“He did the same to her.” I clamp my lips shut. Why the hell did I say that? Violet had been visibly upset and angry when I found them arguing. Hell, he was touching her, and the wave of fury that bled through me made me want to fuck him up. As in make him bleed. I could have taken him. Easily. He’s a wimpy, pampered asshole and I’m a former street kid–slash–drug addict.
I’m just real good at pretending to be a pampered asshole like Lawrence.
After getting rid of him, I tried to calm Violet down, but she was pissed. More at Lawrence, I’m sure, but she took it out on me. Hell, seeing her so worked up had aroused me, sick fuck that I am. I’d been ready to take her right there, not giving a damn who saw us together. But when she asked me to stop, that was it. I had to walk away.
No way could she ever accuse me of pushing myself on her. In this weird little game I’m playing, she calls all the shots—at least when it comes to if and when we have sex.
Hell, if we’ll ever have sex. One taste and I crave her like an addict. Not good.
“So protective,” Pilar murmurs, her lips curving into a knowing smile. “Just fuck her and get it over with. Once you realize what a horrible lay she is, then you’ll be done with her.”
Anger makes my voice tight. “What? You have personal experience in fucking Violet?”
Pilar laughs so loud she draws the attention of more than a few guests at the party. “Please. Like the little prude would swing that way.”
That’s it. I’m done standing around pretending I want to listen to Pilar go on about Violet. I don’t even want to be at this stupid party full of wedding dresses and greedy brides-to-be. I only came here to see Violet.
And she’s pissed at me. So I blew that all to hell.
“Quit insulting her,” I toss over my shoulder as I make my escape, pushing my way through the crowd. It’s mostly full of young, beautiful women tonight and normally, I’d be in heaven. Flirting my way through all of them, zeroing in on the most responsive—and receptive—one.
Not tonight, though. I don’t notice any of them, even when they flash me flirtatious looks and welcoming smiles. I’m intent on finding Violet so I can talk to her again. Look at her. Smell her.
Touch her.
I spot her quickly, standing with her older sister, Lily, the two of them in what looks like an intense conversation. They’re standing close, their heads bent toward each other, Violet listening while Lily does all the talking, gesturing wide with her arms. Violet just nods, staring at the ground, looking sad.
I hate seeing her like that. But even in her sadness, she’s beautiful. I know everyone says Lily is the prettiest Fowler sister. The sexiest.
But I disagree. I only have eyes for Violet.
Suddenly she looks up, as if she can feel me staring at her. Her gaze locks with mine, those dark, dark eyes looking right through me. Lily’s still talking and Violet reaches out, resting her hand on her sister’s forearm. She never takes her eyes off me as she speaks, then Lily turns, looking at me as well.
I don’t move. I don’t look away, even when I start to feel uncomfortable at being under the scrutiny of two Fowler sisters.
And then she’s walking toward me. The sister I want. The sister I can’t seem to get enough of. She stops just in front of me and tilts her head back, steely determination in every move she makes.
“I took out my anger at Zachary on you and I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry.”
I slip my hands into my pockets so I won’t reach for her and pull her to me. The urge to shove my fingers into her hair and ruin that perfect updo she’s got going on nearly overwhelms me. “You’re forgiven.”
A smile plays at the corners of her pretty pink lips. “I didn’t mean it when I said I wanted you to stop.”
I clench my hands into fists, still keeping them in my pockets. “What did you mean, then?”
“I don’t know.” She shrugs. “This entire … situation confuses me.”
That makes two of us.
“It scares me, too,” she admits softly.
Ah hell. She talks like that, looks like that, and all I want to do is reassure her that everything’s going to be just fine. Even if I don’t believe it.
Because I don’t. Saying that to her would be a lie. I have no idea what’s going to happen.
“Come with me,” I say.
“I can’t just leave.”
“Yeah, you can.” I reach out and place my hand on her arm, but she jerks out of my touch. “Come on, Violet.”
She frowns. “Where are we going?”
I shake my head, irritated with her, my reaction to her, all of it. This was supposed to be easy, taking advantage of Violet. Instead, it’s turning into something far more complex than I thought. “Don’t ask questions.”
“Don’t boss me around.” She crosses her arms in front of her chest, plumping her breasts. They look ready to pop out of that low-cut dress she’s wearing and I step closer, shielding her from anyone else’s view.
“I thought you liked it when I bossed you around,” I murmur, drawing my finger along her exposed collarbone.
She swats my hand away. “Don’t say things like that. Not here.”
“Right. That’s why you need to come with me.” I touch her again, tracing the bodice of her dress, my finger dipping low, lower, almost touching her breasts. She goes completely still and I lift my gaze to hers. “I won’t take up too much of your time.” I don’t bother hiding my snide tone. I’m frustrated and I don’t care who knows it, least of all Violet.