I stand up and he offers me a smile as he rejoins me in the living room. “It was good to see you again, Violet.”
My eyes burn with emotions I can’t quite make sense of as I close the distance between us and offer him a hug. When he wraps his strong arms around me, a shiver moves over me. Zander has always felt a little dangerous to me, but in the best way. He’s terrifyingly beautiful, and his presence is a comfort I would indulge for eternity if he’d let me. But all too soon, it’s over when he releases me and I glance up into his eyes.
“It was so good to see you,” I croak.
He nods and turns to go, and I don’t know what comes over me when I reach out and grab his arm. Maybe it’s the wine, or maybe it’s just that I can’t accept this is it. He might walk out of my life and we’ll never talk to each other again.
“Hey, Zander?”
“Yeah?” He quirks a brow at me.
I lean up on my toes and grab his face before I can talk myself out of it. My lips collide with his, soft and warm and so addictive. It lasts for all of about thirty seconds before I realize he’s gone completely rigid, and he isn’t kissing me back.
“Oh my god.” I yank myself away, humiliation burning my flesh as I slap my hands over my face. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know what the hell is wrong with me.”
CHAPTER FIVE
Wednesday
Zander
I’ve wanted to kiss Violet Meadows from the first moment I laid eyes on her.
And now that it’s finally happened all I can feel is…
Confusion.
To say she’s royally fucked up my plan would be putting it mildly.
Or has she?
I wanted her to want me…
No, more than want.
I want her to crave me so much she can’t think straight.
But the only way to do that…is to give her a taste.
A taste that will leave her wanting more.
Pulling her hand away from her face, I finish what she started.
Our kiss is turmoil and passion.
Hate and lust melded into an all-consuming fireball.
Violet kisses me like she’s starving for it and I can’t help but wonder if it’s because no one has ever touched her like this.
I should tell her all the dirty things I want to do to her body, all the ways I plan to worship that sweet pussy of hers, but I’d rather just show her.
Gripping the base of her neck, I utter one simple instruction, “Bend over.”
Shock crosses over her face, and for a moment I think she’s going to utter some bullshit about what a bad idea this is and blame the wine.
But while Violet is a liar...she’s never been a stupid girl.
And she wants this. Hell, her body is practically begging for it.
Her breaths are shaky as she positions herself over the arm of the couch with her plump little ass in the air.
I don’t waste any time tugging her sweatpants down her hips.
“You’re not wearing any panties,” I note, pressing my nose to where she’s slick and warm.
Heat licks over my skin and my balls draw tight as I inhale her heady scent.
“You have such a pretty pussy.”
Perfect actually. She’s bare, wet, and those lips of hers are so plump I could kiss and suck them all night.
I bet she tastes every bit as good as she looks.
Spreading her open with my fingers, I decide to find out.
She jumps and a noise of surprise escapes her the second my tongue comes in contact with her slickness.
Pulling back, I stroke my knuckle along her swollen lips, teasing her. “So sensitive.”
Hand clutching the couch cushion, she whimpers, “Please.”
My voice is low and rough. “Please what?”
I need to hear her acknowledge what we’re doing.
Turning her head over her shoulder, she looks at me down the length of her body. “Please don’t stop, Zander.”
I hum in satisfaction. “Good girl.”
With that, I turn my attention back to her pussy. Feasting on her like a man starved.
And I am.
I’ve had visions of Violet spread out for me like this—at my mercy— since I was sixteen years old.
A groan tears out of her as I suckle her swollen clit.
Fuck. I groan too because she tastes so fucking good I can’t stop myself.
And then there’s nothing but her little whimpers and the wet suck and glide of my mouth pleasuring her.
Reaching down, she grasps the back of my head. “Oh, God.” She shivers. “Oh my fucking God.”
I pump my fingers deep inside her and speed up my suction on her clit.
There’s a sharp intake of breath right before her body breaks out in a fit of jerks and shudders.
I grab her thighs, holding them steady as she writhes against my face and creams my tongue.
Breathless, she sags against the couch. “Jesus.”
Smirking, I stand up.
And then…
I walk the fuck out.
CHAPTER SIX
Thursday
Zander
Past…
“Question ten,” I utter, reading off the piece of paper Mrs. Griffin handed us at the beginning of eighth period. “What do you want to be when you grow up?”
When we first got the assignment I thought it was a joke and a complete waste of time…
Until I got paired with Violet Meadows.
Suddenly the bullshit project requiring us to get to know a fellow classmate before graduation didn’t seem so bad.
Hell, we’ve been so wrapped up in talking to each other, we both decided to stay after class to finish up.
Bringing her pen to her mouth, Violet thinks about this for a moment.
I can’t help but notice she’s done this for the last five questions.
It occurs to me that chewing on her pen is her tell—the thing she does when she’s about to give a response she thinks the other person wants to hear.
Not one she actually feels.
“I’m not sure,” she says. “To tell you the truth, I haven’t really thought about it.”
“Violet.” Placing the paper down, I cut my gaze to hers. “Don’t bullshit me.”
Her mouth parts in surprise. “I’m not.”
After swiping my bookbag off the floor, I head for the door.
Before dying from breast cancer when I was fifteen, my mother used to call me the human lie detector.
She said I could smell a lie formulating in a person’s brain before it was ever uttered.
She wasn’t wrong.
“Baker,” she whispers right before I walk out. “I’ve always wanted to be a baker.”
To say I’m surprised would be an understatement. Not that being a baker isn’t a good profession. It’s just that Violet’s the captain of the cheerleading squad and I’ve never seen those girls eat anything more than salad.
“What’s your favorite thing to bake?”
“Birthday cakes.” Shaking her head, she grins into her hand. “I know, I know. It’s so cheesy. Scott is always making fun of me—”
“Scott’s an asshole,” I bark, returning to the table.