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“Howdy, purdy girl. What’s a hottie like you sitting all alone for in a shithole like this?”
The man was loud, obnoxious, and obviously drunk.
One of those traits alone was a turnoff but three was toxic.
“Because I prefer being alone versus dealing with asshole men who have no clue about what a woman needs on any level. Thekind full of testosterone and hot air, the combination dangerous and not in a good way.” I offered a sweet, butter-wouldn’t-melt-in-my-mouth smile, but my words were laced with the kind of venom I used in the courtroom. Maybe the old girl was back, the loss of my previous boyfriend all in the past.
And maybe I needed a CAT scan for caring about him in the first place.
If the mystery man was a fantasy in disguise, the asshole standing in front of me wearing a sweat-stained suit and a sloppy grin was the polar opposite.
Polar, as in bears. As in Antarctica. As in the ice queen.
The moniker would remain in the back of my mind for a long time.
“What are you saying?” he continued to slur.
“I’m saying thank you for stopping by but don’t let the door hit you in the ass on the way out.”
I could tell by the hapless look in his eyes that he had no clue what I was talking about. Sadly, I almost felt sorry for him.
Until he placed his sweaty palm on my knee, and I wanted nothing more than to snap his wrist, which was completely unnecessary but would make me feel a hell of a lot better.
Only I didn’t need to; the mystery man from before was doing it for me. He had his hand wrapped around the smarmy guy’s wrist in a split second, bending it back at an awkward angle. I was certain I heard cracking bones.
The man howled like a baby, tears instantly running down both sides of his face. Then my savior got in the man’s face, hisjaw clenching as he spoke. “I don’t think the lady wants to be touched.”
The rich, husky baritone struck me all over again, pulsing heat unlike anything I’d ever felt deep inside. I was caught off guard by the moment, fighting the urge to encourage the hulking mass to finish with what he started with the realization that it was very wrong.
“Get off me, fuckhead,” the smarmy guy said, throwing a punch into the mystery man’s stomach.
That’s when I felt a chill coursing through every vein as my savior’s eyes turned dark, devoid of any emotion but rage. I could swear I was in a vacuum as two brutal punches were issued, the cracking sound matching the squirt of blood from the smarmy guy’s broken nose.
Gasping, I threw my hand across my mouth, shocked at my savior’s behavior. But oh, my God, his protective actions had me fully aroused, my pussy throbbing.
I had to snap out of it. As soon as I placed my hand on the stranger’s arm, the jolt of current was more electrified than it had been before, the live wire dancing between us shoving aside everything else.
“You should alter your thinking, buddy,” he said with the same deep, rich baritone.
The unwanted dude started to cry. “You broke my nose.”
“I’ll break more than that if you touch the lady again.”
That’s when I allowed my gaze to fall to his massive arms, my fingers unable to grasp more than a few inches. The artwork onthe right one was impressive, flexing every time he squeezed the jerk’s wrist dangerously close to the breaking point.
“Don’t. Please, don’t. He doesn’t deserve your wrath or mine.” I kept my tone purposely low, almost seductive in pitch and tonality, which would undoubtedly give the man the wrong impression. He was in incredible shape but there was a teeming rage tearing through him that had little or nothing to do with the asshole who’d insulted me. I could feel it, the searing heat coursing through his body. He was the live wire, his actions unpredictable.
“Pu-lease… Let… me… go,” the other man wheezed, trying to claw my savior’s arm with one hand while slapping his other one uselessly against the dark hunk’s chest.
What troubled me even more than the fact the muscular man could easily snap the smarmy dude’s wrist was that I was completely mesmerized by his beauty. It was strange to call a man beautiful, but this guy qualified. And unless the lighting had arranged a color change, his eyes were a vivid purple. Not lavender. Not blue with twinges of plum. The kind of purple that evoked thoughts of passion. They couldn’t be natural, but somehow, I knew they were.
“I don’t appreciate men who paw women without their consent,cherie. That is not allowed in my world.” His voice was absolutely breathtaking, the slight French accent subtle yet driving into the deepest part of my core. “At least not unless the woman belongs to him.”
The moment of being in a bubble was almost shattered by his last statement. He was just another controlling man, entitled because of his beauty. I should have learned that falling for a gorgeous man was akin to losing all self-control and self-worth,spiraling into a vacuum that would eventually spit out remnants of one’s soul.
The fact no one was bothering to try to stop the situation meant the other customers were as mesmerized by the dark stranger as I was. Still, the situation had gotten out of hand.
“I can take care of myself. But thank you. Now, please. Stop. Now.” I used the more authoritative voice that I did inside the courtroom, hoping that he’d take the hint. Fortunately, he did, releasing his strong hold. “And for the record, women don’t appreciate the thought of being owned, used, and kept as a possession. That’s pretty much a turnoff.”
