Her hands slide into my hair as I make my way down, suckling each of her beauty marks the way I’ve been dying to since the first time I saw them. She rocks her hips, rubbing her center against my rock-hard groin. The friction is a torturous pleasure. Her heat alone is enough to make me come in my boxers like I’ve never been touched before.
She begins to pant heavily, her eyes drooping, skin flushed. I’d like nothing more than to watch her come apart in my arms. To see the look on her face as she falls over the edge. To hear her cries of pleasure. To feel the waves of ecstasy as they ripple through her.
If that happens, there’s no turning back. Consequences be damned.
Chapter Thirteen
VIOLET
My heart hammers in my chest, the throbbing between my legs echoing each beat as Thatcher comes to his feet, then promptly sets me on mine.
There’s still lust in his eyes as he glares at me, but his face pales with regret. A moment ago, we were both under a lust-filled spell. Then some asshole crashed into the wall of the hallway. When we both jumped in surprise, the enchantment was broken.
“Fuck,” he hisses again.
He begins to pace in front of me, his hands running through his disheveled hair as he mumbles more curse words. I watch him, remaining perfectly silent and still as I work to calm my stimulated body. Embarrassment heats my veins as the lust fogging my brain clears and I begin to fully become conscious of everything that was happening only a few seconds ago.
It all seemed to escalate so quickly. One minute, I was asking—more like begging—him to kiss me. The next, I was dry humping his freaking lap on the verge of a climax. Dear lord, that would’ve been painfully humiliating.
Thatcher Michaelson has managed to claim all my firsts. And one minute ago, I was more than willing to give them all to him. No one has ever made me feel that need the way Thatcher does.
He throws a glance my way, the remorse etched on his face causing my heart to sink before he pulls his eyes back to the floor. “No. I can’t do this.”
He comes to a stop in front of me, locking his stare on mine. “Dammit. Why did you come here?” His words come out angry, though his expression seems pleading.
I swallow the lump in my throat. “You know why.”
“Say it.”
His demand brings on a sudden bout of shyness. I wrap myself into a hug realizing there’s no point in being bashful. I’d been like a dog in heat moments before. If there was ever a time to be transparent, it’s now.
I take a deep breath, willing my shaky legs to hold strong. “I’m here, despite my better instincts, because of you. Okay?”
His teeth dig into his bottom lip as he takes a step away from me. “No, it’s not okay.”
He cradles his head in his hands, growling as he turns in a circle. When he’s facing me again, he gestures between us. “This can’t happen. We cannot happen.”
The air in my lungs comes out in a billow, like someone kicked it out of me. I gape at him, my eyes unblinking as I try to piece together the puzzle that is Thatcher Michaelson. There must be something I’m missing—a reason for all his screwed-up behavior.
Once I’m able to take in a breath, my confusion morphs into anger. “If that’s how you feel, why don’t you leave me alone?”
He lets out a condescending laugh. “Haven’t you been paying attention? That’s what I’ve been trying to fucking do.” His voice reaches shouting level, and my eyes dart to the bedroom door, then back, concerned the other partygoers can hear him. “Clearly, I’m incapable.”
I shush him, and he begins to pace again, mumbling incoherently about drug addiction and not being able to quit. He comes to an abrupt stop, then points to me. “You’re leaving right now. I’m taking you home. You shouldn’t be here.”
My disappointment bubbles into fury, and I huff. “No way. If you don’t want to be around me, then you leave. I’m staying.”
He blocks me as I move toward the door. “Christ. Why are you making this so hard? I’m trying to do the right thing here. You don’t belong in my world.”
“Your world?” I mock. My body begins to tremble with rage while he continues to meet my glare with a stony disposition. “Right. Of course.” I sigh.
My shoulder crashes painfully into his as I storm by him, my fists balled at my sides. “Well,” I sneer as I reach the door, “I’ll get back to the party and the person who’s happy to have me in his world.”
He’s to the door in a flash, slamming it closed with the weight of his body the second I begin to pull it open. I square my shoulders, ignoring the chill in my veins brought on by the wrath in his dark eyes.
“You aren’t seriously going to him after we—”
“After we what?” I push.
He straightens, lining his body with mine. For a moment, I think he’s about to show rather than tell me, but he remains silent and unmoving.
“We can’t happen, remember?” Caught off guard, he stumbles into the door when I shove his shoulder. He recovers quickly, taking a predatory step in my direction. His expression is more amusement than anger, but I hold on tight to mine. “As far as I’m concerned nothing happened in this room.”
His face falls before he turns his back to me. My stomach churns with sorrow as he swings the door open, even though I’m desperate to be free of this room. His scowl lands on me again, his lips twisting in disgust.
“You’re right. You’re not my fucking problem.” I gape at him, his words feeling like a slap in the face. “Do whatever the hell you want.”
He gestures toward the open door, and I force myself to put one foot in front of the other, not stopping until I’m in alone in the bathroom.
Chapter Fourteen
VIOLET
Aidan is talking to several of his teammates outside on the back patio. I can’t hear what he’s saying, but his gestures are over animated. My guess is he’s already put back a few drinks. It doesn’t seem like I’ve been away from him long, but between the time I spent with Thatcher in the bedroom, and then in the bathroom trying to pull myself together, it was likely a lot longer than it seemed.
The banging on the bathroom door went ignored as I took my time splashing water in my face and combing my hair. Then I stood there staring in the mirror at the girl who seemed like a stranger, waiting for my lips to thin and the red marks on my skin to fade.
My head is still a mess from everything that happened in that room. Thatcher had been so hot one minute, then cold the next. He was purposely pushing me away, claiming he was trying to do the “right thing.” I’m not sure what or who he thinks he’s protecting me from, nor am I certain it matters.
Maybe I should heed his warnings. Thatcher Michaelson is too complicated. He would only bring chaos into my life. Look how easily I tend to throw all my rules and common sense out the window. And for what? I’m not sure he even likes me. How could he? He doesn’t know me. Our interactions over the past couple weeks have been more physical than anything. We’ve yet to have a conversation that didn’t consist of saying shit to piss each other off.
As I’m starting to reconsider approaching Aidan, he spots me through the glass door and waves me over. I plaster a smile on my face and take a deep breath as I step outside. All of Aidan’s friends stop talking, keeping their focus on me as I make my way toward them.
When I reach his side, Aidan takes my hand in his. The warm smile on his face only increases the weight on my chest. I don’t deserve it. I’d come to this party with him, then disappeared with another guy and did things I had no business doing.
“I was starting to get worried about you.” He brings my hand up to his lips and places a light kiss on my knuckles, then tugs me a little closer as he leans in to whisper, “I thought maybe Thatcher had stolen you away.”
I open my mouth to tell him the carefully thought out explanation as to my whereabouts, but he cuts me off before I have a chance. “I’m only joking, sweetness. Word is, he left with some chick a while ago.�
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My stomach sours, but I work to keep my features schooled as Aidan turns his attention back to his friends and starts introductions.
Feeling numb, I play my part and politely greet all five boys. They’re all attractive, each vastly different than the next, distinctive skin tones, eyes, and hair. It’s like the boy version of a box of chocolates.
“How’d you end up with the prettiest girl here?” Cooper teases.
The host of the party is the most unique of the bunch, with his curly red hair and piercing blue eyes. It certainly explains how he got his nickname, Copper.
Six sets of eyes study me with a hungry appreciation as my face heats. My gaze falls to my feet as I shift uncomfortably.
“What can I say? I’m a lucky son of a bitch,” Aidan answers huskily, giving my hand a squeeze.
Knots form in my gut as I lift my eyes to meet his. Aidan doesn’t deserve to be treated the way I’ve treated him. I need to break things off, to come clean.
I need…a drink.
“I still haven’t had a drink. I think I’ll go grab one.”
“Here, you can have some of mine,” he offers me the plastic cup in his other hand, and I eagerly accept it. “Just be…” his words trail off as I down the contents of the cup, the unexpected burn of liquor almost causing me to choke.
“Fuck!” I croak, shivering as the whiskey heats my blood stream. “That wasn’t beer.”
All the boys crowded around me laugh and cheer as Aidan pulls me close again. “Damn, sweetness. That was badass and totally hot.”
I give Aidan a playful smile before licking the remaining taste of whiskey from my lips. He releases my hand, taking me by the waist as he brings our bodies together. The liquor must already be clouding my mind because that voice telling me I should remove myself from this situation is faint, the unease in my body now lax, even as his lips begin their descent toward mine.
“Whoa there, Saint.” Cole grabs me by the shoulders, ripping me from Aidan’s hold.
I sway on my feet as I try to steady myself, my brow furrowed as I look from Aidan to Cole. Aidan’s angry glower is focused on Cole, but the disappointment in Cole’s is directed at me. Bile rises in my throat at the realization of what I’d almost let happen. I was about to let a boy I don’t even like kiss me not even an hour after making out and dry humping the boy I shouldn’t like.
“What the hell, man?” Aidan gripes.
“Sorry about that, Shaw.” The smirk on Cole’s face as his eyes slide to Aidan says he’s not sorry in the least. “There’s someone I want Violet to meet. Excuse us for a moment.”
Cole wraps his arm around my shoulder, steering me away from Aidan toward the side of the house before either of us can protest. Not that I would. I’m grateful for the interruption. Aidan doesn’t look happy as I glance back at him over my shoulder and give him an apologetic smile. Oh well, maybe he’ll get mad enough to cut things off with me and I won’t have to do it.
The music from the party becomes nothing more than thumps of bass as we trek through the perfectly manicured grass until it’s only the two of us. I’m surprised how safe I feel with Cole. Even as darkness surrounds us, nothing more than the moon and stars in the night sky to provide light, knowing no one would be able to hear us out here.
Cole comes to a stop, letting out an frustrated breath as he removes his arm. Unease begins to worm its way through my muscles when he doesn’t meet my gaze. He runs a hand through his sandy blond locks while the other digs into his back pocket. My cheeks heat with embarrassment when he produces my phone, his eyes still avoiding mine as I pluck it from his hold, then slip it back into my purse.
I hadn’t even realized Thatcher still had my phone. The very reason I’d followed him into that room in the first place. Well, okay…that’s not entirely true. Thatcher may have admitted to orchestrating opportunities for us to be alone, but I wanted it too.
Of course, he had merely confessed his desire to offer it as further proof he’s bad for me. Being desperate to touch me is apparently wrong. Though he seemed to think it was perfectly acceptable to do God only knows what with whoever he left the party with.
“What the heck was that back there?” Cole points in the direction we came from a few seconds ago, his eyes filled with worry as they connect with mine. “Are you trying to get me killed?”
I frown at his reprimanding tone, then laugh. Maybe it’s the booze, but carefree Cole trying to be authoritative is hilarious.
“Killed?” I gasp, working to calm my laughter. “What are you talking about?”
Cole crosses his arms, feigning annoyance, though the twitch of his lips gives him away. “That’s what Thatcher will do to me if he finds out you were drinking, and the douchebag touched you on my watch.”
The smile falls from my face. “Thatcher? What the hell does he care? Isn’t he off screwing some random girl right now?”
“Christ.” He sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. “Is that why you were going to let that asshole kiss you? Come on, Saint. You’re smarter than that. I swear, you and Thatcher are both acting like idiots. You’re driving me insane.”
I grind my teeth, the sting of his words causing my eyes to water. “The only asshole I let kiss me tonight left with some other girl shortly after. So, I guess you’re right. I am an idiot.”
His shoulders slump, guilt engraved in his features as though he was personally responsible for Thatcher’s poor behavior.
“Damn it, Thatch,” he hisses. “It’s not what you think, I swear.”
“Yeah, right,” I sneer. “Like you said, I’m smarter than that. It’s exactly what I think. The only thing I can’t seem to figure out is why.”
“What do you mean?”
“If he doesn’t want me in his world…” my voice is mocking as my fingers make air quotes, “then why does he care who I do or do not kiss? Why have you been watching me and pretending to like me?”
“Now, hang on a damn minute.” Cole places his hands on my shoulders, leaning down until we’re eye to eye. “First…I’m not Thatcher’s fucking puppet, Saint. Sure, I have his back because he’s my best friend, but I do have a mind of my own. And second…I’m not pretending to like you. You’re fun and kind. Hell, I thought we were friends, or, at the very least, heading in that direction.”
“You did?” He nods, and my chin trembles as I fight to hold back my emotions, the liquor humming in my veins doing nothing to help the cause. “I’m sorry, Cole. I didn’t mean…I want us to be friends. That asshole is screwing with my head.”
He chuckles, wiping away the stray tear I shed without realizing it before pulling me into a hug. “Yeah, he’s a prick. But I’m not watching you for him. I’m watching out for you. Plain and simple.”
“Jesus, Cole. Why the hell do you have the poor girl out here in the damn dark?” someone teases from behind me.
Cole winks at me with a playful grin as I pull out of his hold and turn around. I recognize the girl as Arwen Sullyvan right away, her insane beauty obvious even in the dim light.
Hair dark, thick, and unruly in a way that screams sex. Lips that even Angelina Jolie would be envious of. And a body that looks as if it were fashioned after a chick in a video game, with her long legs and big breasts.
“We’ve been waiting on your dumbass.” Cole saunters over to Arwen and wraps her into a brotherly hug, noogie and all. “Took you long enough, Ari.”
“Screw you,” she huffs, pushing him away. “I have a life, you know. The two of you need to stop thinking I should be available for your every beck and call.”
“Please. We’re the most important people in your life. And we both know the real reason you didn’t come to this party.”
She flips him off before turning her attention to me. “You ready to go, darlin’?”
“Me?” I squeak. My brows bunch as I look between Cole and Arwen. “I don’t—what?”
Cole sucks in a breath through his teeth, regarding me with apologetic eyes. �
�Shit, sorry. I didn’t get the chance to—”
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Arwen throws her hands up in the air, allowing them to fall back down with a thud. “You mean you called me out here to take her home without her knowledge? That is a new level of screwed up for both of you.”
“Take me home? What the hell, Cole?” He winces as I shout, cowering a little as I step up to him in anger. “You said you weren’t doing Thatcher’s bidding. I already told him, and now I’m telling you, I’m not leaving.”
I turn on my heel, attempting to head back to the party. Cole grabs my hand, twirling me so I’m facing him again before bringing it to his chest. “Hold on, give me a second.”
The pleading in his eyes causes my temper to cool, and I lift my eyebrows telling him to continue.
“We agreed we’re friends, right? So, will you please trust me on this? Aidan has been drinking, I can’t let him drive you home. And do you even want to go back to the circle jerk of jocks I dragged you away from?”
He smirks when I remain silent, my lips pressing into a hard line. As much as I hate to admit it, and as much as it pains me knowing Thatcher will be getting his way, Cole is right.
“That’s what I thought. Since I’ve also been drinking, I called Arwen and asked her to come give you a ride home. Which she was more than happy to do. Right, Ari?”
“I’m fucking thrilled,” she deadpans.
Cole laughs. “See? Now, will you please let her take you home?”
The battle is already lost. I jerk out of his hold and stomp off toward the front of the house without a response, muttering to myself about being treated like a child as Cole calls out his goodbye.
Chapter Fifteen
VIOLET
I’m in awe as I sit in the passenger seat of Arwen’s cobalt blue convertible Pontiac GTO, “Seven Devils” by Florence + The Machine filling the silence. If I didn’t already have a serious girl crush on her, I would now. She must be every guy’s wet dream, looking the way she does and driving a freaking classic muscle car. I don’t see how Thatcher couldn’t be attracted to her. And if they had hooked up—or were hooking up—I can’t imagine him having any interest in me.
When the Saint Falls: a high school bully romance (Westbrook three Book 1) Page 7