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I guess it still is.
I open my mouth to argue with him when a hand on my lower back stops me. Turning to look at Isaac behind me, our eyes connect, and I see the unspoken message there.Give it up. It's too late.Gritting my teeth, I fight against my intense gut feeling saying this is unnecessary. If we just apologized and explained, asked her for a second chance, maybe we could actuallybe something.
I feel it in my soul. I have since the very fucking beginning, when we first saw her. Each of us felt something, a connection. It's why we'd lusted after her for so damn long, why we jumped at the chance to be with her, if even for a night. We'd made up some dumb ass excuse laden with irrelevant and idiotic rules about never seeing her again. We just wanted our shot, one taste, a chance, and we fucking blew it. Yeah, circumstances were out of our control and our lives tuned into shit shows since then, but….
Renz doesn't give me a chance to say anything more. He turns, opens the door, and all but flies out the back of the Escalade towards the club. Sighing, I shake my head and follow after him, Zac hot on my heels.
"I know man, I get it, but he's right. It has to be done," Zac murmurs, his hot breath skittering over my ear. Normally, it would send a round of shivers across my body, but right now, I just want to throat punch him. I step away from his close proximity and stomp my way past the bouncer who gives each of us a nod while holding the door open.
The second we step inside, I notice two things. One, it's a full house tonight. Bodies are packed in like sardines and if I didn't know any better, I'd say we're way past our maximum capacity and breaking fire codes. Two, the beautiful woman who takes up far too much space in my brain is standing at the bar. My eyes hone in on my Little Flower and her badass purple hair, drawing me in like a beacon.
Since I'm so attuned to her, I get a front-row seat to the show she's putting on. I don't think Renz or Zac have noticed her yet. Renz got pulled aside almost immediately by one of our security guys and out of the corner of my eye, I see Zac step up to help sort out whatever issue security needs help handling. I, on the other hand, am too busy to care.
I watch as one of our bartenders, Nova, passes her a shot of something clear, probably vodka or tequila. Violet taps the shot glass with one of her sisters; I think her name is Lilac or Rose or something. She's pretty but pales in comparison to our girl.Fuck, no, can't call her that.Shaking my head, I watch as Violet downs the shot, slamming the glass on the counter and jumping up, dragging her sister to the dancefloor.
I'm pulled out of my insane stalker moment when someone shoves me from behind, making me stumble forward. It's just hard enough that I lose sight of Violet in the heavy crowd. I spin, shooting daggers at whoever made me lose sight of my girl, only to realize that I've barely taken three steps from the front door. Looking around, I find Renz and Zac, their arms crossed, facing some drunk fuck held by security as he argues with them.
I should be with them, helping them sort out the drama. I am part owner of this club, after all. Right now, all I can think about is finding Violet. Deciding I need to see her up close once more before the guys follow through with their plan, I say fuck it, and head toward the dancefloor. The slow, heavy beat ofGuest Room by Echosbounces off the walls and vibrates the floor.
Every step I take in her direction fills me with nervous energy. I'm more excited than I have been for anything in a long ass time. Violet is the last girl any of us were with. Everything in our lives took such a drastic turn the morning after our night with her. The call from Matteo, Renz's uncle, and Renz officially taking over as head of the Cosa Nostra; meant life as we knew it was over.
Threats to his life are regular occurrences, and because Isaac is his second and I'm his third, we are unsafe by proxy. It's the reason we rarely travel as a group anymore. We don't go out in public together unless we really have to. We don't associate with those we don't know unless absolutely necessary. We don't take unnecessary, ridiculous risks, particularly not with those around us.
Anyone close to us is collateral. No one in our lives is safe while we are at war, especially since we are still trying to form alliances. That's why Renz unilaterally decided that Violet couldn't be anything more than a one-night stand, no matter how badly each of us wanted more. While I understand his reasoning and even agree with it to a certain extent, I think he made a grave miscalculation in his argument.
Our girl is stronger than he thinks and I wholeheartedly believe she could handle our world. No, she wouldthrive.
Pushing through the crowd, I make my way to the dancefloor quickly but don't I spot her right away. At 6"3, I'm a tall guy and I can see over most everyone's heads. Still, the crowd is thick and everyone is smashed together, bumping and grinding, making finding a tiny little thing like Violet difficult. The strobe lights illuminate the space at random as I search the area. Finally, a flash of purple peeks through a sea of normal colored hair.
A wave of indecision washes through me. We haven't seen her since that night, and as much as I wished I could see her again, it's been three months. She could be pissed or hate us. She could resent us for walking out. Even worse, she could just flat out not give a shit about us,about me.
As much as Renz swears the only reason she turned up tonight was in hopes of seeing us again, I personally find that line of thinking completely irrational and self-involved, which, let's face it, that's Renz to a T. I think it comes from how he was raised, in a house of entitlement and privilege with a powerful family name. Everything generally did involve them to a certain degree but when it comes to Violet, I don't believe that's the case. In fact, I'm totally on the other end of the spectrum.
Self-doubt fills me to the point that I reconsider my actions; the need to turn around and leave altogether nearly has me bolting. Then, I remember why we're here, and I'll be fucked if I don't get to see her smile one more time before Renz crushes her. Decision made, I push my way through the throngs of people, never taking my eyes off the small flashes of her vibrant hair. She's smack dab in the center of the busy dancefloor and tiny peeks of platinum blonde tell me that she's probably dancing with her sister.
The thought of my Little Flower dancing, her hips swaying sensually to the beat, reminds me of the night we shared and how it all began with Renz demanding a strip tease. Fuck, did she deliver. When she started dancing for us, she was nervous, but by the time the second song cut in, she was mostly naked and practically fucking her own hand.
"Shit," I groan, fighting the need to adjust my now stiff, aching cock in my jeans. I can't let myself think about what came next, or I'll be dragging her back to our office for round two.
In a scene practically out of a movie, the crowd parts like the red fucking sea, the final few people keeping us apart moving out of my way. Maybe they know how badly I need to be with her right now, or maybe, they just notice that I'm a big ass, tattooed, pierced motherfucker whose face is no doubt a mask of pure determination. Probably the latter, but I don't particularly care. I'm just beyond elated to finally have eyes on her.All of her.Her back is turned to me as she jokingly grinds on her sister's ass, both their heads thrown back with laughter.
The sound, though muffled by the loud music and crowd, sends a shock straight down to my balls.Fuck, I missed that sound.
Much like the last time I saw her in this club, she's wearing fuck-me black pumps and a skirt that’s classy while still borderline indecent. It fits her like a second skin, showing off the round curve of her perfect ass, the subtle shape of her hips. There’s a split in the material on one side that exposes her thigh tattoo and her long, sculpted legs. Violet has a short torso but the way the skirt rides up high on her waist makes her look like a supermodel. The gold, sparkly top is tight and practically see-through, and I can feel my mouth water.
Her long purple hair is pulled up into a high, wavy ponytail and I'm immediately assaulted with visions of yanking on it while I guide her pouty mouth up and down my fat cock. My vision shifts to the memory of her wearing nothing but those heels, her thigh highs, and garter while she crawled across the floor to swallow me down her throat. Her face was pink with arousal, her ass swaying back and forth in the air, her long purple hair framing her face and practically hitting the floor the entire—
I'm aggressively yanked from one of the best memories of my existence when some meaty-ass, Guido-looking dude steps up behind her. The douchebag grabs her hips and pulls her ass into his crotch, making her stumble slightly. The instantaneous need to shoot the guy right in his junk has me stepping forward before I've even made the conscious decision to do so. But then, my Little Flower laughs. She fuckinglaughsat the spray-tanned ape. If that sight isn't bad enough, her snaking her cute little arm up and around the back of his neck, pulling him in closer, has me wanting to do all sorts of crazy shit.
First: Kill him.
Second: Demand she get down on her knees and worship my dick until the urge to throttle her disappears.
Third: Stab myself in the eyes to get rid of the sight of her grinding on someone completely unworthy of touching any part of her beautiful body, including, but not limited to the soles of her dirty shoes.
Fourth: Go back in time and, not fuck shit up with her in the first place, allowing her the opportunity to ever be with any other men.
Oh fuck.What if she's been with others since us? What if we created a monster? A horny little nymphomaniac monster, who goes around picking up guys and demanding they fuck her until she can't walk the next day?
