The Gender War (The Gender Game #4)(39)

It turned over easily, as if I had never left, the low roar soothing in its familiarity.

“It still works?” came Violet’s voice, barely audible over the sound of the engine.

I turned around and saw her standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame with one arm crossed over her chest.

“Yeah.”

She nodded, a little smile playing on her lips. “I’m glad.”

I shut the engine off and leaned against the bike, turning to face her. “What’s up?” I asked.

Her face grew concerned. “I’m sorry. Did you want to be out here alone? I just… It seemed like you wanted to talk.”

I recoiled for a moment, trying to process why she would think that, when it occurred to me that I had indeed left the cabin rather abruptly. I shook my head.

“No,” I chuckled. “I was just frustrated by the situation with Maxen… and dealing with a moral dilemma. But I’d love to talk to you.”

She smiled then and crossed over to the bike, carefully leaning against it and studying me. “What’s the moral dilemma?”

I nodded toward the cabin. “Maxen. I just… I wonder what good will really come from this. I mean, suppose we help him raise an army and take back the capital. He’s someone who’s never going to change things. He’s still treating you and Ms. Dale like crap, and you are doing everything in your power to save him.”

“It wasn’t until you and Henrik said anything that he even started to consider it,” she said.

“I know.”

“But he is who he is,” Violet went on. “We are who we are. I don’t think we should try to stop doing the right thing just because he’s an unmitigated ass. That would be something he would do, if he even bothered to help someone in the first place… We’re different.”

“Better?” I asked, genuinely curious about her take on it.

Violet shrugged. “I can’t say we’re better or worse—I mean, who am I to judge? I’ve done some horrible things to stay alive. Things that I can’t take back, even if I wanted to.” Her face darkened for a moment. “Maxen’s never had to face what we have, so how can we hold him up to our level, or even compare him to ourselves?”

I blinked. I had honestly never looked at it like that. “You never cease to amaze me,” I said. “Even in the face of an ‘unmitigated ass’, you still defend him. Does that extend to Elena, Desmond, or Tabitha, I wonder?”

“Oh no—they’re evil,” she deadpanned, and I laughed. “But, in all seriousness,” she continued, “I honestly can’t tell you that. Don’t get me wrong—if it came to me against them in a life or death situation, I would not hesitate to fight back or kill one—if not all—of them. But… if we managed to capture them, or they surrendered, then I think I would let their people decide what to do with them.”

I nodded, realizing I felt the same way. “All right then, I guess I can cut Maxen some slack. But that guy is an utter tool.”

“Agreed,” she said drolly, and I smiled at her. It was great to see her unguarded like this—not holding a gun, not running, not half-asleep, or… or bleeding. God.

I realized I’d stopped talking and started staring when she leaned next to me, her body touching mine at hip and shoulder, her gray eyes warm.

“I loved riding on this,” she said, and I smiled, drawn back into the memory of her small hands clinging to me as we’d ridden through the streets of Patrus more times than I could count. Each time she had touched me then, I had been forced to remind myself that she was married to another, to keep my forbidden attraction to her to myself.

I could still barely believe my luck that her marriage was a sham and her false husband dead. That she really did want… me. That all those desires I’d thought I would have to bury forever were within my grasp. That I had a chance to start over. To have her as my own.

I’d trailed off again. “Viggo?” Violet asked. “What are you thinking about?”

I responded without even blinking an eye. “I’m thinking about how much I always wanted to do this.”

Then I slid my hands around her waist, pulling her around to face me, enjoying the little gasp that escaped her before I pressed my lips against hers. I felt her smile against my mouth, her left hand moving up to press against my chest. Her lips opened to me and I delved deeper in, forgetting the world around us, getting lost in her.

Violet.

Without conscious thought, my hands pulled her closer to me, moving slowly up and down her body, enjoying her curves, the way she arched toward me, her small body pressed between my legs. A part of me wanted to pick her up and press her against a wall, but even through the rush of our two heartbeats accelerating, I knew I had to be careful. She was worn out, injured, and I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if I gave in to my urge to be rough and set off her injury in the process.

Violet took my lower lip in hers, nipping and teasing me, and I had to tamp down my resistance even harder. Her touch was making me feel better than I had in a long time. Energized. Powerful. And it was making me want more of her.

My slipping control wasn’t tested any further, because a knock at the door and a conscientious throat-clearing interrupted us. Violet and I parted lips regretfully, and she turned to face the door, though I kept my arm around her waist as I shouted, “Come in!” I refused to be embarrassed about touching my girlfriend in front of people. She was mine, and they would just have to deal with it.