Page 13 of Torched

“It’s a blind date?” His blonde eyebrows lift, a sudden challenge etched in his expression.

I hum, taking another sip of my drink as I slowly draw with my finger on the wooden surface. My head is slightly tilted as he rests his elbows on the bar top, moving his juvenile face closer to mine, and my smile widens even though I keep my lips pressed together.

He’s just a boy, but I still enjoy how easily he’s already eating from the palm of my hand.

I love the hold I have on most men. How I can lure them in with a small flutter of my lashes, an innocent glance, and a sweet smile. They assume they are the stronger species of humans, but really, they are the weakest. They are so quickly distracted by the female assets that they don’t even know they are being manipulated in any kind of way. Tell them what they want to hear, and you can get almost anything you want. I learned that when I was young and Junior would send me out to distract the shop owner in our little community so he could raid the store with as much as he could carry. I was seven. He was ten. We were the littlebribones, rascals, until we grew up and the town understood we were the children of the Reyes brother in every way, quickly following the path our fathers carved out for us. Junior was trained to eventually take over, and the older I got, the more I’ve been using my feminine skills to get whatever I wanted from any human with a dick hanging between his legs in order to keep the family business running smoothly.

“Are you nervous?” bartender boy questions.

“A little.”Not one fucking bit.Nerves are for the weak. The ones without a plan and a spine. “I mean, wouldn’t you be? What if he is a completependejo?”

“I hope he is.”

I throw him a fake shocked expression. “That’s not nice.”

“I don’t care.” He shrugs, straightening his back before he shoots me a wink. “Especially if that means I get to take you out after my shift.”

Smooth boy. Little does he know he wouldn’t stand a chance against me. Not in life, and certainly not between the sheets.

“I don’t think you have anything to worry about, though. I mean, look at you.” He waves his hand over the length of my body. “No guy in his right mind is going to stand up a girl that looks likethis.”

“What isthis, exactly?” I wonder, amused.

“Hot as sin.” He blurts out the words with a passion, covering his mouth with his fist. “An exotic beauty. You’re like a dream come true. Where are you from anyway?”

“I live here. But I’m originally from Spain.”

“Ay,guapa.” For some reason, he rocks his hips from left to right, a wide grin cut in his cheeks. I keep my smile in check, though inwardly, I’m rolling my eyes at the dumbass.

He doesn’t lack any confidence, I’ll give him that. But no matter how good he might know to use his adolescent dick, there is no chance in hell I’ll ever be riding it. I need a little more than that. You know, like an adult body.

“I bet that’s the only Spanish word you know, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, pretty much.” He smirks.

“How do you end up at St. Regis?” I’m curious because if he’s working here for female attention, he’ll probably come up empty-handed or he has a serious thing for cougars. This is not the place your typical twenty-one-year-old hangs out on a Friday night.

I can see him working as a promoter, charming the girls on the street to come to any club in the city. But instead, he’s working at one of the most prestigious hotels in New York.

“The pay is better than any other bar in the city and the tips aregrande.” He expands his arms until they can’t go any farther. “Hey, hear that! Another Spanish word.”

I blink for a brief moment, then recover my stance and smile sweetly, even though my bones are filled with annoyance at his lame joke. I swear half of the human population isstupidoand over the years, I’ve created a severe lack of patience for it.

“Ah, so you’re charming me for tips?” I ask, right before someone else demands his attention on the other side of the bar.

“Definitely, but I’d rather get that date,” he says, as if I agreed to any date in the first place. Another wink comes my way, and I fake a chuckle at his abrasiveness with little appreciation. I like people who are bold and aren’t afraid to go after what they want. Life isn’t going to hand you out anything. You need to take it and destroy anything that tries to come between. “What’s your name?”

“Cristina.”

He extends his hand and I grab it as I keep my gaze fixed on his charming smirk.

“Nice to meet you, Cristina. I’m Bart.”

I nurse my drink for at least another forty-five minutes, my gaze flicking between Bart and watching him work as I let time slide away until finally, I hear a loud, familiar voice thundering out a laugh behind me.

Right on time.

It’s not directly next to me, but loud enough for me to twist my body on the stool to see where it comes from. Running my tongue along my teeth with satisfaction, I try to keep my smile hidden as Liam Carrillo comes into my peripheral. I wait a few seconds until he’s aware of my presence, then I turn my head back to the bar, before I sigh dramatically when Bart points to my empty glass to keep up my shield of indifference.

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