I swallow hard, suddenly aware I might be revealing too much. Pushing too fast. "I'd like to be," I admit, honesty winning out over caution. "But I'll take what I can get."
She studies my face, searching for something. I hold her gaze, letting her see whatever she needs to. Finally, her expression softens.
"I missed you too," she says, so quietly I almost miss it. "More than I probably should have."
The admission lands in my chest, warm and weighty. I press my forehead to hers, overwhelmed by the simple confession. It's not a declaration of love. It's not even a promise. But from Violet Colton, guarded and careful Violet, who weighs every word before speaking it, it feels monumental.
"Good," I murmur. "You're not allowed to leave me alone for that long again. Team Principal's orders."
"I'mthe Team Principal," she reminds me, eyebrow arched in that way that never fails to make my stomach flip. "I give the orders."
"Then order me to kiss you breathless," I whisper, my voice dropping lower, my lips hovering just above hers. "Because I've been thinking about nothing else in the last couple of hours."
Her eyes darken, pupils expanding until only a thin ring of brown remains. "So needy," she murmurs, but her hands slide up to cup my face, careful of my bruised eye. "So demanding."
"Only with you," I admit, the truth slipping out before I can stop it. "Only ever with you."
Her hands slide from my face to the back of my neck, and then she's pulling me to her. Our lips collide with a hunger that shocks me—not gentle or testing but desperate. Like she's been starving for this, too. This morning’s makeout session in the cafeteria feels tame in comparison. My brain short-circuits, every thought vaporizing under the heat of her mouth on mine.
I respond instantly, arms tightening around her, lifting her slightly until she's on her toes. Her lips part beneath mine, and I'm lost. The taste of her—coffee and pistachio—floods my senses. My hands roam her back, pressing her closer, needing to eliminate any space between us. My cock hardens against her hips as I move slowly, seeking the friction.
Her fingers tangle in my hair, tugging slightly in a way that makes my knees weak. I moan into her mouth—the soundembarrassingly needy—but I'm beyond caring. This is Violet. My Violet. At least for now, at least in this moment.
We break apart, both gasping for air. Her eyes are dark and wide, lips swollen from our kiss. I've mussed her perfect composure—her curls wild around her face, the collar of her impeccable suit askew. She's never looked more beautiful.
"I should go away more often," she murmurs, her voice husky in a way that shoots straight to my groin. "If this is the welcome I get."
"Don't you dare," I warn, pressing my lips to the corner of her mouth. "Next time, I'll just follow you. Stow away in your luggage."
She laughs, the sound vibrating against my lips. "You'd never fit. You're too"—her hands slide down to squeeze my ass—"substantial."
"Is that a complaint?" I press a line of kisses along her jaw.
"Quite the opposite." Her head tilts back, giving me better access to her neck. "Though with the dim lights, no one would see you lurking like a sexy raccoon anyway."
I pull back, blinking at her in mock offense. "A raccoon? Again? I thought we'd moved past the eye jokes."
She traces delicately around my bruise, barely touching the tender skin. "Never. It's too good. Your little masked bandit look." Her smile turns wicked.
I laugh, caught between outrage and arousal at her teasing. "You're vicious, Violet. Absolutely heartless."
"Mmm, and yet here you are," she murmurs against my cheekbone. "Begging for more abuse."
"Not abuse I'm begging for," I counter, my voice dropping lower as my hands find her hips, pulling them against mine deliberately. "Though I'm open to suggestions."
Her sharp intake of breath is deeply satisfying. "Such as?" The challenge in her voice is unmistakable.
I duck my head, bringing my lips to her ear. "Such as exploring all the things that are better with moody lights on." I graze her earlobe with my teeth, drawing another gasped breath from her. "Like how I can find every sensitive spot on your body without seeing it." I caress her thigh, going higher at a tantalizingly slow speed. "How I know exactly"—I slide my other hand up her side, fingers skimming just beneath her breast—"where to touch you to make you say my name."
Her grip tightens in my hair. "Awfully confident for someone who hasn't touched me in over two weeks."
"Some things you don't forget," I murmur, trailing my lips down her throat. "Like how your breath catches when I kiss you here—" I press my mouth to the hollow of her throat, her pulse jumping beneath my lips as a moan escapes her mouth. "Or how your knees go weak when I—"
I slide my hand higher, closer under her skirt, my fingers finding her damp panties. Her sharp gasp tells me I'm right.
"You were saying?" I smirk against her skin.
Her answer is to pull my mouth back to hers, lips crashing into mine with need. Her fingers work at the buttons of my shirt, surprisingly clumsy for someone usually so composed. I return the favor, pushing her suit jacket from her shoulders, letting it fall forgotten to the kitchen floor.
