“What are you doing here?” she snaps.

“I want to speak to Makayla.”

“She’s busy. She doesn’t have time for men who are going to mess with her head.” Amanda is in full protective mode and although she is only one third Torment’s size, the force of her will makes me shudder.

“It’s okay. I want to talk to him.” I pat her shoulder but she doesn’t move.

“She wants to talk to me.” Torment’s firm voice silences the whispers at the back of the room.

“She doesn’t.”

“She does.”

“She doesn’t.”

Torment explodes into motion. “Dammit, Amanda. Get out of my way.” He reaches around her, grasps my hand, and pulls me into his chest.

My pulse races. My body flames. Moisture pools between my thighs.

So hard. So rough. So warm. So dominating. I want more. More of this erotic manhandling of my body. More forceful, alpha-male.

No. I give myself a mental shake. Dominating bad. Manhandling bad. Forceful bad. Did I learn nothing when I was a child?

I press my hands against his chest and push myself away.

Torment frowns. “I need to see you. Now. Alone.” His body vibrates with tension and I slide my hand into his to calm him down.

“Okay. We can talk in my bedroom. It’s just down the hall.” I give his hand a squeeze. He gives my hand a tug. Next thing I know, I am flying down the hallway behind him. He pulls me into the bedroom, slams the door behind us, and spins me around to face him.

“That was dramatic and just bordering on unacceptable behavior,” I say, breathless.

He rakes his hand through his hair. “I couldn’t wait. I had to talk to you.”

With a shaky inhalation, I press my back against the door. Every nerve in my body is on fire. “Here I am,” I breathe a whisper. “Talk away.”

“I don’t have a girlfriend.”

My eyes widen. “You came here to tell me that?”

“I came here to see you.”

I melt against the door in a pool of warm fuzzies. “You saw me last night.”

“I saw you leave last night. I didn’t understand why until I got your text.” He takes a deep breath and leans his forearm against the door beside my head. So close. So hot. His broad chest blocks out everything in the room, and I have to tilt my head back to see his face.

“You should have given me a chance to explain.” His eyes soften and he twirls a strand of my hair around his fingers. “I would never lead you on. I’m a one-woman man and right now you’re the woman I want to get to know. I’ve never met anyone with so much compassion. You’re beautiful, strong, and brave. You see into the heart of people. You listen. You did more for Homicide and Flash than patching them up. You made their lives better in the short time you were with them.”

Stunned by the onslaught of compliments—more than I’ve ever had in my life—I have to force my words out. “But I saw you with…Pink…Sandy…and Homicide said she was your girlfriend.”

His face darkens. “Maybe you misheard. Sandy and I had a casual and brief relationship. It didn’t work out. She has had a hard time accepting that it’s over.”

“No one else?”

His slow, easy smile steals my breath away. “No one.”

He tucks my hair behind my ear and strokes a finger along my jaw. “Will you come to the club now?”

Argh. What a confusing man. Did he do all this just to get me to work after all?

He cups my jaw with his hand and tilts my head back, stroking my cheek with his thumb. “You have the most expressive eyes,” he murmurs. “Beautiful, emerald-green eyes. I can see what you’re thinking. And you’re wrong. I would have come here tonight even if I didn’t need you at the club.”

I squeeze my eyes shut and press my lips together. How nice to be so transparent. What if he can see how badly I want him to kiss me? Hmmm. My eyes fly open.

Torment studies me and smiles. “Come to the club and afterward we’ll go for coffee and talk.”

Club? Coffee? Talk? Not really what I had in mind. How about testing out the king-size bed covered in six hundred thread count sheets?

“I wasn’t lying to you when I said violence makes me uncomfortable.” The gentle movement of his thumb sends heat swirling through me, and my voice thickens. “Watching you fight made me feel ill.”

“I just need to know you’re there.” His rich baritone deepens “I don’t understand it, but you make me feel calm, grounded. I haven’t felt like that since…I was a teenager. I won’t let you run away again. If there is something bothering you, talk to me. I promise I’ll listen.”

The power of his voice sweeps through me. His voice warms me. His touch electrifies me. And knowing he won’t let me run makes it that much easier to stay. “I’ll come with you,” I whisper.

I am pathetic. I am weak. I am so overcome with lust, I don’t care. But it is more than lust. Something inside him calls to me—something that needs to be healed. And for all his rough edges and brooding intensity, I sense he’s a good person. I saw it in the way he treats his fighters, the way he runs his club, and the way he looks after me. Dangerous? Yes. Passionate? Definitely. Committed? Still not too sure.

He smiles slowly, his cheek creasing. “I would have thrown you over my shoulder and carried you to the club if you’d said no.”