Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 60482 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 302(@200wpm)___ 242(@250wpm)___ 202(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60482 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 302(@200wpm)___ 242(@250wpm)___ 202(@300wpm)
"We'll continue this Monday," he finally rasps, ending the call just as a groan escapes him. "Violet," he breathes, both warning and worship in my name as he surrenders completely.
He finds his release, his body shuddering as he cums in my mouth.
I take it all, my skin prickling with the thrill of it all.
When I’m done, I look up at him through my lashes, smiling.
“You bad, bad girl,” he growls. “You’ll be the death of me.”
I get to my feet, straightening my skirt. “Maybe that’s the entire point.”
He laughs. “Come on, there is more I want to show you.”
And I am more than happy to oblige.
It might be dangerous, risky even, but this is the happiest I have felt in so long, I’m afraid it might just be real.
7
LIGHTNING RIPS THROUGH the sky, and everything inside me freezes—my heart seizes, my lungs lock, my limbs go limp. I can’t scream; I can’t move. It’s as if the bolt reached in and cut every wire in my body. Memories of Lillian—her laughing face, her bright hair—lash through my mind, and I’m a prisoner of terror. No matter how many years pass, nothing changes.
It takes me a minute to gather myself, to get out of my car, to pull myself together. I do, just barely. Then, I slip into Chief’s compound and see Travis right away, leaning against a railing in the yard. He catches my eye, offers that award-winning grin, and I can’t help but return it. Chief is sitting in a lawn chair with Jaq straddling his lap, her lipstick-slick mouth grazing his neck.
I scowl. “Ugh, get a room.”
Chief lifts his head, flashing that patented dazzling smile. “Sorry, baby.”
I walk over, leaning down and hugging him, purposefully shoving Jaq out of the way as I do. She mutters something, which only makes me grin.
“Hi, Daddy,” I say before pulling back.
“Always good to see you, darlin’. How are you?”
“I’m okay,” I force a smile and meet his eyes.
He knows what this weather does to me, but he’ll never say anything in front of people.
He turns to Travis and changes the subject. “Phoenix, where’s your usual lineup of beauties?”
“Taking the night off,” Travis says, raising his hands. “A man’s gotta breathe.”
“Rena,” Chief calls. “Show our boy a good time. He’s losing his touch.”
Rena, one of the clubs sweetbutts, sashays over in impossibly high heels. Travis straightens and puts a hand up, stopping her. “Not tonight.”
Rena pouts.
“You good, brother?” Chief asks.
Travis nods, raising his beer. “I’m good.”
Chief ushers Jaq off his lap and pats the empty seat next to him. “So, Mischief, what’s new?”
“Nothing much,” I say, sinking into the plastic chair and cracking open a beer. “Work’s busy.”
A crack of lightning—sharp, deafening—splinters the night. It is so close it catches me off guard, the sheer sound of it is enough to bring me to my knees. My beer bottle slips from my fingers, shatters on the ground beneath me. I can’t breathe. Chief is on his feet in a heartbeat, pulling me to my feet. He has experienced the worst of my trauma, and he knows what it does to me.
“Inside, baby,” he murmurs, curling an arm around me and leading me in through the side door.
I stay like a statue, vision flooded by Lillian’s face, until another thunderclap shakes the house.
Chief whispers over and over, “It’s not your fault. It’s over now.”
He takes me to my room, where it’s darker, safer, and we sit on the side of the bed. I drop my head, tears falling down my cheeks and onto the floor.
“It wasn’t your fault, baby,” Chief murmurs. “You know it wasn’t.”
It doesn’t matter what he says.
I’ll never believe it.
“I need to be alone,” I say, softly, as soft as my voice will allow.
Chief pulls me closer, his lips finding my temple. “I love you, baby. You’re good.”
Then, he leaves.
I sit on the side of the bed for a while, how long, I don’t know. Eventually, the door swings open and Travis slips in, silent as a shadow. He kneels in front of me, his face twisted with confusion. He doesn’t understand what happened out there, why would he?
“Tell me what the fuck that was, Violet?”
“I can’t,” I whisper. “Just...I don’t want to think about it anymore. Make it go away, Travis.”
He leans up and presses his lips to mine, gentle at first, then insistent, hungry. My fear bleeds into something else entirely—relief, desire, a desperate need to be consumed by something other than memories. Before either of us can think better of it, we’re both on the bed, stripping off clothes with urgent hands, breath ragged, fingers trembling against buttons and zippers. The cool air against my bare skin makes me shiver, but Travis's hands are warm, so warm they seem to burn away every dark thought.
Travis's mouth is everywhere, on my collarbone, tracing the hollow of my throat, along the curve of my ribs, down to the sensitive skin of my hip, igniting nerves I didn't know were starved for touch. Each press of his lips feels like salvation, like he's marking me as something precious rather than broken. I slide my fingers through his hair, pull him closer, needing more of this exquisite distraction. His body presses into mine with a firm promise; it's not my first time, but it feels like I've never known pleasure this fierce, this consuming.