Damn, this girl makes me crazy.
I give my best ‘I’m about to be a real asshole’ look “Why do you keep sticking that cute nose of yours where it doesn’t belong? It’s obvious you’re not wanted—anywhere.”
Rolling her eyes, she crosses her arms, pressing her breasts together and up. Her scoop-necked shirt isn’t that revealing, but suddenly I feel as though I’m looking at a forbidden image.
An image that I want to touch and taste.
“You don’t have to be an asshole to me in private,” she says.
“But in public’s okay?”
Her brows crash together, slender and dark. “Well, no, but I can’t control what you do in public.”
Control me? I rise to my feet and move to stand right in front of her. Her head is shoulder height, but her stance makes her appear taller. “You think you can control me in private, baby girl?”
She blinks, and it’s not a shocked blink. It’s of annoyance. Point to me. “That’s not what I meant. I meant—”
“You think that out there, out in public, that I’m—I’m some kind of asshole, some kind of bad boy that’s really all nice and soft on the inside when it’s just you and me?” I ask, dreading her answer.
A tiny nod. “I think you’re afraid.”
That nod, coupled with that truth, enrages me. I swipe the bottles, the bags of chips, and the cards off the table. They fall to the floor and seat with satisfying thuds.
Hell, I’d throw the table across the room if I could, but it’s bolted down.
I slice my gaze to Bliss. Her eyes are wide and she’s taken a couple of steps back.
My jaw clenches at the sight. She’s actually scared of me, and I don’t blame her one bit. Looks like that defective Morgan gene is alive and well inside of me.
“Do I look afraid to you now?” I cross the small distance between us and grab her upper arms. She stands there, chin tipped up and mouth parted. Her sweet breath is coming out in soft pants.
Behind the lens of her glasses, her pretty green eyes search my face, but she doesn’t say a word.
“Do I?”
“Yes,” she whispers.
“Damn you.” I dip my head, finally doing the thing I’ve wanted to do since I first set eyes on Bliss.
I kiss her. And it’s rough. It’s hard.
It’s everything.
I want to punish her for seeing through me, but her mouth is sweetly submissive to my demands. The first tentative stroke of her tongue almost undoes me. I jerk her closer, until her full breasts are pressed to me, and explore every inch of her mouth, unable to get enough of her taste.
Every conversation, every false want and need, drops away until all that’s left is Bliss. She’s what I want. She’s what I need.
She’s not my prize, my reward for doing anything. Hell, I should be punished for the things I’ve done and the things I’ve lied about.
But this girl, this girl in my arms… I’m kissing her without the taint of my family’s legacy touching her. And it’s a heady thing. I’m getting drunk off her kiss, dizzy with lust.
My fingers tighten their grip, but she goes even softer while still fully participating. A soft moan leaves her, and one of my hands steals down her arm to squeeze her breast.
Before I know what’s happening, I’ve maneuvered her across the room and onto the couch, following her down on it. I break our kiss and gaze at her. She’s lying under me, her lips all swollen and her curly hair wild across the cushions.
“Tell me to stop,” I growl.
Her fingers wind in my hair. “Don’t stop.”
I nibble on her ear, worrying the lobe with my teeth. “Tell me no. Tell me you haven’t forgiven me for what I said to you. For saying that I wouldn’t fuck you, for comparing you to her, for everything, and not meaning a word of it.”
This is wrong, and thing are bound to get worse than complicated, but I can’t make myself stop. Bliss feels too good, too soft, and too firm in all the right places as I touch her, as I unfasten her jeans and work my hand inside them.
My hand connects with cotton panties, then slides under the elastic. I slip a finger between her springy curls, finding her damp. Her body arches, connecting with mine, and making my dick go hard as she spreads her legs.
“Tell me,” I insist, one last burst of sanity firing in my brain.
“Yes, yes, yes.”
“Damn it, Bliss.” I fasten my mouth to hers, easing a finger inside of her just as my tongue finds the recesses of her mouth.
“Oh God,” she whispers, tearing her mouth away.
Pulling my finger out a little, I slide it back inside, but not easily. Oh no. She’s tight and hot, and I’m out of my mind.
“Baby, tell me if I’m hurting you.”
“Doesn’t hurt too much.”
“Are you a virgin?”
Her eyes open wide, connecting with mine. I can see myself in her glasses, lust and desire on my face. She turns pink. “Yes.”
Of course she is, I think, jaded from all the girls who’ve claimed that I was their first. On the Internet, of all places.
“Is that… you don’t like virgins?” she asks, her voice barely a whisper.
So not going to answer that. “I like you.”
“I like you, too. Well, when you’re not being an asshole.” She gives me a shy smile with lots of emotions behind it.
Despite thinking there’s no way in hell I’m exploring that or even the emotions she invokes, a sort of tenderness takes hold of me. With my free hand, I gently remove her glasses from her face, and then reach up and over her to set them in the closest chair.
“Don’t want to break them,” I say by way of explanation. The last thing I want her to think is that I find her less attractive with them on. Honestly, she’s gorgeous either way. I have no preference when it comes to Bliss.
She smiles at me, all sweet and grateful. Yeah, she’s a virgin, and there’s no way I’m putting anything inside of her that’s not my fingers. “See,” she says, “nice and soft in private.”
“You’re nice and soft all the time,” I murmur, dipping my head to hers once more. I kiss my way up her throat until I’m back at her luscious mouth. “Like me playing with you like this?”
“Hmm-mmm,” she moans a little.
I brush her clit with the calloused tip of one finger, over and over. She makes this sexy as hell purring sound, and I swear to God that I could come in my pants from that sound.
“Little Miss Bliss likes her pussy petted.”
Her cheeks turn pink. “Is that… bad?”
I grin. “Just this side of wicked.” Then I do it again and again, until she’s whimpering and mewling in my arms.
She grips at my shoulders. “More.”
“Anything you want, beautiful girl.” I take a shuddering breath, reminding my dick that it’s staying in my jeans tonight.
“Jaxon, get off her.”
My body goes cold, though my hard-on is still raging. Slowly I lift my head, finding Violet staring at me, at us… outrage in her eyes. Only I know she’s concerned for Bliss, not jealous over me.
And fuck it all, reminding me that my goal is to win Violet back. Not get my fingers wet in some little virgin’s—
“Oh God, not again.” Bliss scrambles away, turning around. “I’m so sorry. I’m… I’ll go pack my things.”
“No,” Violet and I say at the same time.
Bliss rounds on us, her face fiery red. Her eyes are unfocused and I grab her glasses, handing them to her. She mutters a thank you and puts them back on.
“I don’t have to pack my things?” she asks, her lips trembling and making me want to take her in my arms again.
“It’s not your fault, and you’re not leaving,” I say, before Violet can. Backing away a few steps, I plop down in the nearest chair and grab a pillow to cover my semi.
“Damn right it’s not,” Violet says, and then she turns to me. “I told you to stay away from her.”
<
br /> “You lost the right to have any say in my life, when you took up with my brother,” I say, knowing that every word was a lie. I drove her to him, not the other way around.
“Took up with you brother? I wasn’t the one doing Everett’s bidding by sleeping with my best friend,” she snaps, hands fisting on her hips.
“So you think you finally figured it out.”
She makes a face. “Figured what out—that your dad liked to reward you with other girls while we were dating? Callie told me all about it, before I found her with you. Guess I should have listened to her instead of believing you.”
I want to shake her, to shake my dad. To pound on the table and kick out all the windows in the bus. Those same damn lies remained. “You believed her? She was with me, when you had your accident, and she sure as hell didn’t put up a fight to leave you lying in that damn field.”
Her face falls, doubt clouding her eyes. “I’m not sure who to believe anymore.” Out of the corner of my eye, I see Bliss slowly edging her way to the door, but I’m not stopping her. I’m back on the path to win Violet back.
“Well, here’s some honesty for you, Violet Rae Givens, I never cheated on you. I loved… love you. But there are things about my family that you don’t understand, things that even I don’t understand. But maybe if you got off your self-righteous high horse, you might understand that I hurt when you told me about our baby. I wanted to die that night.”
Bliss freezes, her attention back on us.
“Don’t look so shocked, Bliss. Everyone who hasn’t been living under a rock for the past year and a half knows I got Violet pregnant.”
“I didn’t know.”
I rub the bridge of my nose. “God save me from whiny, don’t-know-shit-about-shit virgins.”
This time Bliss runs out of the bus, feet flying down the stairs, and my dumbass starts after her, throwing the pillow across the room as I stand. “She can’t see worth a damn at night,” I say to Violet.
One of Violet’s bodyguards follows, and the panic that had begun to rise settles down. She’s safe.
“You’re so stupid,” Violet says and I round on her.
“Excuse me?”
“Two girls, two chances to do the right thing, and you mess up both times.”
Violet’s right but there’s only one girl I’m concerned about—Bliss. I mean, Violet. Damn it.
I hold up my hands, palms out. “Listen, what you saw earlier… that was a lack of judgment and it won’t happen again, if you agree to my conditions.”
“Are you threatening me or her, because I don’t care, but Bliss shouldn’t be anywhere in this game of yours. She’s a sweet person with feelings that shouldn’t be trampled on.”
Like I did to Violet. “Fine.”
“Fine?” Her brows scrunch together. “Just like that? You’re not going to mess around with anyone while you’re scheming to win me back?” She makes a noise of disbelief.
“As long as you agree to give me a chance after Cole doesn’t show up.”
“You mean if he doesn’t show up,” she says, and then blinks. “But he’s going to show up. I know he will.”
I shrug. “Whatever makes you feel better, doll baby.”
“Ugh. I hate it when you call me that.” Violet crosses her arms over her chest. “I guess it will be worth it, to see a horn dog like you all salivating and unable to do anything on the very teeny-tiny slim chance that my Cole won’t show up.”
Lucky bastard. He has her love, even after sending her away. What I wouldn’t give for that kind of love. “Your agreement, or I’ll start sweet talking Bliss again.”
Violet rolls her eyes. “Do you really think you could talk Bliss into—?”
I raise a brow.
“What am I thinking?” She spies the mess in the floor and on the seats of the booth but doesn’t say anything. “You got a deal.”
“Kiss on it?”
“Dream on, lover boy,” she says, brushing past me. “What we had is over and done.”
Her breast skims my arm, and I wait for that familiar feeling to wash over me, to make me want to breathe her in and take her in my arms. But it doesn’t happen.
And I don’t wait around for it to happen. Instead, I set out into the night, hauling ass to the tractor-trailer where I know Bliss will be.
I find her sitting on the floor, a makeshift light set up for her as she sews a button on one of my shirts. Music plays softly in the background, some kind of alternative music that I’d only listen to if I were drunk or high.
Since I’m neither right now, I clear my throat and wait for her to acknowledge my presence.
“Go away, Jackson.” She says the ck portion of my name softly, unlike the hard x of my stage name. I blame my ears for picking up on the nuance.
I’m not sure what to make of her using my given name. She’s never done it before. “Bliss—”
“I said go away.” She bites off the thread and stands, hanging up the shirt before smoothing it out. Then she packs up her supplies.
“Just wanted to make sure you’re all right.”
She turns to walk past me, head down, like she’s all defeated. “I’m fine. Thank you.”
Thank you? My temper snaps. “Grow a damn backbone, Bliss, and tell me off.”
Her head snaps up, full lips mutinous. It’s the first hint of anger I’ve ever seen on her face. “I’m not about to give you a reason to feel better.”
“What?”
“Most people think that turning into some screaming banshee somehow proves you’re this strong woman who doesn’t take crap from a man, but from what I know, it only gives the other person the right to feel better.”
In some weird, twisted way, her logic makes sense. I had wanted her to yell at me, to cuss me out, or even throw something at me, because I know how to deal with that. It would make me feel better if she got back at me.
But this way… I feel worse than ever.
Maybe I underestimated her.
“Or hit them,” she adds softly.
That stops me cold, colder than when Violet caught us. “Hit them?”
She nods, holding the small, plastic container in her hands out in front of her, like a barrier. Or a shield.
“I scared you, didn’t I?” The last thing I’d ever want to do is scare her, even if I’d already done it. I’ll never do it again. I’ll find another way to express my anger and frustration.
She shakes her head, sending dark, curly hair swaying. “Not really.”
I don’t want to ask, but I do it anyway. “Why is that?”
“Because I’ve lived through worse.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Violet
Looking back, I know the night I found that video on the Internet was the beginning of the end for Cole and me. If I could have changed what happened afterwards, I would have. If I could have protected him better, I would have.
If, if, if.
My life is full of those.
Tonight we’re in Wilmington, and it’s a couple of hours before show time. Jaxon’s been brooding in his bus while I’ve been keeping Bliss close by, trying to get to protect her from that dumbtail.
I don’t care about Jaxon’s stupid plan when it comes to me. He’ll never have me again, not even if he took a vow of chastity. It hadn’t bothered me at all to see them together. No thoughts of get off my man or he’s betrayed me—again—came to mind, just pure worry for Bliss.
Honestly, I’m really concerned about her. That girl’s locked up tighter than my Nana’s recipe for her famous blueberry cobbler.
And I’ve been missing Lacey. She doesn’t have a cell, so I can’t text her, and she’s always working, helping homeschool her little brothers and sisters, or is in class, so phone calls to her house are hit or miss.
Mostly they’ve been missing.
Feeling lonely, I glance down at my phone, at the picture of Cole that is always in the background. His name is at the top, and soon my thumbs are s
weeping over the keyboard.
I miss you.
Can’t we talk about this?
You can come to the concert in Charlotte, my treat, since it’s on your birthday.
Kelly can come to, b/c it’s kid friendly.
Until the end, that is. Then I do a striptease for one lucky member of the audience. That would be you, birthday boy.
Like some desperate thirteen-year-old, I send every last one of those texts to him, hoping that one gets a response.
Suddenly the … appears in the text bubble on my phone. Excitement grows, faster than a kudzu vine wrapping itself around a pine tree. Cole’s not ignoring me anymore.
Giddy, I wiggle in my seat, fluff my hair, and take a deep breath.
I don’t know who this is, but send me a selfie. Quick.
My heart plummets to my stomach, where acid eats it and all the hope that had bloomed.
Me: Not funny.
Wasn’t trying to be. Seriously, though, who is this?
I look away from the screen, vision blurred by tears that start falling down my cheeks. Bliss sits down beside me, her arm coming around my shoulders.
“It’ll be okay,” she whispers, but her tone isn’t that convincing and I know it won’t be.
Biting my lip, I give in to the inevitable and text the person on the other end.
Me: Nobody.
*** *** ***
Jaxon
We’ve made a pit stop in Burgaw, after spending the night in Wilmington. There are plenty of places for us to roam in this small town, without the locals bothering us. They’re too used to celebrities, ones bigger than we are, shooting movies here.
Hell, I’ll be on location here next year, unless Everett’s already pulled the plug on it.
“Have dinner with me,” I say to Violet.
She’s sitting on a bench in front of a store that sells homemade candles and soap, drinking Cheerwine while eating a Moon Pie. That girl always did have strange taste in food.
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