Owning Violet (The Fowler Sisters #1)(62)

The gall of this man is unbelievable. “You think I’m just sampling other goods before I go back to you?” Ryder’s dark brows rise at my question.

“You know we belong together.” His voice is firm. He thinks I won’t argue. He thinks I’ll come back to him and eventually become his docile wife.

He’s completely delusional.

I can’t even bother to argue any longer. I simply hang up the phone and set it on the table, right next to my iPad. I need to gather up my things and go back to my office. Put everything away and go home. I can’t take this day any longer.

It’s like everyone’s trying to break me.

Chapter Eighteen

Ryder

She fled the conference room after her ridiculous conversation with Lawrence, not revealing much, though I could hear him over the phone. Smug bastard thinks he can snap his fingers and she’ll come running back to him. That she’s just using me as a distraction. In his dreams.

I suggested she use me, but I never meant for her to go back to that *. He’s the worst thing for her.

I’m no better.

I remain in my office though it’s past five on a Friday afternoon and everyone’s cleared out. The spring weather makes everyone antsy for the weekend and normally I’m just as eager as the rest of them to get the hell out of here, but not today. All I can think about is Violet.

Sprawled naked on top of the black marble table, her skin so pale, watching as she skimmed her curves with trembling hands. The sounds of her creamy * as she touched herself, the way she arched her back, how overcome I’d been watching her fall apart that I’d taken over. Making her come again with my tongue and mouth in a matter of seconds.

Christ, I’m hard just remembering it.

The push and pull between us is ridiculous. I infuriate her and ignite her all at once. She’s not made me angry once. There’s no reason. Frustrated? Yes. She inflames me. Makes me want things I should never, ever consider.

Like her.

Deciding to hell with it, I grab my cell and send her a quick text asking if she’s okay, needing to make that contact, hoping she’ll answer me. Is she really all right? Or worse … is she with Lawrence?

I push my hands through my hair and clutch the back of my head with a growl. Fuck. I can’t stand the thought of that bastard touching her.

I’m fine. Thank you for your concern.

I stare at her answer, wanting to laugh. Wanting to ask her why the hell she’s so damn polite all the time. Instead I type out another text, deciding to cut to the chase.

Are you with your ex?

God no.

Her reply is quick and fills me with relief. I expel a breath, realizing I was holding it, and I grimace, shaking my head at myself. I need to get to the sex part. I don’t care about her. Not really. I can’t.

I’m still thinking of what happened earlier.

She doesn’t respond for so long I become agitated, doubting myself for sending that text. When the hell do I ever second-guess myself? Grabbing a pen, I tap it against the edge of my desk, the rhythmic sound loud and grating on my nerves. I don’t stop, though. It’s as if I can’t.

What exactly are you thinking about?

I drop my pen and pick up the phone with both hands, my thumbs flying over the keys as I answer her.

You. Naked. Spread out on the table. With your fingers in your * as you f*ck yourself.

Smiling, I set the phone down and wait for her to reply. More than curious to see what she’ll say because I’ve just raised the bar in this text exchange.

Knowing you watched made me hot.

My smile fades. I’m hot right now. Hell, sweat is forming on my skin.

Watching you made me f*cking hot.

A minute passes. Then another. The longest two minutes of my life.

I know.

She surprises me. I really didn’t think she had it in her. I knew I would have fun playing with Violet, but I didn’t think it would be this much fun.

I want to watch you again.

God, I do. So bad it’s killing me.

Let’s forget about watching and move on to doing.

A chuckle escapes me. Fuck this texting crap. I’m calling her direct.

“You wanted to hear my voice?” she says in answer after picking up on the third ring. Making me wait, smart girl.

Another laugh escapes me. “You’re feeling rather bold.”

“I’m tired of being meek.”

And now I’m intrigued. “How so?”

“Just … come over. To my place.” She sighs, the sound soft. Wistful. It goes straight to my dick, making me hard. Making me ache. For her. “I need to forget.”

“Forget what?” Forget your troubles? Forget Lawrence? Forget everything but you and me?

“Just … today was awful. But you coming over will make it a lot better.” She sounds the slightest bit defeated and I don’t like that. Don’t want to be the cause of her sadness, either.

“Awful, huh?” I lean back in my chair, picking up the pen again and tapping it against my bent knee. “Even in the conference room?”

Her voice lowers, soft and sweet. “That was my favorite part of the day.”

“Mine, too.” I lean forward, tossing the pen on my desk so it rolls away and lands on the floor with a plop. “I can make it better.”