Owning Violet (The Fowler Sisters #1)(110)

She blinks but doesn’t say a word. I trace her lips, a surge of emotion pulsing through me when she draws my finger into her mouth and sucks just the tip. Watching her do that takes me to a place I can’t go yet. A place where I take her somewhere private so I can tell her—more like show her—how I really feel.

I remove my finger from her mouth, not wanting this moment to be about lust and sex. I need her to see what she really means to me.

“Forgive me.” The words rasp from the depths of my chest and my throat is scratchy. I’m laying everything on the line. Every f*cking thing. “Please.”

“I want to.” She closes her eyes and a tear escapes, sliding down her cheek. I stop its progress with my thumb, my heart cracking in two at the sight of her pain. “I want to so badly. I miss you, Ryder.”

“I miss you, too, baby. Being in London without you just about killed me. I wanted you there.”

She opens her eyes, staring at me. “Really?”

I nod, caressing her cheek, thankful she’s not pushing me away. She’s my woman. Mine. I own her. She f*cking owns me.

I’m in love with her. The moment she walked out of my apartment I knew it. Knew that I couldn’t live without her. This was my chance and I couldn’t f*ck it up. Never again. I needed to play right by her. Show her just how much she means to me.

“It was so awful, listening to your confession that night. I’ve never been so hurt. I was—” She presses her lips together and sighs heavily. “I was falling for you, Ryder. So hard. And you stomped all over me like I didn’t matter. You broke my heart.”

Without a word, I grab hold of her arm and pull her along with me as we exit the room. She protests mildly as we hurry down a darkened hallway toward the back door of the restaurant, saying she forgot her purse, her phone. I glance over my shoulder, seeing everything she’s feeling shining in her still tear-filled eyes. Stopping, I run my thumbs across her cheeks, catching as many falling tears as I can, then I lean in and kiss her forehead. “Your sister will get your purse and phone. Just … come with me.”

“Where are we going?” she asks softly.

“I don’t know. All I know is … I need you.” I close my eyes against the swell of emotions that threaten. I won’t f*ck this up. I refuse to ruin this. We can start fresh, Violet and I. That’s all I want. All I need.

Violet.

We enter her darkened apartment after her doorman let us in and I grab hold of her before she starts toward the lamp that sits nearby, needing the darkness. “Are you really okay with me being here?”

She steps close to me, leaning her forehead against my chin. “Yes,” she whispers. “Everywhere I look, you’re here. Even when you’re not.”

I slip my arms around her waist and pull her close, relishing the feel of her body against mine. It’s only been days. A week. And I feel like it’s been months. Years since I’ve seen her. Held her. Touched her. Kissed her.

“Will you forgive me, Violet? For what I did?” I ask.

Reaching for her face, I cup her cheeks and tilt her head up so I can look at her, barely making out her beautiful features in the dim light the cracked blinds let in. “Tell me, baby. I need your forgiveness.”

She presses her lips together and slowly nods. “Y-yes.”

I hold her more firmly, my fingers pressing into her scalp. “I’m falling in love with you. You’ll probably tell me I’m not because I don’t know how to love, but I’m one hundred percent positive that’s what I feel for you.”

“Oh, my God.” She closes her eyes, her entire body seeming to sag. She said I broke her heart. Seeing her like this is breaking mine, slowly but surely, into a million tiny pieces. All I want to do is put her back together again. Let her put me back together again. “You don’t mean it. Do you?”

“I f*cking mean it. Don’t ever doubt me again. I swear I’ll be nothing but truthful with you for the rest of our lives.” I give her head a little shake and she opens her eyes, staring at me. “I’m in love with you, Violet.”

Violet presses her trembling lips together and swallows. I see the gentle movement of her throat. Leaning in, I press my lips to the spot where her pulse throbs and I whisper against her skin, “Tell me. It’s okay if you don’t feel the same …”

She grabs hold of my wrists and clings to me, reminding me of the first night I took her against the door. How I f*cked her and left her like a coward immediately afterward.

This woman makes me feel too much. Makes me soft when I’ve been nothing but hard. Unfeeling. I didn’t like it then. I hated it.

Now, I crave it. Need it. Need her.

I brace myself for her answer.

“You broke me, Ryder. You were the first man I felt truly safe with and then you hurt me so bad with your words, with the truth. I didn’t know …”

She pauses, and I smooth my thumbs across her cheeks, wanting her to know I need to hear the rest. No matter how much she’s torturing me, I have to know. “You didn’t know what?”

“After I left your apartment, I didn’t know if I could ever forgive you for what you did.” A choked sob escapes her and I release my grip on her face to pull her into my arms, running my hand up and down her back as she cries against my shirt, her tears soaking the fabric.