Tempting (Inked Hearts 1)

Goddammit, that's a fucking fantastic thought. I want to push that dress to her waist and stroke her until she comes.

She looks up at me. Her eyes are on fire with confidence. "I think about the way you screamed my name. About the way you pulled my hair when you came."

Fuck, I want her badly enough I'm considering this.

But I'm nobody's distraction. Especially not Violet's.

She presses her hips against mine. "You're hard."

Harder than I've been in a long time. "You're drunk."

She shakes her head. "I'm not." She brings her lips to my ear. "You were going to fuck the slut in the cheap heels."

"And your heels?"

She takes a step backwards. "These are Aerosoles. Or maybe Naturalizers. I forget, but they're good shit. Nice. Expensive."

I have to laugh. She laughs too. It breaks up the tension, sexual or otherwise. For a second, it's like everything is normal, like before we broke up, before her brother died.

Nobody else makes me feel like this.

I smile at Violet. "Aren't those shoes for soccer moms?"

She folds her arms. "I'm twenty-three."

"Twenty-four in two weeks."

She frowns, taken aback by me remembering her birthday. But that's ridiculous. We were together for three years. I remember way more than her fucking birthday. I remember every inch of her, every groan or moan or scream that fell off her lips.

Goddammit, I want to rip off her clothes and fuck her until she's screaming.

Thank God for self-respect or I'd already have my head between her legs.

Violet teases back. "If I'm twenty-three, then these shoes are obviously for twenty-three year olds. I can't help it that most people my age don't appreciate good arch support."

"I'm not gonna fuck you, Vi."

"I figured that out already."

"It won't help you turn off your brain. Your brain doesn't have an off switch."

She falls back on the bed. "I know."

"There are extra toothbrushes in the bathroom."

She looks up at me. "Okay."

"There's Advil too. Take one and drink a few glasses of water."

She stares back at me. "Good night, Ethan."

"You too."

I leave her in my bed and attempt to relax downstairs. It's not happening. My body and my heart are at war. It's throw the woman on your bed and split her in half vs. throw the woman out of your house before she hurts you again.

Violet may not be able to turn her brain off, but I can.

I go to our practice room and I play until I can't think or feel anything but the strings of my guitar.