"Vi, you're—"
"Just surprised. It's very romantic. And we're not… you know, this is casual and I mean, you're important to me, and I do care about you, but we're both on the same page about this being no strings attached, so a bubble bath catches me a little off guard. You know, it's just romantic and I was more expecting you to peel off my panties and pin me to the wall."
That's tempting as fuck. I cock a brow. "More than happy to."
She smiles. "After. This… this is nice. Any normal person would think it's nice."
Her voice is dripping with apprehension. She smiles again. It's more convincing, this time.
Okay, I guess I'll take her at her word here.
I pull my t-shirt over my head. She traces the lines of my chest-pieces then drags her hands down my torso. She undoes my belt and unbuttons my jeans.
I take her hands as I stand. She pushes my jeans off my hips. I find the zipper on the side of her dress and pull it down. She looks up at me with a mix of trust and trepidation.
What is it she's afraid of and why is she trying to pretend like it's nothing?
Dammit, I know Violet pulls this shit with everyone else. I keep forgetting she pulls it with me too.
We're not together. She's not mine. She doesn't trust me.
But she will. I'm making sure of that.
I push the straps of her dress off her shoulders. She reaches behind her back to unhook her bra. Slowly, she peels it off her shoulders. Her eyes stay glued to mine as she drops the bra on the floor in front of me.
She pushes her dress and underwear off her hips and steps out of it. Her hands go to my hips. She shoves my jeans to my knees. I know she's trying to distract me from whatever it is she's hiding, but I can't exactly complain about her tactics.
Violet is the first to step into the water. She bites her lip. Her eyes find mine. "It's hot." She kneels down to turn the faucet off.
I kick off my jeans and boxers and step into the bathtub. We lower ourselves into the water together. It is hot. But good hot.
She presses her back into my chest and stretches her legs out in front of her. "This is a ridiculously large bathtub."
"Enough room for four."
"Have you tried that?"
"No."
"Never done three girls at once?"
"No." I turn so I can look into her eyes. "What are you getting at?"
"Nothing. Thinking. Or trying not to think."
"I don't do stuff like this with other women."
"All wham, bam, thank you ma'am?"
It's not the most flattering description, but I'm not shy about the truth. I nod. "If there's anything you want to get out, let's do it now. I've been a slut. Most of the time, I don't remember women's names. I don't kiss them. I don't think about them after. Any other questions?"
Her voice wavers. "You don't kiss other women?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"Don't want to." I pull her closer. "That's not what's bothering you."
"What's bothering me?"
"Why don't you tell me."
Her shoulders and back tense. "It's nothing… It shouldn't… I shouldn't…" She takes a deep breath. She runs her hands over the edges of the bathtub.
"Talk to me, honey."
"I'm not your honey anymore." A sob breaks up her words. She pushes her body away from mine and pulls her arms over her chest. "It's not about you being a slut. Or about anything to do with us. It's nothing."
"It's something."
She turns to me. There are tears rolling down her cheeks. Still, she shakes her head.
Tears catch on her lashes as she blinks. She splashes her face with water. That does nothing to hide the redness forming in her eyes.
Something is hurting her.
I take her hand. "Talk to me, Violet."
She shakes her head.
"What is it?"
She pulls her hand into her chest. Her eyes go to her hand, then to me. There are six inches of bubbles on the surface of the water. She scoops a handful and blows them over the room.
Her lips press together. Her eyes close. She's trying to fight the tears, but it's not happening.
"I should go," she whispers.
I grab her harder than I should. "No."
"What do you mean no?"
"You're not leaving naked and crying."
"I'm putting on clothes first." She shakes me off and pushes herself out of the bathtub. She pulls her dress over her head and marches out of the bathroom.
What the hell?
There are footsteps as she grabs her purse in the bedroom.
"I'll see you later. After the show." Her voice breaks. "On the bus. I don't know. Just later."
The door slams shut behind her.
It's just like before.
She's locking me out.
She's walking away from me.
Not this time.
This time, I'm going after her.
Chapter Twenty
Violet
God dammit, I'm covered in soapy bubbles. My dress is sticking to my skin. My bra and underwear are lost somewhere in Ethan's room.
I dig through my purse for my room key. My fingers are too slick. I can barely get a grip. There. I've got it.
Beep, beep. The door unlocks. I shove it open and let it swing shut on its own.
I need out of this dress. I need out of my entire fucking body. Everything hurts again. This isn't what baths with my… whatever I should call Ethan, whatever I call our relationship, this isn't how it's supposed to go.
My eyes sting. Tears or soap, I'm not sure. I can do something about the latter. The former is a lost cause.
I step into the bathroom, throw my dress over my head, and turn on the shower. No waiting for the water to heat up. I need every bit of that bath washed off my skin.
Fuck, it's cold. But that's how it should feel. The water pounds into my chest and face. It hurts but that's nothing compared to how much my heart aches.
Memories flood my mind.
That's how I found him, in that bathtub. His eyes were closed. The expression on his face was serene, like he was finally at peace. But the rest of it… the gashes on his wrists… the blood.
There was so much blood.
He was already cold.
He was already gone.
I sink to my heels and let the water pound my back. Asher was my twin brother. I should have known he needed help. I should have listened. I should have seen the signs.
How could I fail him like that?
How could he do that to me? He knew our parents were away that weekend. He knew I'd be the one to find him.
A sob rises up in my throat. But it's okay. There's no one here. I can cry until my tear ducts are empty.
I pull my legs into my chest and bury my head between my knees.
There's a voice in my room. The water is muffling it but there's no doubt that's a voice.
Shit.
"Violet."
That's Ethan.
I pull my knees closer. He shouldn't see me like this. No one should see me like this. I should tell him to go away. I should throw the nearest object at the door to scare him off.
But I don't want to.
I don't want him to go.
I want him here. I want the comfort of his arms around me. I want to spill all the messy details until someone understands.
No, until Ethan understands.
He pushes the bathroom door open. His eye corners turn down. His expression fills with concern.
"Vi." He pulls the shower door open and steps inside. Water pounds his head and chest, soaking his t-shirt. He kneels next to me.
"You should go," I whisper.
He pulls me into his arms.
"You're getting wet."
"I like getting wet with you." He cups the back of my head with his hand.
I rest my head on his chest. "I don't want you to go."
"I know." He runs his fingers through my wet hair an
d pulls me closer. "Asher?"
I nod. "I… I found him in the bathtub. He'd slit his wrists. There was all this blood. I didn't know the human body had that much blood." Tears roll down my cheeks. "I should have known he was hurting like that… I was supposed to protect him."
"It's okay, Vi." He wipes the tears from my cheeks. "You couldn't have stopped him."
I shake my head. "I should have known he was hurting. He was always so exhausted. He was always talking about how he didn't know how he'd keep up his practice schedule. I should have done something."
He pulls me closer.
"I was supposed to protect him."
"I know it hurts, honey. I know it feels like it was your fault, but it wasn't. He was an adult. He knew he could give up piano. He was a smart guy. He had options. Your parents would have supported him. And I know you'd have helped him too. You'd have done anything for Asher." His blue eyes fill with understanding. "I know it doesn't help, me telling you it wasn't your fault. But it wasn't, Vi. You were a good sister."
I shake my head. "I got so jealous of him. He had all of Mom and Dad's attention. Since I was fourteen. They tried to keep things even, they tried to keep up the family events, they tried to include me in all of Asher's piano stuff, but he always ended up with more attention. He always needed something— a ride to his piano lessons, time for his recitals, someone to calm him down when he worked himself into a tizzy. I knew he was troubled and that I shouldn't have been jealous, but I was. I was jealous of his abilities too. I never could get the hang of piano. I was never as good at anything as he was at playing the piano."
He runs his fingers through my hair.
"I hated him as much as I loved him. He must have known. He didn't trust me… that's why he didn't tell me."
"Everybody hates their siblings sometimes. Fuck, I hate Mal all the time." Ethan intertwines his fingers with mine. "I know it hurts. I know there's nothing I can say to make it hurt less. But it wasn't your fault that Asher killed himself. You don't have to throw yourself on his funeral pyre. You deserve to be happy again. You deserve to have fun."
The words are convincing on his lips. I want to believe it. God how I want to believe it.
"It's gonna be okay, honey. I know it doesn't feel like that now, but one day it's gonna hurt less."
"How do you know?"
"I know every inch of you. You're strong enough to survive anything." He presses his lips to my forehead and he wraps his arms around me.
We sit there in that shower, water pounding against our heads and shoulders. He holds me until I haven't got a single tear left.
With Ethan's arms around me, I really do feel like I'm strong enough.
I really do believe it will hurt less tomorrow.
Chapter Twenty-One
Violet
I barely have the energy to stand, much less finish washing up. Ethan keeps his arms around my waist. His touch is sweet and affectionate as he shampoos and conditions my hair, runs soap over every inch of my body, and rinses me off.
This, Ethan holding me with all the affection in the world, is everything I wanted.
No, it's still everything I want.
I try to push my thoughts out of my mind. I'm too tired to think. I want to feel.
Ethan wraps a towel around my chest, finishes stripping to nothing, and leads me to the bed. He nestles into the spot behind me, his hard body warm against mine.
His arm goes to my waist. He pulls me closer. My towel is in the way of our torsos connecting, but I can feel his hands, his chest, his legs, his breath on my neck, his lips brushing my ears.
I can feel his heartbeat.
It's steady.
His breath too.
My heart is in overdrive. I take a long, slow breath, hold it for as long as I can, exhale as slowly as I can. He's calm, at peace, like he's exactly where he belongs.
Something stirs in my chest. It's not lust. It's not fun. It's not even close to platonic.
I remind myself about our arrangement—one week of fun, then we both walk. I can't get mixed up. I can't fall for Ethan. He's here with me now, yeah, but he's not going to stick around when I'm back in school. He's not going to rearrange his life for me.
He's going to do what he did last time. He's going to throw me away as soon as I'm inconvenient.
Damn, I can't do this. I can't fall in love with Ethan. I can't hand him my heart.
This needs to stay fun.
I take another deep breath, but that does nothing to soothe me. It feels good being in his arms. It's everything I ever wanted. Everything I still want.
My eyes go to the clock. We're into evening now. That buys me something. I try to keep my voice steady, so I won't give away how terrified I am of my feelings for him. "Don't you have to go to the sound check?"
"Mal's going to fill in for me."
"At the show?"
"No." He runs his fingers through my hair. "He would, but he can't play rhythm and lead at the same time."
"Oh." My attempts to breathe steadily aren't working. Ethan is staying with me instead of going to the sound check. That's not like him.
No, it's only a sound check. It's not like he's skipping the show or even practice. There's no reason why he has to be at the sound check.
It doesn't mean anything.
He presses his palm against my shoulder. "I have another few hours." His lips hover over my ear. "I can go if you want to be alone."
I play with the threads of the towel. I don't want to be alone. Not now, not later, not when I get back to New York.
But I only get Ethan now. I can't get ideas about later.
Later isn't happening.
I need to move this back to sex and fun or my ideas about later are going to build to engagement rings, ivory dresses, and frolicking on the beach in Hawaii.
"No, stay." I peel my towel off and toss it aside. "I want you here." I take his hand and place it on my stomach.
A soft groan escapes his lips. He pulls me closer. He shifts his hips to press his crotch against my ass.
I grind against him until I feel him hardening.
He's hesitant. Hard to blame him. This really isn't the time. He should be holding me, stroking my hair, and whispering that it's going to be okay.
My eyelids press together. I want Ethan holding me, stroking my hair, and whispering that it's going to be okay. I want him whispering I love you, Violet. I want him making plans with me. I want us making plans together. I want us to be a team again.
I can't have that.
But I can have this.
He slides his arms around my shoulders to turn me around. He stares into my eyes, picking apart my intentions. Is it obvious that I'm running from my feelings again?
It must be.
He runs his fingers over my cheek and jaw. "Vi…" He presses his forehead against mine.
"Please." I run my fingers through his hair. "I need you."
His stare is a challenge. Do you need me or do you need me to fuck you?
I wish I only needed sex. I wish I only wanted his body.
I'd never lie to Ethan. Never. Every word of this is the truth. "I need you, Ethan. I need you like I need oxygen."
"Vi…" He plants a soft, sweet kiss on my lips.
Damn, he tastes good. He's mercilessly slow about sliding his tongue into my mouth. He's still hesitant.
I do need him like I need oxygen.
All of him.
Dammit, this whole have sex with Ethan in the hopes of forgetting I'm falling in love with Ethan thing isn't working. It's a stupid plan, now that I think about it. It sounded better in my head.
It's still sounding really fucking appealing.
His hand goes to my leg and hooks it around his. Thoughts of a plan slip away. All my intentions of pulling back to protect my heart fall away.
When our kiss breaks, I press my forehead to his. I mean to say something dirty and demanding. Make me come on your face, baby. But those words won't get anywhere n
ear my lips.
My gaze meets Ethan's. "You make me feel alive. Not just my body. Every part of me feels alive around you. Like it's okay to feel good." So I'm terrible at dirty talk. I'll work on it. From the softness in his eyes and the hardness between his legs, I think it's working. "Make me feel good."
"Vi…"
"Don't make me beg."
The look in his eyes screams I want you to beg.
God, when he looks at me like that, I want to beg.
We're both naked. There isn't much I can do in terms of stripping seductively.
I hold Ethan's gaze as I slide my hand down his torso. My fingers brush that soft tuft of pubic hair. Then they're on his cock.
His eyelids press together as he groans.
"Fuck me, Ethan. Please. I want you inside me." I stroke him. "I want to come on your cock."
He groans. When his eyes open, they connect with mine. Something in his expression shifts. He's still concerned about me, but he's also ravenous with desire.
He needs this too.
I press my lips to his. He kisses back hard and deep. His hands go to my hips and hold my body in place against his.
His cock strains against me. I pull back as I wince. Ethan is huge and I'm not warmed up yet.
He pushes himself to his forearms. His eyes lock with mine. "Look me in the eyes, Vi."
I do.
"Tell me you want to feel pleasure."
"I do."
"That you deserve every fucking ounce of pleasure in the world."
That's harder. I take a deep breath to fight the anxiety spreading to my limbs. "I… I don't know."
"You do." He drags his lips over my neck. "You don't believe it yet. But you will." His tongue flicks against my nipple. "This is for me." He teases me again and again. "Because I want to watch you writhe under me. Because I want to hear you scream my name. Because I want you more than I've ever wanted anything."
"Ethan, please."
"Beg me."
"Please fuck me. Please make me feel good."
His voice is heavy, breathy. "Fuck, Vi." He looks up at me, his eyes filled with all the desire in the world, then his lips are on my chest. He plays with one nipple. Then the other.
Tempting Page 45
