Karen shoulders her way through the pub, spilling most of her cider before she falls onto the stool. She glances from me to the empty stool beside me. “Where'd Tom go?”

“He left.”

“He just got here."

“Well…” I angrily thumb toward the booth in the corner where Alex sits, most likely smirking. “He came over and insinuated that I'd sucked his dick."

Karen's mouth shapes a perfect O. Then her brow creases. “Have you?"

“No!”

Shrugging, she lifts her glass and tips it back. When she sets it on the table, there's a small line of foam on her upper lip.  

I stare across the pub at Alex, who every so often shoots me a sexy-as-fuck grin. God, I hate his horrible ass.

“What date was this with Tom?”

“Three.”

“He was too…” Karen scrunches her nose like she’s caught a whiff of week-old fish. “Boring.”

“Yeah. But he was nice.”

“Nice guys are never nice. They end up being assholes. And the assholes usually end up being the ones who treat you like a princess.”

I arch a brow at her before taking a swig of my drink. “And how did you come to this conclusion?”

“I’ve dated both. Once the nice guys get you hooked, they turn into jealous knobs. The assholes end up putty in your hands.”

One of the waitresses drops off the round of lemon drop shots I ordered. I grab one and gulp it back. 

An hour later, I’m onto shot number four. When I slam the empty container on the table, I catch Alex staring at me. His teeth pull at his bottom lip and his gaze drags over me like a dirty rag. I can only imagine how he must look at a woman just before he fucks her. And I bet that when he fucks a woman, he fucks her. Men who are arrogant beyond reason are always good in bed. That's what makes them lethal to a woman's heart.

The tip of his tongue darts out, wetting his lips. Suddenly, I'm burning up, tugging at the top of my dress to cool my heated skin. 

This is why I shouldn’t be drinking. The more I drink, the harder it is to forget how wet he made me when he trapped me between his half-naked body and the bed the other day. It took everything inside of me not to fall back on that luxurious mattress and spread my legs. Much to my dismay, I’ve found myself masturbating to the thought of him fisting my hair and taking me from behind countless times over the past three days. It’s not a migraine that’s kept me from work—it’s the palpable fear I have that I’ve already fallen victim to his bad-boy charm. This is beyond fucked up.

“Do you remember Garrett?” Karen snaps her fingers in front of my face. “Hello? Garrett, the guy with the motorbike and tattoos?”

I shake myself out of the Prince-Alex-is-an-asshole-who-I-want-to-hatefuck-into-next-week fog and look at her. “Yeah.”

“Absolute dick. Raging player, and then when we got serious he was a teddy bear. Brought me flowers. Massages. I walked all over that poor lad.”

“What does that say about you?” I grab another shot and shove it toward her.

“We’re not talking about me. We’re talking about how you need an asshole in your life.”

I tip the last shot back and snort-laugh. “Oh, trust me. I have an asshole in my life.” I nod toward Alex. “That asshole right there!" 

“One snap of his fingers and your panties fall off.”

If I could roll my eyes until I saw the back of my skull, that still wouldn’t be hard enough. My panties will never fall off for him. “Please, Karen.”

“He’s attractive. A prince.”

“Disgustingly arrogant.”

A wide smile shapes her cotton-candy pink lips. “And he’s looking at you like all he wants is to fuck you.”

“He looks at anything with a hole like that. I promise.” It takes every ounce of control I have to not turn around.

After a glass of water, I excuse myself to the restroom, not so much as throwing a crumb of a glance to the haughty prince nestled in the corner—although I sway my hips extra hard as I pass.

I wash my hands and put a fresh coat of sheer lip-gloss on, then leave the restroom while trying to zip my purse.

“I like you better without makeup.”

I startle at the sound of Alex's voice, dropping my purse to the floor, then clear my throat. “I’ll be sure to wear a full face tomorrow then.”

A group of drunk guys stumble past into the men’s room, and Alex takes the opportunity to close the space between us. 

I sidestep in an attempt to escape him, but I don't get very far because with one swift movement, he's right in front of me, pinning me to the wall with his body. 

“Wrong answer. You were supposed to say thank you.” His nose grazes the curve of my neck. Hot breaths blow over my skin, causing my stomach to flip-flop in anticipation. As much as I hate him, there’s this carnal part of me that wants him. His lips lightly press against my throat and my knees threaten to buckle. I wish he didn’t affect me like this, but as much as I hate it, I revel in it just the same.

“You shouldn’t pay compliments expecting thanks," I whisper. He laughs against my me, and a warm pull forms between my thighs.

“And you shouldn’t keep lying to yourself.”

His lips trails over my throat before he slowly pulls his face away, just enough that I’m left with no other choice but to stare into his steel-blue eyes. His gaze drops to my mouth before his thumb skims my bottom lip. My heart thunders like the hooves of a horse over the desert in my chest. Unrelenting and hard.  

“I fucking want you, Lily.” His thumb presses down on my lip, and I'm tempted to suck it into my mouth. Curious whether his skin is salty. When he pulls his hand away, I struggle for a decent breath. “And the way you can’t seem to catch a breath right now”—he inches closer and my pulse grows furious—“tells me all I need to know.”

Without warning, his mouth slams over mine. So warm and soft. My lips part, inviting his tongue in as I struggle to keep ahold of some form of reality, because this kiss—this kiss. There's an electric charge to it, like a lightning storm in the dead heat of summer, sparking with danger. His tongue thrusts brushes against mine and his hands fist my hair, tilting my head so he can deepen the kiss. The clatter of dishes, the sporadic cheer from the bar patrons all fade into the background until all I can hear is the clanging pulse in my ears. His teeth nip at my lip when he pulls away, and it's not until he’s taken a step back I realize I have his shirt balled in my fist, like I need something to cling to, to keep from melting into the floor.

He smirks before turning his back to me and rounding the corner of the hall.

I’m so fucked.