My heart beats a mile a minute. This man is my type to a tee. He’s so clean and proper—a perfect little rich boy from the nice part of town. And, let me tell you, they’re the most fun to pound into the mattress. Sullying the sons of Belmont’s rich and powerful brings me joy like nothing else.
Gabe must notice my staring because he leans closer andwaggles his brows at me.
I roll my eyes in response. “He’s clearly lost. Look at his clothes—a stray from the rich part of town.”
As much as I love railing a rich boy, they’re also dangerous. Losing it with a guy whose father has a team of lawyers at his disposal is no good.Stick to the trash, Torren. They’re fun and hungry for it.Still, the temptation is strong.
Gabe shrugs as if he’s saying, “So?”
“What would he do with the likes of me? Nah, I need to stick to my own kind—the dirtbags. I know how to woo those boys. Plus, he might not be gay.”
Gabe raises his brow, giving me a knowing look. He ain’t wrong. I know a gay face when I see one, and my hunky prince across the way definitely has the look of someone who wouldn’t mind a fat cock up his ass.
Preferably mine.
“Okay, okay, he’s most likely into dudes based on appearances, but he won’t be into me. Trust me.”
I can overhear my prince asking questions about the menu, so I turn my gaze back to him and stare at the way his neck bobs when he speaks. I love staring at a cute guy’s neck.
I love having my hand around a guy’s neck.
I shake my head, freeing myself of that thought.Don’t get wound up, Torren—just chill.
But god-fucking-dammit, it’s hard to chill with a little morsel like that sitting right there.
I bet he’s never worked a day in his life.
Well, I’d make him work. I’d make him crawl on his hands and knees and beg me for it.
To see a boy like that fall apart under my touch would be pure heaven.
Maggie finishes jotting down his order and walks away, leaving him alone and awkward. His eyes scan the scene, taking in his surroundings, before they fall on me.
Time stops.
He’s looking right at me.
My stomach drops like I just missed a step on a staircase, and his lips slowly curl into a smile. It’s a little more devilish than I would have expected from a guy like that.
My gaze zeros in on him. It’s almost like a movie, where all the lights fade except for a spotlight shining down on my hot Richie Rich, making him radiate with sex appeal.
I live for moments like this. It’s why I stay off the apps. Nothing beats the moment when two people catch each other’s eyes from across the room—the tether of attraction that’s impossible to resist is almost euphoric. My face is flushed, and the base of my stomach grows warm.
He’s so pretty.
He’s also vaguely familiar, and my mind turns through a Rolodex of memories trying to place where I’ve seen his face before.
He looks down, his finger trailing over the counter, then suddenly looks up and asks, “You gonna ask me my name or just stare at me all day?”
I’m stunned. Speechless.
And I like it.
“I don’t know. Rich boys like you don’t usually introduce themselves to guys like me.”
“And how do you know I’m rich?” he asks.
I huff a laugh. “Everyone in this diner knows you’re rich. You exude it.”
