Page 54 of A Photo Finish
“On all fours. Let me see that tight ass.” I watch her raptly. So eager to please. “Good. Now look over your shoulder at me.”
“Fuck me. You are incredible.” I say it, and I mean it. Wide blue eyes, slightly parted lips, hair plastered against her cheek, and that perfect round ass. It’s almost more than I can take.
I have so much planned. So many positions to put her in. So much pleasure to give her—as much as I can without sacrificing myself. Tonight, I’m going to see every square inch of Pretty_in_Purple’s tight little body.
What I don’t realize is . . . I’ll never get over it.
* * *
Violet isn’tat the house. Her car isn’t here. All her stuff is gone. I can tell because usually it’s all the fuck over the place, and now it’s mysteriously not. I even poked my head into her room, and it looks like it did the day I moved in. The only thing of hers that’s left is Pipsqueak, who still whinnies loud enough to hurt my ears every time she sees me.
I started out worried when I couldn’t find her. I spent all day at work beating myself up for being an overbearing asshole last night. I couldn’t help it. The thought of her falling off and getting hurt had me tied up in knots. I know how wrong that can go because I’ve seen it firsthand.
But now, this? It feels even worse. I hadn’t wanted Violet living in my space. I was annoyed, and it had nothing to do with her and everything to do with the level of privacy I like. I’ve grown accustomed to having her around in the last month, though. From the smell of the coffee she makes every morning, to the quiet murmur of her voice when she calls home every few nights, to the random shit she leaves all over the place.
I think I’ve actually started tolikeit. To crave it. To look forward to it. And now I’ve gone and been such a dick she packed up and left without saying a thing. Again.Not that she owed me an explanation. Her leg is better—why would she stay anyway? I’m terrible company, and I know it. And once people get to know me, they rarely stick around. Why would Violet be any different?
I’ve done nothing to endear myself to her. Quite the opposite, in fact. I’ve acted like a total jackoff and mauled her a couple of times when I couldn’t help myself. And then I turned and walked away like the fucking coward I’ve become. That day on the floor, she basically told me shewantedme to touch her. Her blue eyes all soft and alluring. Her soft lips parted, just begging to be kissed.
I wanted her, and she wanted me, and somehow, I still couldn’t figure it out.
March into enemy territory? No problem. Face the girl you haven’t been able to stop thinking about for two years? No fucking chance.
I am such a pussy.
My fingers dance across the phone in my pocket, itching to call Trixie and ask her what I should do. But I know what she’ll tell me. She’ll tell me to stop being such a baby and to use my words. Okay, maybe not so colorfully, but still. Trixie is over my mopey self-hatred. I can tell because she recently started pushing me a little harder. Cutting into my streams of consciousness with those annoying rhetorical questions that make me reflect on myself.
I hate those fucking questions. I hate how fucking wrecked I am right now over her leaving. And I hate I’m grabbing my keys to march back out the door and confront her about it.
I pull up to the barn, park beside her death trap of a car—one more thing for me to worry about concerning Violet Eaton—and get out of my truck. I march up the stairs to her apartment and knock loudly, probably a little too aggressively.
“Coming!” I hear her call from the other side of the door as I look out over the horizon. The low sun casts a golden glow over the farm. With all the white fences and rolling hills, it’s kind of beautiful.
I shake my head. The water out here really must be poisoned.Beautiful.I almost roll my eyes, but the door opens and instead they bug out of my head as I stare back at Violet in tiny cotton short shorts rolled down at the waist and a white ribbed tank top with no bra.
“Did you change your mind . . .” She stops talking when she realizes it’s me and not whoever she was expecting. “Oh. Hey. I thought it was Billie.”
“Hey,” I reply, like me showing up on her doorstep is perfectly normal. Except I can’t tear my eyes away from her body, from where her nipples have gone instantly hard underneath her tank top. Just like that morning on the living room floor. The sight of them poking through her sports bra sent me over the edge. As if I hadn’t been struggling hard enough to keep my instant hard-on at bay every time we worked out, every time I touched her to correct her position or give her a little support. I’d worked out with women in the military. And it had always been just that—working out. Helping a fellow soldier.
But Violet is not a fellow soldier. I don’t know what she is anymore, other than firmly entrenched in my life and in my mind.
She must notice my gaze because she looks down quickly, squeaks, flushes pink, and then hides behind the door before narrowing her eyes at me. “What do you want, Cole?”
“You moved.”
“Yup. My leg is better. So . . .”
I blurt out the part that’s really bugging me. “You didn’t tell me.”
Her head quirks slightly as she grips the door in front of her like it’s a shield. “Didn’t know I needed your permission.”
“You don’t. I just . . .” I groan and run a hand through my hair, lost for the right words. I just what?I want her to come back.“I was worried. I didn’t know you’d left or where you were.” I cross my arms and look down at her. “I was worried. And you left your horse behind.”
I watch her face soften as her eyes scan me, framed by the pale blonde waves that spill down over her shoulders. The golden sunlight tints her eyes more of a turquoise color tonight; they’re a like a mood ring—constantly changing.
“Okay.” She nods. “That’s fair. I’m sorry I didn’t say anything. Friends don’t do that to each other.”
Friends?After I sucked my way up her chest and came close to totally losing control and fucking her bare on the living room floor, she’s referring to us asfriends?
