Page 4 of Irresistible Rogue

I looked at him again.

How old was he? The luscious lips made him look young. But the dark stubble combined with his eyes made him look much older. He really could’ve been anything from some college athlete in his early twenties who just upscaled very nicely, to a businessman in his early thirties.

He didn’t seem that much older than me, but he also did.

“Why?” I pushed back. I didn’t want this guy to know how flustered he was making me.

“Because I want you to.”

I looked away. I could not keep contact with those wolfish eyes. They were so light against his tan skin. And so… hungry. Yet he leaned casually on the bar, so relaxed.

I slid the drink closer to myself, leaned in and took a sip through the straw. He watched me do it and my cheeks burned.

I swallowed. It was delicious. I tried to focus on that instead of on the strange sensation of knowing that I’d just done what he told me to dobecause he wanted me toand we were both hyperaware of it. It was unsettling and electric.

What the fuck is happening right now?

I needed to call a friend. Use a lifeline. Something.

But I didn’t move.

“You’re not a football player,” I said tentatively. I searched for the right words, glancing at him. “You don’t look… bulky enough for that. But you definitely play soccer or hockey or baseball. Or lacrosse. I don’t know.”

“You’re trying to guess my profession, is that it?”

“You’re an athlete for sure. Or a very athletic claims adjuster.”

He chuckled softly, and it felt like flower petals dusting my skin. “You think I’m in insurance?” Damn, his voice was sexy. He was so… manly.

“You just seem like someone who’s very comfortable handling financial matters. Are you here for a business conference?”

“You seem to enjoy guessing. So, guess.”

I glanced at his clothes again, trying not to ogle his physique. “Maybe not business. A bachelor party? But the party was last night. The bruises are from your vigorous orgy with a cheer squad who was passing through. You met them in the lobby of your hotel.”

I thought that might earn me a chuckle again, amuse him, make him seem less intimidating. It didn’t.

He leaned a little more onto the bar, shifting a fraction closer to me. “You don’t pay attention to detail, little dove. These bruises are over a week old.” He ran his finger down his bruised cheekbone, touching himself as his eyes held mine in a way that made my mouth run dry. “So they couldn’t be from last night’s orgy.”

“No? How about the hickies?” My eyes darted to the bruising on his neck. “Those are hickies and not strangulation marks, right?”

“You tell me.”

“Hickies.”I think.“See, I pay attention to detail.” I tried to sound nonchalant and took another sip of my delicious drink, which I hadn’t actually thanked him for. Maybe I wouldn’t. “Do you?”

“Only when the details are interesting.” His eyes were still on me, and I tried to read between the lines of that.

I liked flirting. Loved it, actually. I was just usually terrible at it. But this guy was definitely flirting with me. My heart was drumming and my cheeks were burning and I loved having his attention on me. It was intoxicating.

“So… I’m a detail?”

“You’re the most interesting thing in this room.”

Wow.I had not been hit on this hard in… ever? At least not outside of a crowded nightclub near two a.m. when dudes were drunk and desperate not to go home alone. I knew I wasn’t ugly, but I’d never had a man who looked like this one laser locked on me like this.

“The hostess findsyouvery interesting,” I informed him.

“Too bad for her, the feeling isn’t mutual.”

---