by Ashley Logan
Rick followed his eyes and sighed sadly. “Well that explains Violet’s escape to Buffalo. I’m sorry Serge.”
Serge barely heard him. Straightening to full height, Serge’s attention was on Vi.
A young man had approached her from behind, resting a hand on her shoulder. As he spoke in her ear, Violet completely stiffened, as if frozen in fear.
“What is it?” Rick asked, noticing the change in his posture.
“Trouble,” Serge replied through a tight jaw, “For that guy.” Moving toward Violet, he watched as the guy’s hand slid from her shoulder and from Violet’s reaction, it was trailing down her bare back. Serge growled and increased his pace.
“Watch your behavior Serge,” Rick warned trying to slow him by pulling on his arm. “Don’t do something that will land you in court with these clowns.”
Serge grunted and pressed on.
“Evening gentlemen, I need to whisk this beauty away,” he said in a rush, pulling Violet towards him and away from the man at her back. Holding her close, he spun around, inserting himself between her and the other men.
“You okay?” he whispered into her hair. Relaxing into him, Violet nodded.
“Is he one of them?” he asked, fighting hard to control his even tone. Violet’s tension returned and he had his answer before she nodded again.
“Excuse me,” came the annoyed voice that accompanied the tapping on Serge’s shoulder. Before he turned, Serge scanned the room. “Hey Bruno!”
Spinning around at the call, Bruno kissed the hand of the old lady he was talking to and strode over, his eyes reading the situation.
“I’m taking your advice,” Serge said as he moved Violet safely into Bruno’s arms. “I really should express myself through dance. Get me some music.”
Turning to eyeball the man at his back, Serge took a deep breath and forced a wide smile. It probably looked slightly crazed and more than a little menacing. “I’m gonna need you to back right up there, buddy. I owe Ms. Wheeler a dance.”
The others backed up, encouraged by some of the ladies from the group he’d entertained earlier, who seemed more than keen for the next chapter in the romance - especially because it appeared as though Serge was about to sacrifice his dignity to impress the woman he loved.
Serge heard the tiara lady, Estelle’s trill voice above the others. “And here was me thinking the show was over! What luck!”
Violet’s tormentor was not so quick to move out of the way and Serge smiled more genuinely as he turned to Violet and the music started to pump from Bruno’s phone.
“For you, my love.”
Serge closed his eyes and nodded his head to the beat. Starting small, he moved to the music, whilst taking careful note of his target. When he felt sure he’d been convincing enough, he made a swift move one way, swinging an arm through the air at speed. Quick as anything, he performed the same move to the other side at just the right angle to clock the guy in the face. The crunching sensation below his fist was sinfully satisfying and Serge spun around to feign terror at the damage he’d caused, only in doing so, he knocked the bleeding man to the ground. Stumbling once to show he was off-balance, he toppled onto the man, forcing his elbow firmly into the guy’s ribs as he landed on him with his full weight.
“Oh my goodness! I’m so sorry!” he exclaimed, pushing himself up by leaning on the guy’s newly bruised ribs. “Are you alright? Here,” he said, pulling the handkerchief from his breast pocket and squeezing it over the guy’s broken nose. “Keep the pressure on to stop the bleeding,” he said, squeezing harder as the guy cried out in protest.
“Ooh, too hard? Let me help you up,” Serge said in a sympathetic tone as he planted his knee on the guy’s hand, pressing all his weight into it as he pushed up to his feet. The guy cried out again, batting Serge’s offered hand away and making to push himself up.
Just then, Gina came rushing in with a drink in each hand.
“What’s happening? Is someone hurt?” she asked, as her stiletto heel pressed into the guys hand and he screamed. Gina jumped at the sound, spilling her drinks over him as she ‘lost her footing’, falling knee first into his groin.
“Oh my god!” she cried, recovering her feet as the guy curled into a fetal position whimpering. Looking down at him, Gina raised her hands to her mouth dramatically. “He’s bleeding - someone get a cloth or something! Is there a doctor in the house?” Her hands left her mouth and began to flap in panic until Rick led her away.
Serge tried his best not to laugh at Gina’s impersonation of a drunk socialite. “He’ll be okay, won’t you buddy?” Serge said, reaching down to pull the man to his feet. It wasn’t easy as the guy recoiled from his touch, but with a firm grip, Serge hoisted him up and roughly dusted him off. “Sorry you got caught up in my dance there, fella. Guess I should have left it to the experts. Let’s get you a seat,” he said half dragging, half lifting the guy through the crowd to the seats at the side. Plonking him down, Serge thrust the man’s head between his knees.
“Stay like this so you don’t faint and keep pinching your nose to stem the bleed, buddy. You’re going to be just fine.”
“You’re not!” the guy said, raising his bloodied face to stare at Serge. “You assaulted me. Expect to hear from my lawyer!”
Rick came to stand at Serge’s shoulder. “Excuse me, von Haagen is it? I am this man’s lawyer, and I can assure you that with a room full of witnesses to confirm not only that you came to harm accidentally, but also that my client did in fact ask you to allow him room before he began his entertaining and actually, quite heart-warming, though absurdly hilarious dance, you will not be able to prove my client intended to assault you. This was nothing more than an embarrassing incident, for both of you. Here is my card,” he said tucking it into the guy’s front pocket and giving it a gentle pat. “Have your people call mine if you want to pursue this any further.”
Leading Serge away, Rick chuckled to himself. “Very inventive, Sergio. I had no idea you had such rhythm.”
“Your wife puts on a decent show as well,” Serge replied, smiling a little as he wiped the sweat from his brow and rolled up his shirt sleeves.
“I always wondered how cops learned to rough folk up without it being able to stick, but I never thought it would involve dancing!” he said, laughing again.
Serge checked his knuckles and wiggled his fingers. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Serge replied looking around. “Where’s Vi?”
“I had Bruno and Gina accompany her to the lobby. She was being inundated by bored rich folk thanking her for the entertaining evening,” Rick answered, leading the way.
Rushing to Violet, Serge folded her into his arms and kissed her head as she cried into his chest.
“You’re safe, Vi. I won’t let anyone hurt you again,” he crooned, rocking her a little.
Shaking her head, she sniffed and pushed back so she could see his face. “I’m not crying because I’m scared. I’m crying because I’m angry at myself.”
“Again?” he asked in disbelief as he swept hair from her face. “Would you ease up on yourself? You did nothing wrong.”
“It’s the fact that I did nothing at all that bothers me,” she said, sniffing again and wiping her eyes. She stood taller and stepped back. “It’s been four years. I’ve taken every fight and self-defense class and strengthened every part of myself, but when he showed up and touched me, I did nothing. I froze.” She whirled away, her fingers clawing the air. “I still have no fucking power.”
“You have plenty of power,” Bruno said, viewing their small group. “I mean, you inspired Serge to dance in public, and this chick did you a solid too,” he said pointing to Gina. “Not to mention the guy behind the scenes tidying up the loose ends,” he added, poking a thumb in Rick’s direction. “Even if you couldn’t deal at the time, you have a ton of power at your back. Now,” he said, looking at their faces. “Are y’all leaving? Because I’m heading back upstairs. There’s this old
lady who adores military men and I’m this close to getting her to drop a bundle into the collection basket.”
Smiling at his tiny pinch gesture, Serge shooed him back up the stairs. “I’m sorry if I embarrassed you again, Vi,” Serge said, holding out his hand for hers. “Can I take you home?”
Nodding, she put her hand in his. “Thank you for all your help,” she said to Rick and Gina. “I’m really glad you were able to work things out.”
Rick held Gina closer. “Us too. You two entertainers go and get some rest. Beautiful show tonight, Violet. Truly wonderful.”
“Thank you,” Violet said graciously. “I’ll pass on the compliments to the crew. They’ve been working very hard.”
Gina nodded. “It showed. Really, very beautiful dancing, Violet. I hope you two will come to dinner again soon,” she added, smiling at Rick. “I promise it’ll go a little better than the last one.”
Smiling, Violet looked to Serge and nodded. “I’d like that. Good night.”
They waved goodbye as Rick and Gina headed for the door. Serge took a deep breath and released it slowly as they gradually made to follow. “Shall I take you to your apartment?” he asked quietly, running his thumb over the back of her hand. “We don’t have to do anything, Vi. I can sleep on the couch, or go home to mine. Whatever you’re comfortable with.”
Quiet a moment, Violet’s eyes traveled the grand space as if she were more interested in the old architecture than his suggestion. “I feel bad leaving when I’d promised Nina I’d do my best to drum up support.”
“As far as I can tell there was already a lot of money raised before we left. You weren’t the only one working the crowd. All your friends were too. I even had Estelle Swanson cutting another check for the rest of our story, and some of her friends followed suit. Rick and G, made a contribution and I donated a healthy chunk of change myself. You weren’t alone up there.”
“Violet!”
Turning at her name, Violet squeaked and Serge squeezed her hand. “I’m here,” he whispered, as the bloodied von Haagen approached.
“Don’t think I don’t know what you had that muscled-up playboy do up there Violet! I’m not finished with you!”
Violet looked to Serge and stood a little taller. Serge watched as her jaw set in determination and he gave her a reassuring nod. Letting go of his hand, she took the few steps to close the distance between her and von Haagen.
“Troy. I am finished with you. You and I both know what you did and you will never touch me again. Do you hear me?” she said in a cold and threatening tone.
Glancing at Serge in disgust, Troy shook his head. “You think a bit of muscle can stop me? If he lays a hand on me now, I’ll have him behind bars before you can blink, for as long as I say he needs to be. Will you miss him, Violate?” He smirked as Violet shuddered at the twisting of her name. “You and I are going back upstairs to talk this through with your darling mother. What do you think Auntie Eloise will have to say about you dancing at a strip club?” he said, grabbing her hand and pulling her back toward the steps. “That’s right, you little whore. I know!”
“You can do it Vi,” Serge said, carefully following and ready to break the guy’s nose a second time if he needed to.
“Do what, fucker?”
Twisting her arm free of his hand, Violet swung his arm around and using the same move she’d thrown Serge with, Violet had Troy von Haagen splayed across the glossy floor before he could even comprehend the change in altitude. Twisting his arm behind his back she wrenched it upward as he squawked.
Bending to his ear, Violet bared her teeth. “Don’t you fucking touch me asshole! The only whore I know is the one screwing your uncle for his millions. I love dancing naked and that bitch knows it, so go fuck yourself and blackmail someone else. I don’t need any of you and sure as eggs don’t need your dirty fucking money. Stay the hell away from me.”
Pressing his broken nose into the tile as she pushed herself up, Violet adjusted her dress and walked past Serge. “Come along, Moretti. You’re taking me back to your place and reminding me what love is.”
“Yes Ma’am,” Serge said with a smile as he caught up and slid her hand into his.
Once outside, the cool air of freedom hit. Taking his blazer, Serge draped it over Violet’s shoulders and grinned as they walked to the station.
“You did good, Vi.”
“It felt good,” she admitted, smiling. “Thank you for being there.”
“I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else,” he said, kissing her forehead and helping her on to the train.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
VIOLET
Serge closes the door behind us as I shrug out of his jacket. Tossing his keys on the counter he moves into the kitchen, his eyes on me the whole time.
“Beer?” he asks, taking two from the fridge.
“Love one.”
Opening both, he hands me one and takes a long drink of his.
“Now that you have me, whatever are you going to do with me?” I ask, tilting my bottle to my lips and letting the cool liquid run down my throat. I hadn’t realized how thirsty I was. “Mmm. That’s good.” Finishing the bottle I set it on the counter-top.
“Another?” he asks, his eyes still fixed on me with obvious appreciation.
Shaking my head, I run my fingers up my arm, smoothing the goose flesh his eyes have provoked.
“Then what?” he asks, leaning back against the kitchen counter and taking another sip of his beer.
Smiling, I let my eyes trace the lines of his body. “I asked what you’re going to do with me.”
“Honestly? I could just look at you in that dress and be grateful I’m allowed to breathe the same air as you.”
Feeling my cheeks warm, I look down at the emerald silk. “It might look better on your floor.”
Choking on his beer, he tosses the bottle into the sink and wipes his face with his forearm. Coming straight for me, he stops right in front. “Are you sure you want someone touching you so intimately after tonight?”
“Someone?” I shake my head. “Only you, Power Serge.”
His eyes soften around the edges and he kisses me, very gently on the lips. Tender fingers trail along my jaw and down, sweeping the thin straps first from one shoulder, then the other. His fingertips never leave my skin and his touch raises every tiny hair on my body.
I try to keep my breathing calm as my heart thunders in my chest and the front of my dress falls to my hips. Looking up at Serge, I forget about breathing calmly as his hungry eyes devour me and my insides clench involuntarily. Raising my hands to his chest, I can feel the thrum of his heart beneath them.
I unbutton his shirt slowly, keeping my eyes on his as I push it off his shoulders and drag it from his strong arms, letting it fall to the floor.
“Did I tell you you’re a wonderful dancer?” I ask in a whisper as I slide his belt through its loops and let that drop to the floor too.
Kissing his bare chest, I breathe in his masculine scent as I unzip his fly. “I appreciated your gallant stand to defend my honor, Sergio Moretti.” Pushing both his boxers and trousers down, I free his impressive erection.
Looking up I see him swallow roughly as his eyes search my face and his hand cups my cheek. I rest against his hand and his thumb runs over my lips. Taking it into my mouth, I bite it gently as my hand wraps around his cock.
Moaning, he closes his eyes, and smiling to myself, I sink to my knees and take him into my mouth. Inhaling sharply, he looks down to find me looking up at him.
Keeping our eyes locked, I take him as deep as I can, my mouth stretched taut around him.
“Violet.” His voice is no more than a hoarse whisper as his breath catches.
“Mmmmm?”
Serge closes his eyes, the struggle on his face plain to see. Turned on by his unguarded pleasure, I suck harder and faster, hungry to please, but Serge pulls away. Stepping out of his pants to keep from falling over, he pulls me back to my feet a
nd kisses me with an urgency that makes my knees begin to buckle.
Walking me back against the wall, Serge presses his forehead to mine, his erection pressing into my belly. “If you keep thanking me like that, I’ll be done in seconds. I said I wanted to take my time with you and I meant it.”
Rubbing against him, I grumble my disappointment. “I wanted to. I liked it. Can’t we be frantic first and take our time after?” I whine, hating that I sound so needy, but aching for him so badly that waiting any longer sounds like agony.
A low rumble escapes his throat and his hard body presses more firmly into mine. The cold wall at my back leaves me nowhere to go and I relish the heat radiating from him. Sealing my mouth with his, he fights with the long skirt of my dress, slipping his hand beneath and running it up my leg. Squirming under his touch, I break free from his kiss, needing more oxygen.
“Vi. You’re not wearing anything under there,” he says breathlessly as his hand rounds my ass.
“No.”
Moving his hand between my legs he moans and his erection strains against me. “You’re incredible,” he whispers, when he discovers how ready I am for him. Slipping his fingers inside of me, he makes me gasp and I rub against him shamelessly, twisting my fingers in his hair to keep myself upright.
“Serge, I don’t want to wait any longer. It’s been too long already,” I plead as his fingers hit that spot inside, making my legs give way. Holding me up by various means, Serge is driving me wild and it’s all I can do to hold on as my thighs grip his hand.
“Serge,” I cry, as my fingers fight to release the zipper on my dress. Pushing his hands away, I shove him back as I shuck the emerald casing from my body. Stepping from the pooled fabric, I leap on him, wrapping my legs around him and covering his face in tiny kisses until I meet his lips with mine. “Don’t make me wait.”
Walking me back to the wall, Serge meets my eyes and lowers me onto his shaft. Both of us groan in relief at the sensation and Serge stills a moment before withdrawing a bit and driving back into me.