Sweet Venom by Rina Kent - 15

15

V iolet 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.

Serves him right for coveting what belongs to me.

“Vee?” he asks like a goddamn idiot, staring at us with eyes so wide, they’d be comical under different circumstances.

She snaps out of it. Her body that was soft and pliant in my hold stiffens, her small hands fisting against my chest.

Violet tries to push me away as if that were even possible.

I lean down, speaking so low, so close to her ear that only she can hear me. “One wrong move, and I’ll slice his throat open and fuck you in his goddamn blood.”

Her eyes widen as I push back, her entire body going into shock.

Blondie doesn’t step forward, just watches from a distance, like when I snatched her away from him. He doesn’t attempt to protect her or take her back.

And this is her type? Like fuck he is.

“Who are you to Vee…?”

“Violet.” I maneuver her to my side, my arm still on her lower back. “Her name is Violet. And she’s mine; that’s all you need to know.”

I can feel her rigidity, but she won’t fight it. She’s that responsible and annoyingly cares about others, so she won’t let herself be the reason for her little friend’s death.

Though I wouldn’t really kill him and just said that to keep her in line.

I’d still break his arm, though.

“Uh…” He rubs his nape, staring at the ground and then back at Violet. “You didn’t mention you were going out with the Jude Callahan.”

He knows who I am.

Even better .

“We’re not going out…” She trails off when I tighten my grip on her waist, then sighs. “It’s complicated.”

“Oh, okay.” He gives a small pout like a fucking child whose candy has been taken away, not even mad that his fuck mission for the night was aborted.

“I’m sorry, Toby.” She tries to release herself from my grip to no avail. “You’re a great guy. I don’t want to put you in this mess.”

Great guy?

Great fucking guy?

What bad taste in men.

“Nah, that’s fine. You’re kind of out of my league anyway. But…” He rubs his nape again. “Can I have your autograph, Callahan? I’m a huge fan. My friends will be mad jealous.”

Violet goes lax in my grip, not even attempting to hide the look of disappointment on her face.

Her type was so ready to throw her away for an autograph.

I’m suppressing a smile as I nod. There’s no pen or paper around, so Tobias—that’s his name—asks Violet for her lipstick and tells me to sign the tank top beneath his shirt.

He barely even looks at her as he turns around and leaves with a bit of a spring in his step.

I mean, he should be happy, considering he left with an autograph instead of a broken arm.

Violet has already stepped away from me, clutching her wrist. No, the tattoo on her wrist.

The one that she uses to calm down or pull herself from whatever ledge her brain pushes her toward.

I roll the lipstick tube in my hand. “Want an autograph as well? Maybe somewhere bolder? Your tits, maybe.”

She takes it from my grip and slides it into her bag. “No, thanks. I’m not a fan. ”

My jaw clenches. “You seem to be Davenport’s fan, considering how you praise his play style more than the tabloid hacks paid by his dad.”

She’s still staring down, fiddling with the zipper of her bag, her hair that looks prettier than usual flying in the wind. “That’s because he doesn’t get high on violence, unlike a certain someone⁠—”

I’m in her space now, which is why she jerks her head up so fast and cuts her words off. “So your type is nonviolent people like Tobias, who wouldn’t even lift a finger if you were in danger.”

She swallows but keeps her chin up. “You don’t know that. People act unpredictably when faced with danger.”

“Or maybe it’s their true nature that shows. Here’s the thing, Violet.” I step closer and she stumbles in her attempts to escape me, but I wrap my arm around her waist, trapping her against my chest. “I don’t give a fuck who your type is. From now on, I’m your only type.”

She releases a long exhale. “Why are you doing this, Jude? Because you can? Because messing with an insignificant person’s life brings you so much joy?”

“It does.”

“You know what I think? I think you’re only holding on to the remnants of your rage because without vengeance and killing and unleashing your monster side on others, you’d have to face the hollow emptiness lurking inside you.” She taps my chest with her finger. “Right here.”

I grab her hand and twist it away. “You’re into psychoanalyzing now? Shouldn’t you have used these abilities on your clusterfuck of a fragile mental state and mommy issues?”

“We both have mommy issues, it seems. ”

“One big difference. I wouldn’t kill myself, and my mother loved me, unlike your waste-of-space mom.”

Her lips tremble, and her eyes seem brighter under the glow of the streetlight. “Yes, we are different. Worlds apart, actually. Because I’d never knowingly hurt someone or throw a violent tantrum just because life screwed me over.”

My jaw clenches, and I can feel it aching from how hard I’m grinding my teeth. What is it about this fucking girl that seems to push my fucking buttons?

“And yet you already did.” I speak close to her lips. “Didn’t you?”

“I did not. I’m really sorry about your mom, b-but…what did you expect a civilian like me to do? Run into the knife? Get killed as well?”

“If it would’ve kept her alive, yes.”

“Right.” She laughs, but it sounds heart-wrenching. “Because the lives of people like me mean nothing, so the rich should live while we rot away.”

“It’s not about rich or poor.” I stop myself before I blurt out that it’s about losing the one person who cared about me unconditionally in a heartless world.

Because why the fuck would I need to explain myself to Violet? She’s the one who owes me, not the other way around.

“Then what’s it about?” She’s watching me now, closely, as if trying to sink beneath my skin and latch onto my bones.

“Nothing you should concern yourself with.” I let her go and she steps back. “What you should worry about, however, is how you’ll pay for the stunt you pulled tonight.”

“Why should I pay? You’re the one who ruined my date.”

“I’ll ruin as many dates as you’re foolish enough to have. And you’ll pay for not following simple instructions, Violet. I clearly told you to thank him for the night and leave alone for home. What did you do?”

“I don’t have to listen to this.” Something flashes on her face, something dark and potent, matching the sparks that make my dick twitch on the regular whenever I’m around her.

She must also feel it, this dangerous attraction that shouldn’t exist between predator and prey. This lawless, unhinged need to slam her against the goddamn wall and fuck her.

Because she turns around and walks away, her fingers sinking into her bag’s strap as she quickens her footsteps.

She’s running away. The only thing she knows how to do well.

But I catch up to her and grab her elbow. She gasps as I pull her into an alley that’s far enough away from the main street.

I’m towering over her, again, and she’s pressed up against the wall, again .

Trapped with me.

Her eyes glow in the near darkness as she licks her lips.

My gaze zeroes in on the motion, my cock growing thick and heavy in my jeans. “Are you seducing me, sweetheart?”

“I would never,” she says, but then she’s breathing heavily, and her voice is hoarse.

“But you were seducing Tobias earlier, weren’t you? Falling against him. Giving him a view of these tits.” I grab a handful of her breast, and she presses her lips together as if fighting, struggling to deny what’s happening. “But these are my tits. I saw them first, touched them first, licked your favorite drink from all over your tight, little pink nipples first.”

“S-stop talking like that.”

“Why? Is it making you hot and bothered?” I slide my other hand down her stomach, relishing the tremor that grips her even though I’m touching her through the camisole.

My fingers open the button of her pants.

She doesn’t stop me, but she doesn’t touch me either, her arms motionless on either side of her.

“If I reach inside your panties, will I find you dripping wet for me?”

She turns her face the other way, but I slide my hand from her breast to her jaw and turn it back toward me as I bite her lower lip and then kiss her.

Damn.

God fucking damn it.

I’ve been craving this.

A nip. A lick.

A taste .

The kiss is hot, quick, and absolutely maddening, like everything about her. Violet’s tongue moves against mine tentatively, cautiously, as if she doesn’t want to do this, but, like me, she can’t deny it.

The pull.

The unhinged energy.

I glide my fingers inside her panties, and she jumps, releasing an unintelligible sound into my mouth.

“You are soaking wet, sweetheart.” I pull out my fingers and hold them out in the light so she can see the stickiness. Then I thrust them into her mouth, making her swallow her taste.

Her glasses fog up with her quickening breaths, and she sucks my fingers, her eyes never leaving mine.

“Mmm. I’m going to need your lips around something bigger.”

I pull out my fingers and push her down with a hand on top of her head .

Violet gets to her knees as I unbuckle my belt. She looks at my hand, then back to my face, her breathing shallow and her pupils dilated.

“I really hate you,” she murmurs, almost as if trying to convince herself.

But I’m already pulling out my cock and placing it at her mouth. “Show me how much you hate me, sweetheart.”