. Women fall at my feet like I’m a movie star, but Tammy’s reaction was different. It was like she was afraid. Maybe unimpressed. Maybe that’s why I find her so fucking irresistible.

When I wakeup the next morning, the first thing on my mind is Tammy.

It’s sick. She’s taken over my thoughts like a virus. Her young, soft, enticing curves and her shy, beautiful eyes are all I can see. The way she looked away when she first caught me staring at her–those images burn through my mind like a wildfire. I hate to admit it, but Ineedto see her again. I need to be close to her. See if that connection I felt to her last night is actually real or just some kind of trick on my mind.

I grab my leather jacket, head out the door, and hop on my bike. There are a thousand other things I should be doing today with the gang, but I just can’t seem to shake these thoughts of Tammy. The splinter in my spine, placed there by her. The gravitational pull back to the bar. Toher.

The short ride to Jayne’s feels absurdly long. Like every minute that goes by is a wasted minute I could be spending close to her. When I pull into lot outside the bar, I see her through the window, standing behind the counter. Maybe I’m just imagining things, but she looks like she’s waiting for me.

She doesn’t notice me when I first step inside, but I’m not bothered. I just lean up against the wall and watch her as she bends over the counter, wiping it with a rag as she talks to a customer. I’m almost jealous of her giving another male her attention, but it’s just an old man well past his prime. There’s no way she’s interested in him.

She’s wearing a pair of skin-tight black jeans and a faded black T-shirt that looks like it came from my closet. Her breasts bounce as she makes circles with her arm, causing a rush of blood to my cock. I’m getting hard fast. My heartrate is jacked. I can feel that magnetic pull again, like an invisible chain linked to each of us, pulling me closer and closer…

When Tammy finally looks up and catches my eye, I can feel time slow down. This time, she doesn’t look away. She holdsmy gaze without hesitation. Her lips part ever so slightly, and I swear I can see her pulse beating heavy through the creamy white skin of her neck. That desperate thirst is rising between us again. The same thirst I felt when I saw her last night.

I start to walk over to her, and the low hum of the bar fades into the background as I grow closer. She stands there, her innocent eyes locked on me, as if she’s waiting for me to act.

When I reach the counter, I don’t say anything. I don’t need to. I just lean in close and inhale, filling my lungs with her pheromones that instantly get me high like a predator that’s caught scent of its prey. I watch her body for any reaction. Her hand trembles slightly as she reaches for a glass.

She’s nervous.

Good.

She’s feeling what I’m feeling, which makes this so fucking fun.

I lean closer, my voice coming out sharp like the sharp edge of a blade. “Tammy, right?” I ask, low and sexy, the tone that drives women wild.

---