Sweetest Venom (Virtue #2)(2)

“Blaire?” I hear Lawrence ask, making me realize that I’m standing in the middle of the street, blatantly staring at Ronan, who’s more glorious than I remembered.

I close my eyes, take a calming breath, and turn to face Lawrence. “I’m sorry. Did you say something?”

“Is everything all right?” he says, curiosity ringing in his voice.

“Yeah… I thought I saw someone I knew, but I was wrong,” I lie.

Lawrence nods as he places a hand on my lower back, his touch possessive and intimate, and propels me to walk toward the car. Toward the man who’s looking at me as though I killed his dog. When our gazes connect once more, my heart is pounding. I want to look away, yet a part of me wants to absorb every familiar detail of his features and carve them in my brain until they draw my blood. But what I see in his eyes, so full of hate, holds me hostage.

When I’ve had enough, I look straight ahead at the cars passing by, the street lamps illuminating the night with their glow, and pretend not to know Ronan. I ignore the man whose kisses I can still taste, whose warm hands I can still feel caressing my skin, and whose words still echo in my head. I ignore him like I ignore the tightness in my chest. I ignore all emotion and listen to my head. As usual.

I turn to look at Lawrence as he glances between Ronan and me. I push myself closer to him in an attempt to distract him.

“About what you said before …” I place a hand on his hard chest, sparks shooting up my arm.

“Yes?” he asks.

I stop walking and stand on my tiptoes, not worrying that Ronan is watching us, and whisper against Lawrence’s mouth, “I want you, too.”

He leans forward, grabs my hip possessively, and speaks in my ear, his lips grazing my neck. “Good.”

Lawrence and I finish walking the short distance to the car and with mere inches separating Ronan from me, I get in without glancing his way. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice he is no longer watching me. Tears sting my eyes as I lift my chin and tell myself that I don’t care.

Once Ronan is sitting behind the steering wheel, Lawrence places a hand on my thigh possessively before he orders, “To the townhouse, please.”

And then it all happens at once. Ronan looks up as Lawrence pulls me in for a kiss, his fingers sliding under my skirt and settling between my legs. Ronan’s gaze follows Lawrence’s hand before locking with mine in the rearview mirror. Our eyes connected, he watches Lawrence claim my mouth with his demanding tongue. But when Lawrence deepens the kiss, cradling the back of my neck and pushing me harder against him, I can’t meet Ronan’s stare anymore. Shame corrodes my soul as Lawrence’s soiled touch awakens my body.

Feeling Lawrence’s mouth on mine, I think of all the events that have brought me to this moment. I once yearned for love like everyone else, but it was the lack of love that made me realize that, by opening my heart to people, I was allowing them to weaken me. I was allowing them to take parts of me until all that was left was a girl with nothing else to give, with nothing inside of her but broken dreams. I was giving them the power to rule over my emotions and my thoughts. Every tear shed, every wish wished upon, and every smile that went unnoticed hardened me and made me who I am. I swore to God that I would never give anyone that power. That I would never let anyone get close enough to take another part of me.

And that’s why I had to let Ronan go.

He got too close. He made me feel too much. Ronan doesn’t only have the power to break me—he has the power to destroy me.

So here I am, pressing my lips harder against Lawrence and opening my mouth wider for his tongue. I look away and disregard a pair of brown eyes that once looked at me as though I were everything good in this world.

Yeah, pretending not to care takes skills, after all.

The memory of his words whispers in my ear, trying to pull me back to him.

Don’t you see it, Blaire? Don’t you get it? You’re in me. In everything I see. In everything I touch. You’re in the air I breathe, in the water I drink, and in every dream I dream.





THE TRIP TO LAWRENCE’S TOWNHOUSE is a living, breathing nightmare. Everything becomes a haze of emotions and images where it all blends together. Green eyes. Brown eyes. Hate. Lust. Yearning. One big clusterf*ck of my own doing.

I might be sitting next to Lawrence but my mind is in the past, replaying the last time I saw Ronan over and over again.

It isn’t until we’re standing inside his house, Ronan and the world left outside its doors, that I’m able to breathe freely for the first time. Without saying a word, I make my way toward the staircase. The sooner we’re in his room f*cking, the sooner I’ll be able to freeze my treacherous heart currently thawing like an ice cap in spring once more. I place my hand on the wooden handlebar at the bottom of the stairs when I realize that Lawrence isn’t following me. I turn to look at him and notice that he’s standing by the front door, studying me closely. I smile at him? but even I know that it’s a pathetic excuse for a smile.

He doesn’t smile back.

“Why are you standing there and not here? Is something wrong?”

As I await his answer, I take a moment to admire him, to absorb his wild yet polished beauty. Lawrence reminds me of an untamed animal, magnificent as the king of his domain with hunger in his eyes and graceful movements. He’s danger, inviting you to play with him as he taunts you with a tempting smile. And you know that you will be hurt for having done so, but you won’t be sorry—no, never sorry. He looks like a man who was born to rule and f*ck.