Page 4 of Bartered Innocence

She nods to the men I had been gawking at. “They look like notorious flirts. They’re the ones who are super fucking attractive and know it, which tells me they’ll be more picky about who they bring home.”

“I was just watching,” I say with a shrug. “I’m not interested like that.”

When I look back, my breath catches when the brightest blue eyes peruse me. He has to be the most attractive one out of the bunch. The bar lights illuminate his tattoos against his pale skin; his short-trimmed beard cuts sharp along his strong jawline. His lips quirk in the corner of his mouth, and he raises his shot to me in salute.

Raising my own drink, I smile behind the glass as his head tilts back and his throat bobs with a swallow of his alcohol. The flick of his tongue along the rim sends a flash of heat to my belly and I shift on my feet, clenching my thighs from the unexpected response. They are definitely flirts, but I don’t mind the attention to boost my confidence.

A scoff behind me has the hairs on my neck standing. “As if she has a chance. She’s wearing jeans.”

My nose scrunches at the comment. How does that make any sense?

Jeans can be hot, especially the ones that hug your hips and ass.

I lock eyes with Sonia and she smirks. The mischief in her eyes is taunting me as if to sayyou gonna let them speak about you like that.

And since I grew up with a big brother, I sure as hell am not.

Setting my drink down, I fix my shirt and leave the table. I may be a virgin, but I know how to flirt, somewhat. Okay, not really. I feel like I’m decent enough. I mean how hard can it be to get a man into your pants?

Afterall, I’d seen the men at my family’s restaurant leering at me since I was fourteen, and I understood the suggestive look in their eyes.

Walking through the crowd, I keep my attention on my target, who’s watching me work my way to him. He says something to the man on his right and within a few seconds, the crowd parts and beckons me closer. The women who have been lingering sneer at my approach but remain silent as I lean against the bar next to the enigma of a man who caught my attention across the entire bar. His broad shoulders stretch the black t-shirt, and his tattoos are more prominent close up, a mixture of celtic knots and other symbols covering almost every inch of pale skin.

His vibrant blue eyes leave me a little breathless, but I mutter out a small hey.

I want to tuck my tail and run already. Now that I’m here, he’s frightening. His presence screams power, something I’ve only ever experienced around Luca or his father. It sets off alarms in my head. I feel like a mouse led into a trap, and I’m panicking with no clear view of the exit.

He smirks, aware of his effect on me. “I didn’t think you would come.”

I frown. I wasn’t expecting blunt honesty, and I’m slightly offended. “Why?”

He studies my face before his gaze roams down my body and back up to me. “Some aren’t up to the challenge.”

“What challenge?”

“The one to keep my attention.”

My eyebrow raises, repulsed by his arrogance. “Perhaps I no longer want it.”

He grabs my elbow before I can turn away, and the cocky smirk has fallen off his face. His eyes study me and his thumb strokes my skin in soft circles. “And perhaps I’ve misjudged you.”

“How so?” I ask, curious where he’s going with this.

Then his lips curl in a more sensual way than before and it sends flutters to my stomach. “I thought you were interested in my status, not me.”

My nose crinkles and I frown, that prickling alarm from earlier coming back. “Should I know who you are?” Surely, Sonia would have mentioned something if he’s someone important. This is a bar in Jersey City, but she’s around made men more than I am.

“I guess not,” he teases, and his low chuckle washes over me. He picks up a shot glass and hands it over to me before grabbing another one. “Rian.”

“Belle,” I say back, clinking the glass against his. It’s not the most clever of nicknames, but it’s enough to feign ignorance if asked, considering Ricky rarely calls me that anymore.

I try to keep down a grimace as we both swallow the bitter liquor, but I know I’m not successful by his amused stare.

He’s trouble, probably more than I can handle, but I’m ensnared. Trapped in his presence and unwilling to leave.

“This isn’t typically your scene, is it?”

My face scrunches wryly. “Is it that obvious?”

---