whipped, so much so, that I didn’t bother getting dressed. I dragged my naked ass into my bed and tried to get some sleep, but every time I closed my eyes, I pictured Violet’s. It didn’t take long for me to fantasize about that smart mouth of hers and how perfect it would look wrapped around my cock. Even after rubbing one out, I was still fucking hard and I realized there was no fucking way I was going to be able to adhere to my Uncle’s warning.
How could I cut her loose when I didn’t even have her… yet?
About an hour before our scheduled dinner with Uncle Vic, Joaquin called me to tell me Violet was tagging along to the restaurant. With everything going on, he didn’t feel comfortable leaving her at the penthouse and if I’m being frank, neither did I.
I walk into the restaurant and the hostess informs me that Joaquin and Violet are waiting for me at the bar. As soon as I turn the corner, my eyes scan the room and I immediately spot Violet. It appears that my Bug brought her A-game. Dressed in a skin-tight black dress with a very low-cut back, she’s got the attention of every man in the joint—including mine. I wonder if Uncle Vic would mind much if I skipped dinner and took her into the bathroom for a quick game of show and tell.
Clearing my throat, I ignore the tightness in my pants and step behind Violet as she leans over the bar and orders a drink.
“A dirty martini…extra dirty.”
“Just the way I like things,” I murmur as my eyes leisurely trail up her bare back. Her olive skin calls to every part of my body and I almost trail a finger down her spine, but out of the corner of my eye, I spot Joaquin glaring at me. Feigning indifference, I peel my eyes away from Violet’s silky skin and look to her brother, giving him an innocent shrug. There’s no sense in denying my wandering eye…so long as he doesn’t know the filthy thoughts accompanying it.
“Where did you come from?” Violet questions as she spins around on the stool. Ignoring her brother, I smirk at her and signal for the bartender. I order the birthday girl her dirty martini and two shots of bourbon for me and Joaquin, who rags on Violet about her dress.
“What’s wrong with my dress?”
“Half of it is missing,” Joaquin says.
“Don’t be lame. It’s bad enough I have to sit here and twiddle my thumbs while you two have some fancy dinner…” I tune out the rest of her sentence as a frown ticks the corners of my mouth. While she’s twiddling her thumbs, I definitely won’t be enjoying dinner because my mind will be on her, wondering how many guys are trying to take her home with them.
Our drinks arrive and I shake the thoughts from my head.
“I suppose we should toast you,” Joaquin growls as he snatches one of the shots from the bar.
“Yes,” Violet says, plucking the olive from the little plastic sword with her teeth.
Jesus Christ.
“Go on, boys, tell me how much you love me and how wonderful it is to have me in your lives.”
Yeah, she’s trouble all right.
“They’re inflating your ego at that dancing school, Bug,” I comment.
Must be the men in tights.
“It’s the New York Academy of Ballet,” she corrects. “Not a dancing school.” Her eyes hold mine for a moment and something flashes in those big blue orbs—something that tells me her nights moonlighting as a stripper are long behind her.
A thank you would be nice.
But I like my balls where they are, so I don’t tell her that. Instead, I say, “Isn’t that the same shit?”
“It is so not the same thing and to be clear, they don’t inflate my ego. It’s quite the opposite.” Setting her glass on top of the bar, she turns back to me and I forget all about my own drink as she goes on a tangent. “I’m constantly told I’m not good enough, that I don’t have what it takes to make it onto the stage. I’m five pounds heavier than every girl in my class, and my hips lock entirely too much. My frame needs work…” Her voice trails as she glances over her shoulder to look at her brother.
“And what?” he snaps.
It’s good that he says something because the only thing I can think of is the million different ways I can get her hips