silk . . . or just toned ass.
Before I get too carried away, the music stops and Violet does too, her eyes a little confused at the interruption. She tries to step away, and I hold her close for a half second, getting one last feel of her against my cock. When I let her go, she stumbles in her heels slightly and I have to steady her.
Damn, she’s plastered. How many drinks did she put down before she started telling me about Colin and his bullshit?
“Ross,” Abi says from next to me, her right eyebrow lifted about three-quarters of the way up her forehead. Fuck, she’s been watching, and by the little upturn on the corners of her lips, she’s happy with what she’s seen, for some reason.
I love my little sister, but damn if she doesn’t gloat when one of her schemes goes off without a hitch. I guess she figures her little plan to solve both of our problems is already a success.
“I’m gonna take Violet home,” I declare, taking Violet by the hand. “Come on, Vi. I think you’ve had enough.”
“Drinks!” Violet yells, giggling. “Mimosas for everyone! I’m getting married!”
Vi pats my chest a bit too hard, and a group of girls on the dance floor drunkenly slurs out, “Con-grash-u-lashuns!” Well, I guess that’s that. We’re public.
I sigh as Abi grins hugely, waving her off and dragging Violet to the door. I grab a taxi and out of habit tell the driver to take me back to my place.
It’s not a long ride, and Violet’s still as bubbly as the champagne she’s been drinking when we get there. I lead her out and to the elevator. Violet gapes as the doors close, giggling again as she eyes me with a girlish smile. “What?” I ask, curious about what has her acting so silly.
She pushes her body against me. “Are you taking me to the penthouse?” Her voice lowers, like there’s a deeper meaning, but my brain’s too fuzzy from her closeness to figure out what she means.
I nod, trying to resist the luscious plumpness of her glossy lips, but when she stands up on her tiptoes to reach toward me, I can’t hold back anymore. I crush her to me, kissing her hard as the elevator quietly hums its way up the twenty-seven floors.
Vi’s lips are silk, warm and tender, electric in every touch against me. I press for entrance with my tongue, and she opens up, as much taking me in as I am invading her mouth. She moans against me and I swallow the sexy sound.
As the elevator door opens and we half twirl, half stumble our way to the door of my penthouse, all I know is I want her and she wants me.
Reality hits, though, when Violet stumbles on the single step that leads down to my living room area, and I remember that she’s drunk. I’m tipsy, for sure, but she’s drunk-drunk . . . and I’m not going to take advantage. Certainly not of Violet.
“Where are you taking me?” Violet says as I help her up and lead her to my bedroom. “Ooh . . . I’ve wanted to see this for awhile.” Her eyes are glassy as they bounce around the room, and I wonder what she thinks of my space. Does she think it suits me? Does she like the décor?
“I’m sure you have. Probably want to tell me that the color’s atrocious or the Feng Shui is all wrong,” I tell her, holding myself back as I pull the comforter and sheets down. “Need help with the heels?”
Violet shakes her head, which seems to disorient her because she tumbles down to the mattress before rolling onto her back. She sticks her long legs up straight in the air and giggles as she pushes off one of her heels with her toes. It falls to the bed and bounces off, hitting the floor. “Boom . . . missile launched. Preparing missile two, Captain.” She repeats the move, her other shoe clattering to the floor.
Violet is definitely a happy drunk, looser and less biting than her usual self. I wonder if this is how she is with people other than me.
Her legs flail, bending and opening, which gives me an unexpectedly spectacular view.
Holy shit, she went commando tonight. Beneath the short hem of her dress is nothing but the same soft caramel skin of her honeyed thighs, leading up to a cleft that has my cock leaking precum into