The Probability of Violet and Luke(40)

It was like one moment I was standing in the towel, tripping out over life, and how I need to find a way to settle myself down. There are a ton of tall buildings in Vegas and I was wondering how hard it would be to get to the top of one of them but then Luke comes walking into the room and was looking at me with that hunger in his eyes that actually makes me feel want instead of disgust like I do with most guys. I started thinking of how the last guy that touched me was Preston, how he made me get down on my knees, shoving me so hard that I bumped my leg on the side of the bed. Then he grabbed my hair and made me suck his dick. I want to erase the memory, not let it be so fresh in my mind, so I dropped the towel, hoping for… well, I wasn’t sure, but definitely nothing as amazing as this.

Luke’s face is between my thighs, one of my legs hitched over his shoulder, his mouth licking and pulling and sucking and nibbling, making tingles and sweltering heat shoot throughout my body. Never has a guy touched me like this. The guys I’ve known were always takers. Luke seemed like one of these guys when I first met him, but I learned quickly that his rough exterior was very misleading. He’s not the guy everyone thinks he is, at least when he’s with me.

I let go, relaxing against the wall, as he continues to work wonders on me with his mouth, his fingers digging into my thighs, pressing into my bruises, but I don’t feel the pain. All I feel is that wonderful sensation of freedom as heat builds inside of me and I grip onto Luke as I fall into the center of it. I end up pulling on his hair roughly, but I’m too incoherent to release my hold. But it doesn’t seem to bother him as his tongue and mouth continue to take me all the way to the end, until I’m coming down and breathing profusely. Then he starts to pull back, but pauses, his fingers grazing one of the bruises on my knee.

“What happened here?” he asks, his voice so low and husky that it causes vibrations across my skin, almost to the point that I think I’m going to orgasm again.

“I fell,” I lie, bringing my leg off his shoulder, feeling bad for not telling the truth, but the truth will only hurt both of us and we’ve shared enough pain to last a lifetime.

He catches me as I’m starting to walk away, then delicately traces the bruise pattern down my skin. “You know, I can tell when you’re lying.”

“Please don’t ruin this,” I say softly. “Please just drop it… I can’t tell you… not right now.” God, how wrong would that be. Right after he gives me oral sex for the first time, I say oh, hey, by the way, I gave Preston a blowjob, so recently that I still have the bruises.

He wants to argue with me to tell him, because that’s what we do—argue, banter, and most of the time I enjoy it—but instead he gets up, his lips still wet from me as he leans in to kiss me, giving me the rush I so desperately needed from the naughtiness of the whole thing.

His tongue slides deeply into my mouth and our tongues briefly tangle before he pulls away. He tucks a strand of my damp hair behind my ear and looks me directly in the eye, as if he’s about to say something important.

“If I ever find out that he hurt you, he’s going to pay,” he says firmly. I don’t have to ask who he is. I know who he’s talking about just like he probably knows where the bruises came from—well from Preston, maybe not the blowjob part—even though I didn’t tell him. It gives me insight to him. I mean, before I took off, we’d only known each other for like a couple of months and barely were together for a few weeks. I only saw this protective side of him twice—once with Preston and once with the reporter, Stan. I’m learning, though, that it might be his thing and I both love and hate it. Hate because I don’t want to rely on anyone to protect me like that. I’m too strong for that and relying on people will only break me and make me weak when they become unreliable. And love, well, because I’ve never had anyone do that for me.

It’s always been me against the world. But part of me wonders, if I could ever, possibly, maybe, let go of the past enough to really be with Luke if it could be me and him against the world.

But that might be me just wanting to stay in the land of make believe.

Chapter 9
Luke

Perfect. Perfect. Perfect. The night started that way, but the moment of elation being with Violet quickly dissipates the moment we leave that room and I realize I’m not nearly drunk enough for what lies ahead for the night. Before we take off to The Warehouse, my Uncle Cole pulls me aside to remind me of the rules, which reminds me of the risks I’m taking. It’s kind of stupid when I think about it. I f*cked up by cheating while gambling and now I have to cheat again while gambling to make up for it. If I mess up, I’ll be right back where I started only I’ll owe two *s money.