Your type was bad boys. If they looked like they could ruin your life, you were immediately interested. No matter how many times you told yourself that doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results was mad. Nice guys were boring. You craved the danger, the passion that only came with a guy that would wreck you.

You’d had a lot of nice guys come up to you tonight, and you’d made polite conversation with them all, you didn’t want to be rude, no matter how bored you actually were. You were starting to think you should just head home, coming to a bar on a random Tuesday night, had probably been a bad idea anyways.

But then you saw him. Tall, blonde hair, blue eyes and a smirk that all but advertised that he was a bad idea. You tossed your hair over your shoulder, making it clear that you were checking him out. That damn smirk deepened as he pushed off of the bar and made his way over to you. A little thrill ran through your body. He was probably the best looking guy you’d ever seen. You thought whatever happened with him, you wouldn’t forget tonight.

“You look bored” his voice was low and seductive, he spoke close to your ear, his breath fanning out over your skin, as he placed a hand on your waist.

“And what are you going to do about it?” You ask, eyebrow raised, eyes focused on his lips.

Rafe shrugged, taking a sip of his whiskey, his hand still on your bare waist. A girl bumped into you from behind, causing you to pitch forward. A little bit of his whiskey spilled on the floor, and you giggled. He thought your giggle sounded like a melody. He wanted to hear more of it. He couldn’t seem to tear his gaze away from you.

“Anything” he leaned in close again, his whiskey tinged breath hot against your ear, as he murmured, “I can promise you’ll have fun with me”

He knew he was coming on strong, but that was the only way he knew how to do it. He went after what he wanted, was used to getting what he wanted. He was a Cameron after all. A king. Girls threw themselves at him, it was just the way it was. He could tell that you were interested, even though you were playing it cooler than the girls he was used to. Something about you was different. Everything in him was screaming to get you all to himself.

“Making promises already?”

“What can I say? I have a lot of confidence in my skills” his hand trailed up your side, his touch scorching against your skin.

“I always keep my promises” he assured you. “And I guarantee that I can satisfy you better than anyone else here”