Crave — Joya Ryan

I'm Trade, and I have a foul mouth. I also have a very skilled mouth, and I have no problem showing off either. Women have a thing for "the bad boy". I play that part well, only I play it dirtier.

There's not much going on in my small town of Mohave, that is, until you walk in.

You.

You toss me a sexy smile and strut that A+ ass my way, and now I'm wondering what those high heels you're balancing on will feel like digging into my back while I'm between your thighs.

I was minding my own business, perfectly fine sitting here at the bar. But you had to walk in and mess with everything. You're noticed by the wrong crowd and that's dangerous. Very dangerous. For both of us.

I hate that I want you. We're from two different worlds. It can be risky here for a woman like you. So why don't you take your wide innocent eyes and expensive skirt and go back to where you belong. Because I'd eat you up and go back for seconds while you're still panting from my first taste of you.

But you don't leave. In fact...you come closer. You're playing with fire. Because now I not only want you, but I protect you. Fight for you. And it may not be enough to keep you safe. Problem is, you just may want me back...and I may be a small town bad boy, but I know when something is doomed from the start. And that is exactly what we are.