Page 32 of Inferno

Even down to the silver rings over his fingers, the mean tats, and the all black outfit.

As he winks at me, I cross my legs as pressure builds down there.

What the hell is happening to me?

I’m captivated, but I attempt to tear my gaze from his. I can’t.

And when he scowls, I arch my brow.

“What’s your room number?” A soft voice asks.

That shakes me out of my spell.

I turn to the bartender and pick up my bright pink and orange drink.

“Three-oh-two.”

Taking a sip, I’m pleasantly surprised. It’s not too sweet, with a hell of a lot of booze.

“Is this seat taken?” A husky Italian voice distracts me from my drink.

As I look at him, he grins, pointing to the stool right next to me.

“Without sounding rude, I’d quite like to be on my own. The other stools are empty,” I tell him.

I point to the other ten available out of my personal space.

“You’re too pretty to be sitting at a bar all by yourself. Let me join you. Please.” He fake pouts and I hold up my hand to cut him off.

“No. I’m perfectly fine. Thank you.”

He taps his fingers on the red leather of the chair and doesn’t move.

His dark eyes glare at me. A shift from rejection.

“Can I at least buy you a drink?” he asks, this time smiling fully and revealing his gray teeth.

Ew.

“No, I’m good, thank you.” I hold up my glass.

Get the fucking hint.

As he steps around the stool, I stand, placing my drink on the bar.

“Do not take another step forward, sir.” I keep my tone harsh.

He tilts his head, running his gaze up my legs and pausing on my breasts.

Absolute creep.

“Let me buy you a drink.” This time, his tone is less welcoming, more aggressive.

“No.”

He takes another step and I suck in a breath, scanning the room to work out how many witnesses would see me beat his ass down. I’ll have to downplay my skill slightly.

I wait as he leans in. It’s then I hear my drink start to fizz, and I see him pull his hand back from the bar down to his side.

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