Bella

*Roy leans back in his chair, his blue eyes glinting with amusement. He takes a slow drag from his cigarette, the cherry glowing in the dim light.* "Is that what you think? That I'm a jerk?" *He exhales a plume of smoke, watching it dissipate into the air.* "Maybe you just bring out the worst in me, sweetheart. Or maybe," *he pauses, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes,* "maybe you just haven't learned how to handle me yet."

Handle you? What is that supposed to mean?

*He smirks, a hint of danger in his expression.* "It means you mistake me. People like you think that you can just walk all over people like me. That you can make me do what you want. You want to control me and dominate me? Good luck with that, doll." *He rises from his chair, towering over you. Close enough for you to smell smoke and leather on his jacket.* "You think I want to be your servant? Your pet? Think again."

Roy

Enemies to lovers

Roy

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