Page 39 of Whips and Chains
I blinked at the door slamming behind him.
And then did the stupidest thing I could have possibly imagined.
I went after him.
11
VIOLET
Iopened my mouth to scream in the man’s face.
Only to realize it was X’s brown eyes I was staring into.
The scream disappeared instantly, the fear replaced by relief it was him and not someone I needed to be afraid of.
Before I knew what I was doing, I had my arms around his neck and my lips against his. I fell into his warm arms, pressed myself against the strength of his chest, and let myself be devoured by the safety he represented in my terrified brain.
Except he didn’t kiss me back.
He pulled back, his brows drawn together in confusion. “Violet?”
I just needed him to kiss me. I tried again, forcing my lips to his, but he backed off once more. “Hang on. Something’s wrong. Talk to me.”
Hot embarrassment slammed through me, and I jerked away from him. It wasn’t a good combination, mixing with the fear and grief. All of it was too much. And the last thing I wanted to do was admit to him I was so damn weak I couldn’t take care of myself. That I was now scared of every man. Of every shadow.
That I was so jumpy I’d thought I was being kidnapped when a simple look at a map would have told me my fears were running off with my brain and I was actually perfectly safe.
I didn’t feel safe. It felt like danger lurked everywhere I went, and I could no longer trust anyone.
Except him.
But now I was throwing myself at him like a desperate maiden, and I couldn’t take the embarrassment of yet another rejection. I spun on my heel, storming away, out of the alley and toward the lineup of people waiting to get inside Psychos.
“Violet.”
I kept going. I just had to get inside, and then I could lose him in the crowd. Or at least pretend I was working. The club probably actually wasn’t big enough to lose anyone, especially not someone like X, who seemed to have the nose of a bloodhound when it came to tracking me down.
“Violet.”
I kept going.
“Dammit, Violet!”
He grabbed my wrist, spinning me around so we were face-to-face.
I glared up at him, my fear and embarrassment turning into anger because the alternative was tears, and I had too much pride for that.
His mouth slammed down on mine.
For a long moment I didn’t move. It took that long to register he was kissing me.
But once my body realized what was going on, there was no stopping it.
I wrapped my arms around his neck again, drawing him close. He deepened the kiss, slanting his head, his lips soft but demanding, his tongue licking his way into my mouth.
I moaned unashamedly as he pushed me up against the wall of the club, his big body crushing mine onto the bricks. Every inch of him was hard, from his leanly muscled arms to his abs, to his dick, instantly alert and nudging into the softness of my lower belly.
He brought one hand up to the side of my face, cupping me there, holding me in place, while the other caged me in, palm pressed to the wall.
