Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 128356 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 642(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128356 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 642(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
“You’ll do as you’re told.” The low growl of his voice makes me shudder.
I glare at him. “Get a pet for that.”
“I have you, so why bother?”
“Just get out of my life, Jude! You don’t get to invade my space, then disappear and reappear as you wish. Just let me fucking be!”
“We’re making progress if I’m disturbing you to the point that you’re yelling.” He rubs his knee against my pants and I purse my lips, fighting, trying my best not to succumb to these strange feelings.
I know he can feel how hot I am, even though clothes separate our skin.
And I don’t want to give him the pleasure of seeing me like this.
But as the pressure mounts, my hips jerk uncontrollably, stirring a type of abandon I didn’t know sex offered.
My feelings and perception of sex are skewed. Maybe because I witnessed it my whole childhood in a negative light, where men used a woman, not caring how she felt. Or because it was transactional. Or because the men I’ve had sex with have never made me feel worshiped.
But, at any rate, my first real pleasure was on that kitchen counter, and my body’s felt awakened ever since, thirsting for…more.
After that time, darker fantasies I used to repress invaded my dreams and in all of them, there were these dark-brown eyes. I wanted to write about them so bad, but knowing Jude would find my most embarrassing thoughts and moments, I just kept them in my subconscious.
My dreams.
But it doesn’t help when he corners me—it triggers those illicit fantasies.
The need for something.
Anything.
Jude lowers his mouth so that his hot breaths skim my ear. “Here’s how it’ll go, Violet. You go back to your sorry excuse for a date, thank him for his time, and fuck off home.”
“You don’t tell me what to do,” I snap.
“Yes, I do.”
“No, you don’t.”
“Do as you’re told. Don’t make me intervene.”
And then he pulls away, releasing me completely and vanishing as silently as he appeared.
I slide down to the floor, my knees shaking and my heart nearly lunging into my throat, and my pussy still throbs with an unsatisfied ache.
My limbs barely hold me, but I stand up with a renewed sense of rebellion.
I was losing interest in Toby earlier, but I’ve found it now.
Screw Jude Callahan.
On a cactus.
Until he bleeds out.
Amen.
15
JUDE
Violet leaves the restaurant.
With the curly-haired asshole.
Contrary to what I told her.
My fist clenches and unclenches as I follow behind, leaving a safe distance between us as they talk.
And laugh.
And Violet trips slightly and falls against his side.
Is she…fucking flirting?
So not only did she meet some nobody for dinner and then let him help her put on her jacket as if she’s a goddamn toddler who can’t perform the task on her own, but she’s also throwing herself at him?
I have to calm the fuck down before I bash his face against the concrete.
Just kidding. I’ll still do that, but there are a lot of pesky people around that would hinder that plan.
The guy slides an arm—that will be broken—around her shoulder to steady her. She smiles at him.
She fucking smiles, her eyes closing a bit as she looks at him.
I was so sure she was uncomfortable with being touched by a man. She fucking flinches whenever a customer touches her, and she did with me as well.
Not when she was coming all over my mouth, though. No, she was riding my face then.
But why the fuck is she touching the motherfucker?
He put something in her drink, didn’t he?
That’s the only explanation.
Or maybe she’s more comfortable with him than she is with you.
I ignore that small voice that should be fucking gagged.
There’s no way in hell she’s fucking that guy tonight. Call it absurd or illogical or fucking territorial, but Violet’s off-limits to all other men.
She’s mine until I slice her goddamn throat open.
And I’m done watching from the shadows.
I stride at a fast pace and step in front of them. They come to an abrupt halt. Blondie’s eyes widen, and Violet purses her lips even as she touches the tattoo on her wrist.
I’ve put her on edge. Good. She should never—and I mean never—feel safe around me.
She opens her mouth, but I speak first, in my most cordial tone. “There you are, sweetheart. I’ve been looking for you.”
Her lips part, but before she can react, I pull her arm from his grip. She loses her balance and crashes against my chest.
I have to stop myself from closing my eyes and inhaling her deeply.
Like a fucking drug.
She smells like soft roses and bergamot—a breeze of calm amid maddening chaos.
And she shouldn’t be what defines calm when she’s part of the reason behind the fucking chaos.
My hand stretches across her lower back, and she vibrates against me, a blush creeping up her cheeks.
That wasn’t there in her feeble attempts to flirt with Blondie.