"Yeah?"
"Then it's gone and I feel like a shallow asshole. But sometimes I can ride that second into an hour, a day, a week. I get to feel as important as I do when you give me that look."
"What look?"
"Like I'm the only person who understands you." He presses his forehead to mine. "I miss that so bad."
"You're a millionaire." I dig my fingers into his back. I soak in all the heat of his breath on my skin.
"Two-point one million dollars, yeah. You saw the numbers."
"You're famous."
"I know."
"You're a fucking rock star, Ethan. I'm a math grad student. You're the one who's important."
"No. You're important." He drags his lips over my cheek. "You're the only person who makes me feel important."
"I…"
"This." He drags his lips over my neck until I'm groaning. "Is important."
"What is this?"
"Filling you with pleasure."
"You say that to all the girls you get off in crowded clubs?"
"No, I don't. I say it to you." He slides his hand between my legs. "Not gonna lie to you, Vi. Even after everything, I'd never lie to you."
I nod.
"I've fucked a lot of women. I'm always generous. Always make sure a woman comes. But it's not like with you. It doesn't mean anything. It's routine. A way to get out of my head. A way to forget about you."
"Ethan…"
"I need to feel you come on my hand now." He presses his lips to mine. "Tell me you want that too."
"Someone will see."
"Do you care?"
"No."
"You still like feeling dirty, Vi?"
"Yes," I breathe.
From the hungry look in his eyes, it's clear we're done talking. That should bother me—the stuff we're saying does not in any way imply this is casual—but it doesn't.
Right now, nothing bothers me. I'm light. I'm free. I'm a fucking cloud.
And I want to feel dirty. I want to feel all the pleasure Ethan can give me.
He strokes me over my panties. I look up at him, watching the wonder spread over his face as he watches me back.
Goddammit, he looks so sexy in control.
He strokes me harder. He pulls me closer. He brings his lips to my neck. Then his teeth are sinking into my skin.
I gasp much louder than I should. But I don't care about that either. Knowing we have an audience makes me hotter. Knowing we can get in trouble makes me hotter. The truth is, I trust Ethan to wipe away any complications.
I trust him to erase everything that hurts, to turn all the pain in my life into pleasure.
This—us bringing each other pleasure—is the only thing, besides math, that has ever made sense to me.
I let my eyes flutter closed as his teeth sink into my neck. The hint of pain calls all my attention. It wakes up all my nerves so that the next time he strokes me, I feel more pleasure.
I feel more, period.
"Harder," I groan into his ear.
I need more of him.
I need all of him.
He pushes my panties aside. I suck in a shallow breath and look into his eyes. I'm buzzing with anticipation. I need him more than I've ever needed anything.
"Please." I dig my fingers into his skin.
He nods, his eyes glued to mine, and he stokes me with his thumb. He teases me with one finger. Two.
He slides his fingers inside me.
Pleasure pools in my pelvis.
With the next motion of his fingers, I forget about everything but how badly I want to come.
Tension in my core knots. Those strong, calloused fingers are magic. The friction is driving me out of my mind.
I suck on his neck as he fucks me with his fingers. There. I'm at the edge. Everything that isn't pleasure fades away. The music blurs together. The lights of the club blur together. I feel only the pressure of his fingers.
I taste only his skin.
There. With the next thrust of his fingers, I come. I groan into his mouth. That's not enough. I have to break free of it. I have to bring my lips to his ear so I can groan his name.
The orgasm is heavy and intense. I shake as my sex pulses. Pleasure spreads through my torso.
Every part of me is awake and alive and every part of me feels good.
But that isn't enough.
He needs to feel good too.
I guide Ethan's hand to my chest and I press my hips against his.
He's hard.
I cup him over his jeans. "I want you too."
"Later."
I shake my head. My eyes find his. "I want you in my mouth."
Hunger fills his eyes.
Damn, the way he's looking at me with this mix of need and adoration makes me want to go again.
"Saw an empty room." He slides his hand around my waist and guides me through the dance floor.
There's a private room in the corner. At least, the small window in the door makes it look private. The window offers a pretty nice view. We'll be on display if anyone wants to look.
This is dangerous. Not as dangerous as the feelings stirring in my stomach but dangerous none the less.
His eyes find mine as his fingers curl around the door handle. There's an offer in his eyes. He's checking to make sure I'm still game.
God damn, the affection in his eyes makes me warm all over. It's not the same heat as the sex, but it feels just as good.
I nod.
He pulls the door open.
I step inside. Then he's inside and the door is shut. This room is big, for private parties, or maybe just for busy nights. It's the middle of the week. The main room is plenty packed, but there's nowhere near enough people to spill into here.
I muster up all the confidence I can manage, look him dead in the eyes, place my hands against his shoulders, and pin him to the wall.
His eyes fix on mine. They're equal parts hungry and needy.
I rub him over his jeans as I drag my lips over his neck.
He groans, his hips bucking. Right now, he's at my mercy.
I'm drunk on the power of it.
I drag my lips over his collarbone. I tug his t-shirt out of the way enough to plant kisses on his chest. My hands go to his belt— it's the same one he always wore, my hands remember it well—and unbuckle it. I slide my hand into his jeans so I can cup him over his boxers. There's barely any fabric between my hand and his cock. I can feel how hard he is, how warm he is, how big he is.
His hand goes to the back of my head. Gently, he pushes me onto my knees.
I tug his jeans off his hips. Then the boxers. Then I'm face to face with Ethan's cock.
Damn, I missed this.
I brush my lips against his tip. He shudders and tugs at my hair.
Goddammit, I really, really missed this.
I tease him with my lips again and again. Then I tease him with my tongue. He shudders and groans, but he does nothing to spur me on.
I flick my tongue against him until his palm presses into the back of my head. He looks down at me and pushes my blouse off my shoulders. He tugs at my bra until my breasts spill out.
His fingers go to my nipple, teasing me the way I'm teasing him.
Dammit, that feels good.
Slowly, I take him into my mouth.
His lips part with a needy sigh. He keeps one hand on the back of my head, guiding me gently. The other stays on my breast. His fingers take their turns teasing me.
It feels dirty kneeling in front of him in some empty private room at some anonymous club.
Dirty, I like, but I don't want to feel like a throwaway groupie.
I look up at Ethan as I take him deeper.
He tugs at my hair, his eyes filling with pleasure. "Fuck, Violet."
My name rolls off his tongue like poetry. It wipes away all the doubts lingering in my mind. I'm not cheap or anonymous.
I'm important to him.
I run my tongue over him as I suck him
from base to tip.
His hands go to the back of my head. He guides my movements, so they're faster, deeper. Then he's groaning as he's thrusting into my mouth.
I relax my throat to take him deeper. My eyes find his. I watch the pleasure spreading over his face. His teeth sink into his lips. His lips part with a groan. Another. Another.
His eyes close. His brows knit then soften.
"Fuck, Violet. I'm gonna come."
He moves harder and faster. I do the same. I suck hard as he thrusts into my mouth.
He tugs at my hair as he fills my mouth. He tastes good. Sweet, salty, and so fucking familiar. I wait until I have every drop of him then I swallow hard.
He pulls me to my feet and presses his lips to mine. "Fuck, you're amazing."
"You say that to all the girls who go down on you in clubs?"
"No. Only you." He tucks his cock back into his boxers and zips his jeans. His touch is soft and gentle as he puts my bra and blouse back into their proper place. "Only you, Vi."
He kisses me like my lips are oxygen.
Chapter 19
Ethan
The cell phone alarm is a rude awakening. I swear Mal arranges the tour schedule just to fuck with us. Who plans on leaving at eight A.M. after playing until eleven the night before?
My head is heavy from the lack of sleep. I need coffee, a lot of coffee.
Then my eyes pass over Violet and I don't need shit. Violet naked in my bed is a better wake-up call than all the coffee in the world.
I drag my fingertips over her hips, side, chest, shoulders. She stirs as my fingers find her neck.
Her green eyes blink open. "Don't tell me I'm supposed to wake up right now."
"You don't. You can stick around here all day and take the train to Seattle tonight."
"Tempting."
"Then you'll miss exploring Seattle with me."
"What's there to see in Seattle?" She lifts her arms over her head as she yawns.
"The original Starbucks?"
"I don't like chains."
"You go to Peet's Coffee all the time."
"Because it's not in New York City."
"The Space Needle."
"I don't like needles."
I laugh. "It's not that kind of needle."
"I've seen pictures. It's long and pointy at the top." She pushes herself up. Her hands go to my bare chest. "How did you get so many tattoos?"
"Don't mind needles."
"Still. They must hurt." She traces the lines of my chest-piece—a winged heart with an ornate lock. "This one is new." There's a clear implication in her voice. Did you get it because of me?
Can't answer with a clear no. None of my tattoos were analytical decisions. I'm not the analytical type. With all of them, I felt the need to mark my body with an image. So I did.
This one too.
She looks up at me. "When did you get it?"
"The summer after you left." The day she started school in New York. Yeah, I'm a creepy stalker for knowing that, but it's not like I had to go out of my way. She posted it all over her social media.
It doesn't take a detective to put the pieces together. I didn't think now that I've lost Violet forever, I better get a tattoo proclaiming that my heart is locked forever. But, deep down, I knew it was for her.
She presses her lips to my chest. "I like it. It's sexy. But I'm sure you get that a lot."
"Mostly I get oh, baby, do you think I have the key to your heart?"
"And that makes you rock hard?" she teases.
"Exactly." I run my fingers through her hair. This—Violet in my arms—this feels right. Need to keep her here.
She rests her head on my chest. Her fingers go to my right arm. She traces the lines of my ink—an ocean-themed sleeve. "When did you get this?"
"When I got my first five-figure royalty check."
She laughs. "Sounds like you. At this point, you probably laugh at five-figure checks."
"Barely worth the pain in my hand from endorsing them."
"Well, when you get that many of them." She smiles as her eyes find mine. "Do we have time for breakfast?"
"Not if you want to grab a matcha latte."
She blushes. "That's not even a decision."
"I'll make you eggs on the bus."
"You cook now?"
"I can make eggs, pasta, and grilled cheese."
She smiles. "Learn to make guacamole and you can feed me forever."
Fuck, I'd like to. I smile back. "Teach me."
"We're on the bus all day tomorrow, right?"
"Yeah."
"Then tomorrow." She drags herself out of bed. Her eyes rake over me. She takes me in slowly, like she's savoring every second of it. Her tongue slides over her lips. "How much time do we have?"
"Half hour."
"Oh." She finds her underwear and bra on the ground. "I guess I better change."
"We can fuck on the bus if you want."
Her cheeks flush. "That's not going to endear me to Mal or Kit."
"They fuck on the bus all the time."
"Still." She changes into her clothes and zips her boots. "I'll grab you a coffee. Still dark roast, splash of milk?"
I fight my urge to smile. She remembers. "Almond milk so you can drink half."
Her cheeks flush, but she admits nothing about her coffee-stealing tendencies. "Iced or hot?"
"Hot."
She leans down to press her lips to my forehead. "Morning breath. Meet you in front of the hotel?"
"I'll be there." I stare at her ass as she leaves.
Violet arrives just in time to step onto the bus. As promised, she has a coffee for me. There's enough almond milk and sugar it's clear the drink is half for her, but I need the caffeine too much to mind.
Most of the time, I drink my coffee black, but not because I prefer the flavor. It's because drinking it like this—sweet and creamy—makes me think of her.
She steals half the coffee as we hang out in the small kitchenette.
Mal and Kit hang out on the couch, speaking in hushed voices. Joel hides behind his sunglasses, occasionally groaning about how loud or bright it is in here.
Mal and Kit take turns laughing at his hangover.
For me, this is normal. It's normal enough it feels like home. But Violet looks nervous. She alternates between shooting Mal frustrated glances and watching me make breakfast.
I wait until I'm done constructing our scrambled eggs, with vegetables and one avocado for each of us, to ask about it. "You want me to tell Mal to go fuck himself?"
"No. He's just…" She scoops eggs with her fork and takes a long, slow bite. "These are really good."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah." She takes another bite, chewing and swallowing for longer than should be humanly possible. "It's not important." She looks up at me with a smile. "Try these. They're amazing."
Maybe it's not important. I squeeze into the seat across from her and try the eggs. They're as good as any eggs I've ever had.
"See." She plays with her fork. "You're good at lots of things."
No. I'm good at a few things. Not at the one thing that matters to me at the moment—getting Violet to open up to me.
I steer the conversation to her favorite topic—sci-fi TV shows—and get lost in the way her green eyes light up with enthusiasm. Violet spends most of her time trying to convince people she's tough. She is tough, but she's soft too. She's full of passion, enthusiasm, and understanding.
We hit enough traffic that the drive to Seattle takes four and a half hours. Sitting across from Violet makes the time fly by.
After we check in to our separate hotel rooms, I lead her to the first stop on our afternoon of sightseeing.
The Sky View Observatory is at the top of a downtown skyscraper. At lunchtime on a weekday, the building is packed. Violet sticks by my side in the crowded elevator. She slides her arms around my waist and rests her head against my chest.
Holding her body against mine makes
me warm all over.
The elevator arrives at the forty-somethingth floor. We walk around the corner to the second elevator, the one that goes all the way to the top.
This time, we're alone. Violet sighs with relief.
Her lips curl into a smile as she looks up at me. "Think we have time for anything fun?" She hooks her leg around my hip, grinding her pelvis against mine.
"I'm game to find out."
She shakes her head and unlocks our bodies. Her eyes go to the elevator's control panel. "We only have ten floors to go."
It's a shame. She looks hot as fuck in her tight black and red dress. I want to tug at the corset lacing until her breasts spill out. I want to push that short skirt to her waist and dive between her legs. I want to pin her to the elevator wall and drive my cock deep inside her.
The elevator ding pulls me out of my thoughts.
She claps her hands together. "Let's go."
I take her hand and lead her through the admissions counter—she doesn't fight me about paying. She walks straight to the window looking out on the bay. She gets close enough to press her nose to the glass.
Her eyes go wide. Her smile spreads to her cheeks. I get why Violet tries to convince everyone she's a stone cold bitch, but I'm surprised she's as good at it as she is.
This—the girl squealing with joy over the fantastic view—is the Violet only I know. But this is Violet. Her guard is down. She's utterly without pretenses.
She's mine now as much as she was mine when she was coming on my hand last night.
My hands are itching to be between her legs again. I shove them in my pockets to keep them in line. This isn't the time or the place.
She locks arms with me and guides me through the exhibit. Every angle of the view fascinates her. It's a hell of a view. Seattle has everything— miles and miles of suburbs, a smattering of skyscrapers, puffy white clouds and a gloomy grey sky, deep blue water in every direction.
Hell, we can even see the Space Needle from here.
Once we've seen every angle the observatory has to offer, we start at the beginning and do it all over again.
Violet takes in the view of the pristine suburbs. "You think I'd like it in Seattle?"
Dangerous Kiss (Dangerous Noise Book 1) Page 13