“What? Why are you looking at me like you want to f**k me?” Jonah asks with a grin, a cloud of smoke snaking from his lips.

“I’m not.” I kneel up on the bed and sweep my hair to the side as I inch closer, pulling the sucker out of my mouth. My shirt’s ridden up and Jonah takes in my bare skin with a lazy grin on his face. I could kiss him and find out if Jonah is as good of a distraction as Luke. I’ve never been one for kissing, but maybe something’s changed, maybe I could—

Someone hammers on the door. “Violet, open the f**king door.” It’s Luke’s voice and it’s full of anger.

Jonah’s eyes bulge as he coughs on a breath full of weed. “Oh shit, is Luke your boyfriend?”

I roll my eyes as Luke bangs on the door again. “In the year that I’ve been dealing to you have you ever seen me with a boyfriend?”

He shrugs, flicking the lighter. “No, but I don’t know anything about you—no one does.”

I open my mouth to agree with him, when Luke starts banging on the door over and over again. Shaking my head, I get up from the bed, tripping over the bottom of my skirt when I step on it, and brace myself on the door. Luke bangs on the door again and I jerk it open. He’s still in the middle of banging on the door and his fist flies toward me. I don’t move and he barely stops in time, right before he hits me in the face. He lowers his fist to his side, looking startled, but then the look vanishes and he pushes past me and into the room.

“Get the f**k out,” he says to Jonah in this calm, unsettling tone as he nods his head at the door.

Jonah moves the pipe away from his mouth. “What the hell’s your problem? I’m just sitting here smoking a bowl. I didn’t touch her.”

Luke walks up to the bed and grabs the pipe from Jonah’s hands. “You’re my problem. Now get the f**k out.”

Jonah gets up from the bed. He’s shorter than Luke, but thicker in the body. Still he does what he’s asked and heads for the door, pausing before he steps out. “Can I at least have my pipe back?”

Luke shoves him out the door, and then he tosses the pipe at him. Jonah misses it and it hits the floor, spilling singed bud all over the carpet. Jonah curses as Luke slams the door and locks it. I’m tingling from head to toe as I wait for him to turn around, but he doesn’t, he just leans his head against the door.

He has on a black shirt and jeans that are just tight enough to make his ass look really nice. Maybe his ass just looks really nice though. I’ve never really paid attention to it until now. I put the sucker into my mouth, tilting my head to the side to get a better look. When he turns toward me, I don’t even bother trying to hide the fact that I was just checking him out. I’m drunk and careless and every blasé personality trait of mine is amplified.

He rubs his hand over his cropped brown hair, his arm muscles rippling. “You’re driving me f**king crazy.”

“You say that a lot.” I roll the sucker in my mouth and his eyes dart to it.

He stares at me, his eyes large and radiating desire. “Are you doing that on purpose?” he asks with a feral look as he nods his head at the sucker in my mouth.

The sucker clicks on my teeth. “No, I had the taste of tequila on my breath and this is the only thing I had in the room that’d cover it up.”

He slumps back against the door, looking worn out. “I bet Jonah was loving it.”

My lips turn upward around the sucker. “I’m sure he was.”

He shakes his head and squeezes his eyes shut. “I swear to God you’re trying to get under my skin.”

I pull the sucker out of my mouth and chuck it into the trash. “I’m not trying to do anything to you. You’re the one who came barging in here.”

His eyes open, cold, sharp, and the look in them throws me back. And excites me. As the excitement mixes with the alcohol, I completely forget about everything. Where I am. Who I am. What I want.

He steps forward beside the head of the bed and I’m standing by the foot. “I was banging on the door because I was afraid of what you were doing in here.”

“What? Dealing drugs? That’s what I do, Luke. I already told you this.”

“Well, you shouldn’t be… and that’s not what I was thinking…” His legs stretch as he strides toward me. “I thought you were having sex.”

I want to back away from him, because heat and passion are pouring off of him as much as the scent of tequila and vodka is pouring off the both of us. “It’s not really any of your business if I was.”

“Yeah it is. Everything you do is my business.”

I snort a laugh. “How do you figure?”

He crosses his arms as he stops just short of me. “Because you brought me into your life, moved in with me…” He trails off, his focus drifting to my mouth. “Kissed me.”

I laugh and it’s my drunken laugh, high pitched and goofy sounding. “I kissed you. Get your story straight. You’re the one who smashed your lips into mine.”

“I didn’t smash my lips into yours,” he says hotly, blinking his eyes into focus as he leans in. “We kissed each other together and you liked it. Admit it.”

I shake my head in denial. “I won’t.”

“Say it.”

“No way.”

“Oh my God,” he growls, shaking with irritation as he clenches his hands. “I can’t win with you. I try and try and try to get something from you—anything—and you won’t give it to me.”

“I’m so sorry that I don’t let you win with me like all the other girls you sleep with,” my inebriated mouth says. “There’s the door.” I point my finger at it. “You can leave whenever you want.”

He shakes his head and lets out a piercing laugh. “This was supposed to be our room, but you took it over.”

“I didn’t take it over, you just won’t come in here.”

He pauses and when he speaks again, he’s calmer. “Is that what you’re really waiting for? For me to just come in here? Because it seemed like you wanted your space.”

“Yes, it’s what I was waiting for,” I stammer. Actually stammer. I never stammer. Through our little code talk I’ve somehow managed to lose my confident voice and admit to him that I’ve been waiting around for him to come to me.

He pauses, looking startled, horrified, the sedated, his eyes darkening as his eyelashes lower. “Say it again.”

“Say what?”

He slides his foot across the floor, stepping closer, and his knee bumps against mine. “That you were waiting for me to come in here.”

I shake my head, pushing my knee up against his. “I wasn’t.”

His gaze flicks to our knees touching. “You just said you were.”

“Well, I’m a liar.”

“I know, but you weren’t lying.”

I don’t say anything at all. I think about walking by him, leaving the house, heading down the road, hitchhiking to the tallest building in the city. Get to the roof and soar. Instead I stay put, because the haziness in my head is making it okay to stay here with him. I wait eagerly for him to do whatever it is he’s going to do. Yell at me. Leave me. Kiss me.

His arm comes out to the side and curls around toward my hip. I start to open my mouth as his fingers brush my skin and enfold around my waist, but suddenly I lose it and lean in, kissing him. The second our lips touch, I feel safe from all the bad in my life. I blame it on the tequila. But I’m pretty sure it’s not the tequila that makes me do what I do next, only the passion I feel in the moment. As I part my lips hoping he’ll slip his tongue into my mouth, I eliminate the space between our bodies, crushing myself up against him, then I raise my leg to hitch it over his hip. There’s a pause of reluctance on Luke’s part and then he lets out a husky groan and everything abruptly starts moving in fast motion. His hot palm slides down my hip to my thigh, fingers stabbing through the fabric of my skirt as he grips my leg and scoops me up. I hook my legs around his, locking my ankles as his tongue slides deep into my mouth. He presses up against me, moaning again as he steers us around toward the bed. Seconds later we fall. Together. We land on the mattress and it becomes concave, conforming to the weight of our bodies. We get tangled in the sheets and blanket, our legs entwined, hands all over each other, bodies writhing in harmony. I keep making these little whimpering noises, but it can’t be right. I don’t whimper.

Luke pulls his mouth away as I whimper for the fifth or eleventh time. He scans my face as I pant loudly, my hands cupping his shoulder blades, the warmth of his skin flowing through the fabric of his shirt.

“Why’d you stop?” I ask, breathless.

“I have no idea,” he mumbles then seals his lips to mine, gathering my arms in his hands and pinning them above me.

I gasp, the desire flooding through me more powerful than my need for an adrenaline rush. I’ve got plenty of it in me now. Pounding at the sensitive parts of my body, throbbing in my thighs. He devours me with his mouth as he traps my wrists together and presses me down against the bed. I kiss him back with more emotion behind it than I’ve ever let myself feel before, my fingers tracing up and down his back, through his hair as my back bows up and I writhe against him. His free hand wanders down my body, then up my skirt, heading for the top of my thigh. It’s not the furthest I’ve gone before, but the furthest I’ve gone with someone I have feelings for and the emotion behind it is becoming too much.

I start to say stop, but then his finger slips inside the edge of my panties and the words are stolen out of my lips by the startling, yet amazing tingles coursing through every part of my body. I feel like I’m going to burst and the sensation only increases when he slips a finger inside me and then another. I cry out in bliss as he starts moving them, my h*ps bucking against his hand, my body seeking more. He kisses me passionately before his mouth delves downward, his hand leaving my arms, freeing me from his hold.

I keep my arms above my head though, my eyes shut as I gasp for air. His other hand shoves my top up. He yanks my bra down and my ni**les spring free, seconds later his mouth covers my breast. I’m gone. Drowning in a sea of desire and alcohol, falling helplessly as I lose control and my body ignites. I cry out again as I dig my nails into my palms, seeking a release from the adrenaline rush I’ve been craving all night. I feel myself come apart, falling into helplessness, losing control over everything as everything inside me breaks apart and my mind drifts away. When I return back to reality, I’m exhausted, drained, but content. Luke’s no longer sucking on my nipple, but lying beside me with his elbow propped against the mattress and his head resting against his hand. He doesn’t say anything, just stares down at me, his eyes glossy, his face crammed with uncertainty, like he’s unsure—or maybe even regrets—what just happened.

“I’m sorry I had my phone off when you called me,” he says quietly. “I always turn my phone off when I’m playing poker.”

I want to tell him why I was upset, but even drunk, the idea of opening Pandora’s box stuffed with my past doesn’t seem like a good idea.

“I’m sorry I took over the room.” I offer him a tired smile.

A small smile graces his lips. “It’s fine. I was sort of intentionally sleeping out on the couch anyway, because it felt like you needed your space.”

“I thought I did… because that’s what I usually do…” I trail off, blinking through my tiredness. “But I’m not so sure anymore.”

He’s quiet for a moment. “If you need me… then I’m here.”

I take breath as he reaches over and then brushes his fingers along my ribs. He pulls my shirt back down, covering me up. It feels like the nicest thing anyone’s done for me and I feel like hugging him, but my arms are too tired.

I yawn, the drowsiness of the alcohol taking over me. “I think I’m going to go to bed,” I mumble as I flip over and practically crawl up to my pillow and collapse onto my stomach. He sits up on the edge of the bed and stares at the door. “You can go out there if you want.” I yawn again. “But I wish you’d stay here… with me…” I can barely register what I’m saying, but all I know is that when I’m in his arms, it seems like all the bad is gone.

Luke

I have never done that before. Never gave a girl everything and took nothing in return. I’d always been selfish and that was kind of the point. I wanted to be selfish instead of being walked all over.

After Violet falls asleep, telling me she wishes I’d stay with her, I sit on the bed with my head in my hands as I decide what to do. I’m seriously considering lying down with her, holding her, falling asleep because I’m exhausted. Mentally. But I can’t sort through my thoughts filled with the way she moaned and how all I wanted to do was make her moan again. Then she came and the look in her eyes was so content, so sexy, so amazing. There was so much inside emotion in her at the moment—pleasure, desire, want, need—and it was fascinating to watch because she never shows anything. It gave me the biggest hard on I’ve ever had. The next step would have been to f**k her, take back the control, get what I want out of it, yet I couldn’t. She’s drunk. I’m drunk. It’s not right and I don’t want to do that to her—that’s not how I want things to be between us.

Shaking my head, I get up and go to the door, leaving the room and her sleeping on the bed because I’m not sure I can contain myself. I feel bad for leaving, but at the same time I’m too restless to stay.