“Go fuck yourself,” he hisses.
“Mase…” Violet pleads, but he’s already storming away, surprisingly steady despite how unstable he was just a moment earlier. Turning towards me, Violet places her hands on her hips. “What the fuck was that about?”
“Nothing,” I say dismissively. “Go back to the others.”
I can see Frankie and Jack eyeing me cautiously. Still on the dance floor, Barret and Cal have stopped dancing and are staring at me just as intently. Testing me, perhaps? Testing my loyalty? Why am I suddenly overthinking this?
Cursing, I pound a fist against my head, and Violet’s eyes immediately widen in alarm.
“Vin?” She takes a step towards me, but I automatically step back. She can’t touch me, not here, not where my father can see her. The Van Helsings have eyes and ears everywhere. Nowhere is safe from their gossiping maws.
Without bothering to respond—and ignoring the crestfallen expression on her face—I turn on my heel and walk swiftly out of the cafeteria. It’s only when I’m outside, eagerly taking in lungfuls of fresh air, do I break into a run.
Faster. Faster. Faster.
“Vin, dammit!” Violet screams. “Get back here! I’m not in the fucking mood to—” There’s a loud thump followed by a muffled curse. And then, “I’m okay!”
I make it to my house in record speed, grabbing my key from my pocket and opening the front door. Before I can close it, Violet sticks her foot in the frame, expression positively livid. I can’t help but snort at the dirt smeared on her cheeks and the twig in her hair. It looks as if she’s partaken in a fierce battle with a fucking forest…and lost.
“You don’t get to run from me,” she huffs, shoving the door open even further with her vampire strength. “Not again. You fucking promised.”
“I promise a lot of things,” I murmur, finally stepping away and allowing her entry. I feel unnaturally tired. My eyelids droop as I unknot my tie and allow it to sit over my shoulders. “Just…just go away.”
“No,” she replies stubbornly. Of fucking course. Because things can’t be easy with her, right?
We’re gasoline and fire. Every time we clash, an explosion is left in our wake. This type of relationship can’t be healthy, but it’s the only type I’ve ever known. It’s the only type I want.
If she’s fire, I’ll happily burn for just a moment in her presence.
“No?” I quirk a brow as I slide off my jacket, draping it over the back of my armchair.
“No,” she repeats. Shouldering past me, she sits on the edge of the fading brown leather seat, her hands clasped primly together in her lap. “You’re hurting, Vin. I’m not stupid. I know it has something to do with your parents. Did they find out about me and you? Did they threaten you?” Her eyes flash in the ambient silver glow of the moon from the open window. It’s the only light currently on in the house, the only light I feel comfortable in.
There’s a lot that can happen in the darkness. It’s a place where you can strip bare, where no one can judge you or tell you that you’re wrong. People crave the darkness because the light is too much for them to handle.
And me?
I only crave one thing, and she’s currently sitting in front of me.
“Violet, not now,” I sigh, undoing the buttons of my dress shirt.
“I said it before, and I’ll say it again—no. We’re not doing this today, Vin. Tomorrow, the Roaring is going to start, and we have no idea what will happen to either of us. We could die—”
“Nothing is going to fucking happen to you,” I hiss, glaring at the poisonous package wrapped up in beauty and silk. Underneath that immaculate front is a bomb seconds from detonating.
“Tonight, we’re not monsters. We’re not a Dracula and a Van Helsing. We’re just…us, okay?” She bites on her lower lip, and though she doesn’t mean for that gesture to be coy, I can’t help the heat that flares down below. “And for tonight only, you’re going to give up control.”
“What?” I bite out as she rises gracefully to her feet and steps forward. One hand rests on my bare chest while the other fingers the sleeves of my shirt.
“Trust me,” she whispers breathily, staring into my eyes. I gulp heavily, my pulse skittering the longer I maintain eye contact. But, fuck, I can’t look away. “Give me control. Let me take care of you.”
“What will you have me do…mistress?”
CHAPTER 25
VIOLET
My panties instantly dampen at hearing that one word leave Vin’s wickedly cruel mouth.
Licking my lower lip, I remove my hand from his chest and sit back down in the armchair. I feel like a queen on a throne—powerful and imperious, the world at my fingertips to do with as I please.
“Strip for me,” I instruct, greedily lapping up every inch of bare skin already exposed. “Slowly.”
Vin swallows once more, a muscle in his jaw working, but he does as I say. He needs this just as much—if not more—than I do.
Keeping his eyes on me, he slowly slides the dress shirt off his shoulders, the fabric pooling around his feet. His skin is heavily tanned, a product, I’m sure, of all the time he spends outside. Tattoos climb down the sides of his chest and cover both his arms. Fuck, he’s a work of art.
And he’s mine.
I feel selfish and possessive of this beautiful man with the haunted eyes. No one else is allowed to see him. No one else is allowed to set their gaze upon the artwork etched across his skin.
He brings his hands to his dress pants and slowly removes his belt. My eyes latch on where it lands on the ground, a thousand possibilities racing through my head. He hooks his thumbs into the waistband and pushes them down, making quick work of stepping out of them. If it was me, I would be
