Owning Violet (The Fowler Sisters #1)(14)

Fuck.

Taking a deep breath, I tell myself to get my shit together. All I did was watch her touch her f*cking earring. Big deal. I’ve seen better. I’ve watched all sorts of depraved things happen in front of me while bored out of my skull. I’ve lived far too much, seen far too much, to think there’s even a hint of innocence inside me.

Not even close. My soul is hard. As hard as that damned diamond Violet is touching. Hard and black and ugly, and crazy f*cker that I am, I revel in the blackness. The darkness. Pilar has told me more than once that sometimes I scare her.

Good. I should scare her. I may be the smooth businessman at work but during my off time, I can relax. Can become more my true self. Underneath the expensive suit and high-end watch is a man who could have easily become a hardened f*cking criminal in and out of jail. Hell, I’ve been in jail. More than once.

But I’d been a juvenile and my record is sealed. Thank Christ.

If Violet knew about my past, she’d probably freak. She’s one giant ball of insecurities. Something happened to her, something no one really talks about that sent her spiraling out of control. Daddy locked her up at the most expensive and discreet mental health facility money could buy. She came out a few months later refreshed and medicated, back at work at Fleur and leaving every employee she worked with full of envy. Supposedly, they hate her.

At least, that’s the story Pilar told me on the drive home from the restaurant last night.

Blood thrumming with anticipation, I stroll past Violet’s window, pausing at her open door and knocking before I enter. I don’t bother waiting for her to acknowledge me; I just stride inside, stopping short in front of her desk when I get a good look at her.

And just about have a heart attack.

Jesus, what is she wearing? A sleek black dress that hugs her breasts and reveals her slender arms, with her long dark hair up, exposing her neck, wavy tendrils brushing against her skin. The look is simple but effective.

As in, one look at her and I’m immediately hungry for more. More skin, more Violet, more everything.

“Ryder.” She blinks up at me, those big brown eyes wide and full of shock. “Wh-what are you doing here?”

“We have a meeting in …” I check my Rolex, then return my gaze to hers. “Five minutes. Remember?” I remain standing, my gaze dropping to the neckline of her dress. It gapes slightly at the front, allowing me a glimpse of shadowy cleavage, and I catch sight of the sheer white lace bra covering her full, tempting breasts.

I immediately break out in a sweat.

Her glossy peach-colored lips part as she stares at me. Hell, I’m going to fantasize later about my dick sticky with peach gloss—I can just see it. She gives herself a little shake. Like she’s just as entranced as I am. Interesting. “Of course I remember. I was just about to head to the conference room.”

“Same here. I’ll go with you.” I don’t bother asking, because I’m not about to give her the opportunity to refuse me.

“I was waiting for my sister. She’s going to sit in on the meeting, too.” Violet nibbles her lower lip, her teeth sinking into peachy lush flesh, and holy f*ck, who knew that sort of innocent look could be so sexy?

“I don’t mind waiting for Rose.” I’ve spoken with her before. She’s friendlier than Violet, much more open. “If you don’t.”

Violet tilts her head back, contemplating me, and I realize what a power position I have over her. She’s seated; she’s the one behind the twenty-thousand-dollar desk. Truly, she’s the one with the power over me, career-wise.

But towering over her, I know that in this moment I’m all that she sees, all that she hears. And I f*cking love it.

“No. I don’t mind.” She busies herself, gathering a notepad and a pen, grabbing her cell phone and setting it on top so everything is in a nice, neat pile. Her office is clean, not a hint of clutter to be found anywhere, and I bet where she lives is the same way.

Clearly this is a woman who needs some messing up so she can get a little dirty. Have some excitement in her life for once. I get the feeling she’s orderly to a fault.

That sounds infinitely boring.

“She should be here any second,” Violet says when I remain quiet, as if she’s desperate to fill the silence.

Watching her, seeing her hesitate, feeling the discomfort radiate off of her in near visible waves, I’m even more confident my plan will work. She’s so vulnerable, so unsure, such a damn easy mark. And she’s beautiful. Fucking beautiful, with a scent that drives me wild.

I can smell her now, and I want to inhale her like a drug. I hear her shift in her seat, see her lick her already glossy upper lip, and my cock hardens. What would she do if I pulled her out of her chair, spread her out on top of her desk, and f*cked her right here? Anyone could pass by and see us, but we’d be too overcome with lust to care …

Damn. I rub my hand across the back of my neck, tearing my gaze away from her. She’s f*cking tempting. This is the most excited I’ve been about a woman in a while. I make her uncomfortable, though. I sensed that last night and I’m sensing it again. Right now. I need to try and put her at ease, but …

Either I can use that edgy discomfort to my advantage or I can throw it all out in the open and see how she reacts.

I let my gaze return to her, tracking her every movement, remaining locked on her fingers as she tucks a stray strand of hair behind her ear and fidgets uneasily. I’d like to be those fingers. Touching her, learning how soft her skin really is. “You want me to leave, don’t you,” I say, because that’s completely logical.