Page 15 of Torched

“I fucking hope so, because I’m not getting any younger.” I sigh. “I just want a man who wants to be my best friend, you know? Someone to cuddle at night, have some babies.”

“A white picket fence and a dog?” Bart reads my mind. Or at least the headspin I’m going for. There’s not a chance in hell I will ever have some kids running around. Or a dog.

They are disgusting. Both of them.

“Yeah, is that so much to ask?”

“You’ll find it, I’m sure,” Bart replies.

Liam shifts next to me, and I expect him to cut off the conversation, but his intense stare just keeps burning through my skin. I ignore it as if my life depends on it. It’s loaded, though. I imagine him holding back to keep his mouth shut, as I am to give him a glare to keep up my wall of disregard.

“You sure you don’t want to wait until my shift is done?” Bart gives it one last shot.

Sorry, kid.You’re not the one I’m here for.

I rummage in my purse for my wallet, then hand Bart a few bills. “Thank you, but I’m going to call it a night.”

“You sure?” Bart gives me a final hopeful glance and when I nod with my smile still in place, he pretends to take off his hat for me. “It was a pleasure to meet you,Cristina.”

I slide off my stool, pulling my jacket from the other to put it on, giving the broody man next to me a side glance. Liam looks amused yet irritated at the same time before his cheeks expand, showing his white teeth.

“So, it’s Cristina.” My name rolls off his tongue like it’s a delicacy, and I roll my eyes as if I’m bothered with the fact that he now knows my name.

“There goes my plan to stay anonymous for you.”

With a cocky grin, he rests his back against the bar. “But why would you want to stay anonymous for me?”

“Because, unlike me, you gave me your name. It doesn’t take long to find out what your last name means in this city. I thank you for your interest, but I’d like to stay out of trouble.”

I set my feet in motion to stroll past him, but he grabs my elbow and I hold still.

His presence in my personal space clogs my organs, the response of my body being nothing more than the desire to break his arm, but I tug it away.

“I think you’re lying. I think you love trouble,” he says.

“Ithinkyou don’t know me,” I scold, shifting my head so I can look at him.

Our faces are only a few inches apart, his gaze dropping down to my lips, and I intentionally part them to hold his attention. I always enjoy this push and pull. The part where I pretend I’m not interested, only to have them chasing me like a bunny on a hunt day.

Like I said, so easy.

“I know,” he concedes, his voice low and demanding. "But I’d like to change that.”

Of course he does.

“Thank you.” I smile. “But I have to decline.” I softly tug my arm loose, then count the steps as I set my heels in front of the other. A smug feeling settles on my chest, my inner self squealing in delight. It’s like a drug, giving my head a sense of euphoria that isn’t comparable to anything else. There is nothing more satisfactory than knowing a man wants you in every way possible. Enough for them to forget about reason, only focused on settling the lust you’ve ignited inside of them.

I have a feeling the bad boy in the city wants me exactly like that.

When I reach the pavement, I make big strides to walk the few blocks to where I need to be, but to no one’s surprise, I halt when my name is called out behind me.

Jackpot.

“Yes?” I turn around, surprise written on my face.

Liam charges his body toward me with big steps. His shoulders are broad, the fabric of his suit complementing his physique, looking intimidating if you’re on his bad side. But he doesn’t scare me, nor does he try to scare me, for that matter. He just wants to hold my attention, pinning me down with his intense stare, and he succeeds.

Because I want him to.

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