Keep My Heart (Top Shelf Romance Book 7)

by Lex Martin

  Ugh. I don’t want to be around her if she’s in one of her moods. I made that mistake once and promised I’d never do it again. But I feel bad for Drew and maybe being there will help break some of the tension. It annoys me, though, that she gets like that when he works so hard, barely taking time off because he wants to make a difference, and he loves his job. I liked her right away when they first started dating, but as of lately, I haven’t really found much to like.

  Just to mess with him, I send him another text back.

  Viola: I’m staying home then!

  Drew: Ha! I’ll see you Saturday, sis! Expecto Patronum!

  Viola: You’re an idiot. Avada Kedavra!

  At least he could try to use spells in the right context. And yes, I used the killing spell because the thought of being around Mia and him while they are arguing makes me want to murder. I wish Courtney were home, so she could be my sidekick during this little weekend adventure. But at least Travis will be there to distract everyone. He’s perfected that, at least.

  I stretch and close my eyes, trying to push Travis out of my mind. Those old feelings I buried so deeply are trying to resurface. I can feel them bubbling on the edge and soon, if I don’t gain control, they will spill over. I’ve tried to ignore the buzzing that’s been roaming my body since he touched me, but it’s useless. His intoxicating lips make me feel like I’m drowning, and with Travis King, there’s no chance of survival.

  There was a time I believed Travis would’ve given me the world. Even though we were young, it didn’t matter. I was Ginny Weasley, and he was Harry Potter, and we were destined to be together. Sometimes, when you look at a person, you just know. I knew then.

  The first time I met Travis, my ten-year-old heart told me I’d met the person I’d spend the rest of my life with. But the heart was wrong. The heart told lies. It took years to repair the damage he caused, and somehow, he’s ripped off the bandages that held me together. And I hate that I want him.

  Something so wrong shouldn’t feel so right. His lips on my skin and his hands on my body make me forget everything. In those moments, it’s just Travis and me, and the raw emotions fueling the fire. I swallow hard and close my eyes tight. My body quickly begs for a release, and I can’t deny the need.

  I need water for my parched mouth, but I stop outside of Travis’s door instead of going to the kitchen. I swallow as I put my hand on the knob and turn. I’d never paid much attention to his room, and I shouldn’t be nosy, but curiosity has gotten the best of me. I walk over to his dresser, and my eyes drift over the hardwood. I open the top drawer, and it’s full of photos, baseball cards, and trinkets. On top of the pile are pictures of his childhood dog, Beast, and him and Drew throughout the years, and tucked away is a Polaroid picture of me and him sitting under the big oak tree in the backyard. We aren’t looking at the camera, but he’s looking straight at me. His hair is shaggy, and he’s wearing a baseball cap. He always looked so cute in that hat. My head is tossed back, and I’m laughing hard at something he must have said. I don’t even remember this picture being taken. I turn it over, looking for some sort of date, and on the back I see the words “My Princess” scribbled in a messy handwriting. I can’t help but think about the summer that ruined it all and how things could have been different.

  I set the picture back in the dresser and walk over to his bed. As I sit on the edge, I run my hand across the dark blue sheets that smell like summer rain. So, this is where the magic happens.

  The light scent of his soap and cologne fills the room. I’m surrounded by him, and the need to have him almost swallows me whole. Sneaking around in his room and lying on his bed in nothing but a T-shirt and panties is a turn-on.

  I try to fight the desire until the need overcomes me. I rush to Drew’s room and grab my little black bag and clothes, then go to the bathroom. I turn on the shower and stand there for minutes as thoughts of Travis rush over me like the warm water. I take my time washing my body, the soapsuds dripping down my stomach and legs. I can’t remember the last time I pleasured myself, but I need it.

  My hands find their way down my body. My nipples are hard peaks. I pinch one, imagining Travis’s hands touching me all over. It’s almost too much to handle. I move the shower curtain and take my vibrator from its little black bag and turn it on low. I press it against my other nipple and tuck my bottom lip in my mouth. I lean my back against the wall and prop a leg on the edge of the tub, and as soon as I press the vibrator against my swollen clit, I gasp. I can’t hold back the moans. I relive how it felt to have Travis’s fingers deep inside me, pleasuring and pushing me to the limit. I don’t know how much longer I can last as I sink deeper into the pleasure.

  I glide the vibrator inside, allowing it to fill me, and I’ve never been so wet or turned on while doing this. My fingers are slick as I run them up and down my slit, and I know it’s because of Travis. My fantasy takes over, and I tug my nipple, allowing a shot of pleasure and pain to course through me. The vibrator against my sensitive bud causes my body to react instantly. Travis was right; it doesn’t feel the same as his touch. He knows what my body needs and wants as if he’s always been my lover.

  My body begs for release as the orgasm builds deep inside, but I continue to tease myself, allowing the impending pleasure to linger. I’m right on the edge, and I imagine Travis standing at the bathroom door, silently watching me with a sexy grin on his face as he demands me to come. The fantasy of him is almost as good as the real thing. My body begins to tremble as I move the vibrator along my pussy. The thought of him has me losing myself under the warm water, struggling to stay standing. The powerful orgasm rolls through me, and as I come, his name leaves my lips.

  Chapter 13

  Travis

  I’m beyond relieved when I finally get to leave work. Today’s been…interesting…to say the least. I’ve been assigned the project of a lifetime, which I’m pumped for, but of course it comes with strings attached—Alyssa Crawford.

  Needing to let off some steam, I drive to the gym for another workout. I make sure to take my earbuds in with me this time. I don’t need any more distractions, and the louder the music, the better I lift.

  Luckily, the gym is quiet today, and I get a good hour in before I call it quits. I need a hot shower and food, but then I remember Viola will be at the house. After the way we left things last night, I’m not sure I’m ready to face her, but I won’t run away from whatever it is we have going on between us.

  Things with Viola Fisher have been messy and fucked up for years. That’s nothing new. But the way she gave in to me the other night? Now, that’s definitely new. This game we’re playing is dangerous, and it’s a lot worse with Alyssa. If I piss her off, it could cost me my entire career. However, if I screw it up with Viola, it could cost me everything else. Both are too risky to be gambling with, yet here I am.

  Shit, it’s only Monday, and I already need a drink.

  As soon as I pull up to the house, I see Viola’s car in the driveway, and while part of me is relieved, the other part is terrified at which version of Viola I’ll be greeted by.

  Turning the doorknob, I cautiously walk in, listening for any signs of life inside. I walk pass the kitchen and see no movement, I walk toward the living room and see her sitting quietly on the couch with another one of her nerd books.

  Her hair is pulled up in a messy bun, but it looks wet, as if she just got out of the shower. She’s in her normal black leggings and a ratty college T-shirt, and her black-rimmed glasses frame her heart-shaped face. She continues reading even as I step closer, either too invested in her book or ignoring my existence completely.

  “Hey…” I say, testing her for a reaction.

  “Hi,” she mutters, not even flinching.

  “How’s it going?”

  She swipes her Kindle, keeping her eyes fixed on the electronic page. “Fine.”

  I pinch my lips together, rocking back on my feet. “Okay, then…” I mumble to myself, taking the hi
nt and getting out of her way. For some reason, her indifference feels worse than when she greets me with a Hey, asshole or Fuck off, Travis. After all these years, it almost feels like her pet name for me—with a side of hatred.

  I turn on my heels and walk to my room to grab a fresh set of clothes. Just as I’m about to walk out with a pair of shorts and a T-shirt in my hand, I see my top dresser drawer has been left open. I scan the room, looking for any other evidence that someone’s been in here, and the moment I walk closer to my bed, I smell it. I smell her.

  Viola’s been in my room.

  And possibly, on my bed.

  Now why would Viola Fisher, president of the I Hate Travis King Club and all-around good girl, set foot in my bedroom? The corner of my lips tilts up, curiously, wondering what she was looking for and what it is she found.

  That girl can shoot daggers at me until she’s blue in the face, but her body will give her away every time. She may hate me on the surface, but there’s something inside her that isn’t telling the whole story.

  I walk into the hallway and peek around, but she’s still sitting on the couch, reading. I want to ask so badly why she was in my room, but I’ll save that for another time.

  Walking into the bathroom, her body wash scent immediately takes over my senses. A mix of fresh raspberries and something else consumes me as I undress and turn the shower on. Does she have to be every-fucking-where?

  Work left me tense and going to the gym helped a little but not enough. I want to wring Alyssa’s neck for using Sloan to her advantage. She has me right in the palm of her hand, and she knows it. She knows I’ve been trying to get promoted to bigger projects, and the second I give in, she pulls the rug out from under me.

  But how do I say no? How do I walk away from a promotion I’ve been working my ass off to get? Or the better question is, how do I survive the project without Alyssa Crawford eating me alive?

  I’m so distracted by my thoughts that it takes me a moment to see what’s behind the shampoo bottle on one of the shelves. What the hell is that?

  Brushing both hands through my hair to push the water out of my eyes, I see it much clearer. Once I grab it and hold it in my palm, I know exactly what it is.

  A pleased smirk spreads wide over my face at the thought of her using this in the shower and screaming out her pleasure. Pressing the button, I feel it come to life and imagine Viola thinking of me as she gets herself off.

  Now I know exactly why she came into my room—inspiration.

  Once I’m finished, I turn off the shower, then grab my towel and dry off. I don’t leave without her little toy in my hand. I’m about to give Viola Fisher a taste of her own medicine.

  With my towel still wrapped around my waist, I strut down the hallway back to where she’s sitting, her nose still stuck in her eBook. I almost have to do a double take to make sure she’s breathing.

  “So, V…” I stand behind her and lower my body, crossing my arms over the back of the couch where her head is resting. “Good book?”

  “What do you want, Travis?” The disdain in her voice doesn’t go unnoticed. I can only laugh at how bored she sounds.

  “Well, I was thinking we could play a little game.” Her eyes blink up away from her Kindle, but she doesn’t turn her head. “Winner gets bragging rights for the rest of the week.”

  She lowers her lashes, her expression barely changing. “Not interested.”

  “Hmm…” I say, pretending to really be thinking it over. “I think you’ll be very interested in this game. See, it fully benefits you. I only get partial benefits.”

  I see her throat move. “Then why would you even want to play?”

  “For the thrill, princess. You know I can’t deny a challenge.”

  Her shoulders move up and down, her breathing speeding up. “Fine. What is it?”

  She doesn’t even take her eyes off her Kindle, but I’m about to change that.

  “Close your eyes.”

  That gets her attention. She jerks her head toward me, furrowing her brows. “Are you joking?”

  “What? You don’t trust me?” I ask, the corner of my lips tilting up and giving me away.

  “I wouldn’t trust you even if Jesus himself came and blessed your forehead with a Bible in his hand.”

  “Funny you bring up what’s in my hand…because I have something I know you’ll really enjoy.”

  She narrows her eyes, knowing I’m definitely up to something.

  “Viola…” I lower my voice. “Close your eyes.”

  She waits a moment to read my face, but I don’t give anything away. She finally exhales and closes them.

  “Good girl,” I praise. “Now relax.”

  She obeys and releases a gentle breath. “If you smash a pie or something in my face, I’ll feed your balls to the birds,” she threatens, and my smile widens.

  “I wouldn't dare,” I mock. “The name of the game is Guess that Object. Are you ready?”

  She sighs. “Sure.”

  I step in closer to her neck and inhale her clean scent. If I didn't want to wring her neck the majority of the time, I’d be tempted to do much more than just smell her.

  I bring my lips closer, just below her ear and place a soft kiss. Her body shudders. I see the strands of her hair stand as her skin pricks with goose bumps.

  “Is this where I guess?” she asks, unamused. “What's rough, dry, and promises an STD?”

  I back away, trying to read her. I know she's fucking with me, but how can she pretend her body didn't react the way we both know it did.

  “That’d be your virgin vagina,” I answer before she can.

  She clenches her teeth. “That doesn't even make sense. How would you get an STD if I was a virgin?”

  “So you're finally admitting you're a virgin?”

  “No, asshole.”

  “Then I rest my case. No evidence supports your theory.”

  “Are you fucking high or something?”

  “No.”

  “You make no sense.”

  “Fine, how about this? What's thick, long, and vibrates?” I don't wait for her response before continuing, bringing the toy around her and softly brushing it over her pebbled nipples. “And is used to make you come harder than a porn star?”

  Her eyes spring open as she lowers her eyes and notices the toy in front of her.

  “With my help, of course,” I add.

  Her jaw tightens, and I see her body go rigid. “You wouldn't know what to do with that,” she hisses, grabbing it out of my hand.

  “I'm pretty sure you don't know what to do with that.”

  “I know enough not to need you.” Fuck. She’s feisty today.

  “That’s not what it sounded like the other day.”

  “That was a moment of weakness.”

  “Are you saying you'd rather get off with some fake cock than a real one?”

  “When I have to. What's it to you anyway?”

  I furrow my brows, really seeing Viola in a much different way. I expected her to be humiliated when she realized she left it in the shower, but she’s barely flinched. Instead, she owns it completely. She's definitely not an innocent twelve-year-old girl anymore. She's the one girl who sees through my lines of bullshit and charm.

  “It's important to me if you can get yourself off or not,” I say genuinely and mocking all at the same time. “As your temporary roommate, it's my job to make sure you’re taken care of. If this little battery-operated thing isn't doing it, we’ll need to seek other options.”

  “The vibrator only does part of the job,” she informs me, her words strong. “While I fuck myself, I rub my other hand over my clit, faster and faster, until my knees buckle, and I scream.”

  My throat is so fucking dry that I can barely get the words out. “You're messing with me.”

  She smiles and lowers her eyes back to her Kindle. “You should know better than to play mind games with a princess, King.”

  She thinks she’s won, bu
t the fun is only beginning.

  I can’t believe Travis just walked out here with my vibrator, all cocky and hell-bent on embarrassing me. I’ll deny it till the day I die, but I was so distracted by how sated I felt that I completely forgot it afterward. Knowing how well he can work me up, Travis King and a vibrator can only mean dangerous things—dangerous things and dangerous thoughts.

  I finish reading my chapter, and when my phone vibrates, I see I have messages from Jason and Courtney. I smile as soon as I read her message.

  Courtney: You’re missing out on all the hot cowboys. I’ve already been proposed to twice.

  I’ve missed her since she left. Had I known the circumstances that I know now, I would’ve changed my mind.

  Viola: I wouldn’t mind if you brought one home for me. However, with my current track record, maybe don’t. I’d just scare them off.

  I glance over at Travis, who’s made himself comfortable in the chair next to me. After he dressed, he brought all his work shit out here and started looking over his laptop. Aside from his basketball shorts and junkie T-shirt, he looks all business. I can still smell the fresh scent of his shower on him, and it’s consuming my senses as I try to stay focused on hating him.

  Courtney: You mean staying with Travis isn’t helping your dating life?

  I can hear the sarcasm dripping from her mouth.

  Viola: Travis lost his shit when I went out with Jason.

  I hit send, quickly looking up to see if Travis can tell I’m talking about him. He’s barely flinched, so I know he’s completely zoned in on whatever he’s working on.

  I pretend I’m reading on my phone as I wait for her to respond. She knows all about Travis since she flew back and visited me for a couple of weeks last summer. I always stay with Drew, but Travis and I have always had a mutual agreement not to be around each other anymore than we had to. Not much time has passed, and I’m already in hell.