Violet Addiction (13 page)

“Yes,” I said without hesitation.

“But you didn’t.”

“No,” I agreed.

“Because I was here sitting beside you?”

“Partly.”

“Or because you are too smart and too strong to allow yourself to travel back down that road.”

“Maybe,” I admitted in a quiet voice.

“Exactly. It wouldn’t have made any difference if I was at home, wrapped in my snuggly, studying without all this blasted noise.” She slammed her laptop closed. “You don’t need a fucking buffer anymore, Violet. You are too freaking good for that. Time to put on your big girl panties, lady. I’m going home.” She stood and walked away. She just walked away, no hesitation in her stride, no backwards glance.

“One water and one cloudy apple juice.” The waiter was back. I took the drinks and set them down. Grabbing my iPhone, I sent Mya a text message.

So much for getting me laid.

Her reply chirped back so fast I hadn’t even had time to put my phone down.

Michael would do anything to get in your pants. U don’t need me.

I sighed. I would rather go home and enjoy the pleasant buzz of my hand held orgasm.

“Come on, Violet, let’s go celebrate. That gig was awesome! We’ll even buy you virgin Bloody Marys,” Ricky begged. I pulled my coat over my shoulders as the guys loaded the last of our equipment in the van.

“Next time, I promise.” The second half of our performance had gone flawlessly, painfully boring, but flawless nevertheless. No one else had offered me a drink, and I felt in control. As Mya had said, I was too strong to head back down the path that had offered me nothing but pain, interrupted by the drug induced moments of buzzing energy that accompanied a high.

“Forget her, Ricky, we’re out of here,” Neil called from the driver’s seat of the van. Yep, no love lost there. I knew he was more than happy to party on without me. Ricky gave me a quick hug before jumping in the vehicle that had already begun to roll away from the curb. I pulled my coat tight around my neck as I stood alone on the footpath in front of the hotel. I pulled my cell phone from my pocket to call a cab. I was going home, alone. It was a cool evening; it would have been nice to think I was going home to curl up with the warmth of a man. Better yet, it would have been nice to walk back into the hotel and score a hit. Just one line, one little last hurrah. My eyes flickered shut under the need, and my body tightened with the lingering memory of how good it felt to let go of all control.

“Violet?” My closed eyes sprung open with surprise. Before me stood Peiro, dressed in a grey suit much the same as the one he wore on the day I first met him. His hair was brushed off his forehead, and a day’s growth of dark stubble highlighted the curve of his jaw. He didn’t smile though, if anything, he looked worried. What the hell was he doing here? My brow furrowed.

“How did you get here?” I wondered. He smiled, adding that youthful playfulness I knew he carried under the business persona.

“I do believe it began with a consummation of love between a man and a woman.”

I snorted loudly. “Not here, I mean here.” I opened my hands to gesture to the street around us.

“Oh, well, this one begins with a taxi ride which took me to a plane…”

“What are you doing here, in New York?” I laughed. Peiro took a tentative step forward, his smile still in place.

“I had business here. I am only in town for the evening. I was going to try and stay away, but after seeing you perform, I needed to see you up close. You have an exquisite voice, Tesoro, a true angelo.”

“You saw me?” I whispered.

Peiro nodded towards the hotel I had performed in. “I did. I made a wise choice in recommending your services for the fundraiser.”

My mouth dropped open. “This is one of yours?” My eyes darted to the opulent hotel.

“It belongs to my family, so I guess it is partly mine.”

“You booked us for tonight?”

“No, I simply recommended you and your band to the event planner.” I stared at Peiro in stunned silence. “I must admit, Tesoro, I am finding it difficult to wait for you. I am trying to give you the space you need to find your way, but I want so very much to touch you, to make you mine.” My mouth remained agape. “You will catch flies,” Peiro quietly joked. I took a small step forward, and the heat of his body enveloped me. While my heart ached for another, my body craved touch and affection.

“Come home with me,” I murmured. It was Peiro’s turn to look shocked. “Just for tonight, please.” His shock turned to disappointment which he quickly hid under his usual playful smile.

“Do you think one night would be enough for me to have my fill, Tesoro?”

“I just need to feel again, Peiro, something is missing in here.” I pressed my hand to my heart. “I feel empty. I just want to feel something again, even if it’s for one night.” Peiro raised his hand and placed it over mine.

“I don’t think it is me that is missing from here though, Violet.” I closed my eyes and willed myself not to cry. Peiro’s warm, soft lips covered mine, a whisper of a kiss. “But I foolishly find myself prepared to take whatever you can spare me. You are quite addictive, and I find myself willing to do anything for a brief moment of your warmth.” His hand enveloped mine before pulling me toward the valet service. A sleek grey Lexus was pulled to a stop before us, and Peiro held the door open for me. The drive to my home was filled with me giving directions and Peiro concentrating on the unfamiliar streets. Before I knew it, he was standing in my messy room. A wealthy man of such sheer perfection was standing in my modest and incredibly untidy space.

“I wasn’t expecting guests,” I muttered as I kicked my clothes aside in an attempt to find some space on the floor. Peiro took possession of my hand, halting me from my halfhearted attempt to make the mess disappear. His fingers tenderly ran the course of my cheek.

“I am glad you weren’t expecting anyone,” he whispered before kissing me. Any chance to be embarrassed by the disarray of my room was lost under Peiro’s passion. He didn’t give me a chance to regret inviting him into my home, no chance to back out, though if I had said no, he would have stopped in a heartbeat. Instead, he carefully disrobed me like I was a priceless piece of art, his hungry gaze soaking up every inch of skin, his gentle hands memorizing every curve. When he laid me on my bed, he licked and kissed every inch of me before entering me with one long, smooth thrust. He moved like a man worshipping the woman he loves, showing me how he felt with actions rather than words. I clutched at his shoulders as he thrust into me with demanding strokes, his movements becoming almost desperate, and when my body finally exploded with delightful tingles, Peiro followed close behind. Once my racing heart had slowed, the reality of what I had done began to creep in, turning my warmth to cold. This was wrong, leading Peiro on like this. I wanted to want him with all my heart, but it just wasn’t there. He was handsome, rich, playful, compassionate, everything a woman should need and want, every woman accept me.

“Don’t think, Tesoro, just feel,” Peiro murmured, wrapping his body around mine. I fell asleep wrapped in guilty warmth. I’d worry about tomorrow when it came.

When tomorrow did come, it was with a loud pounding on the apartment door which I ignored. Peiro was still beside me, fast asleep. He looked so relaxed and unassuming. I smiled and closed my eyes with every intention of going back to sleep when the door to my bedroom swung open.

“Holy shit,” whispered Mya. I glanced at her as she carefully shut the door, while she remained in the room. In a pathetic attempt to shield mine and Peiro’s nudity, she raised a hand to her eyes. Somehow she managed to tiptoe to my side of the bed without falling over the mess that covered my floor. “You got laid? Who the fuck is that?” she hissed.

“Not Michael,” I whispered.

“Fair enough, I know it’s not Cain because he’s currently in our kitchen,” she said sarcastically. I bolted upright, the sheet slipping down to expose my breasts. “Shit, Violet,” Mya’s eyes clamped shut.

“You do realize you have them as well,” I snapped. “What the hell do you mean Cain is in our kitchen? Cain doesn’t even know where I live!”

“I have no idea how he found you or why he is here. What I do know is that he’s as boiled as an owl.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” I asked as I quickly found some clothes on the floor to pull on.

“Drunk, blind, rotten drunk!”

“Cain’s here?” came a husky voice from behind us that made us both stop in our tracks like a pair of guilty school girls.

“Apparently,” I nervously confessed as Peiro slowly sat up.

Mya tried valiantly not to look at his naked perfection.

“What time is it?” Peiro asked.

“A little after eight,” Mya answered, still averting her gaze even though the really good stuff was hidden behind a sheet.

“La maledizione, I have a ten o’clock flight. I have to get moving.” Mya glanced at Peiro just as he stood, the sheet finally falling away to reveal the perfection of his olive skinned backside. Mya squeaked in terror as she quickly exited the room. I tied my hair up into a messy ponytail.

“I’m sorry about this. I haven’t seen Cain in months,” I quickly explained. Peiro knew most of this though. Our conversations had grown more intimate and honest with distance. It was easy to talk to him about things like Cain when he wasn’t physically here.

“I know, Tesoro. This is something you need to deal with, and I have a flight,” he said as he quickly dressed in the suit he had folded over the back of my chair. He left his shirt untucked, his tie hanging freely around his neck. “I’m just going to use the bathroom before I leave.” I nodded and left Peiro to take care of his bathroom needs while I smoothed down my crinkled shirt and left the bedroom.

My heart was thumping like a jackhammer by the time I navigated the short hallway and entered the large living space. Mya stood with her backpack on. It was Sunday study; she would be gone all day. My eyes moved to Cain, who was indeed boiled as an owl. He was disheveled, his hair a tangled mess around his shoulders, his face holding more than a weeks’ worth of stubble. He was as striking as ever, even in his chaotic disorder.

“Cain?” He went from moving hurriedly around my kitchen, collecting what I think was the ingredients to make pancakes to perfectly still in the blink of an eye. He slowly turned to face me. It was difficult to judge his emotions; he seemed almost frantic. When his gaze moved to a figure behind me, I knew Peiro had made his entrance.

“I need to get moving if I want to make my flight.” Without an ounce of shame or hesitation, Peiro took my hand and gently tugged me forward, pressing a heated kiss to my lips which I automatically responded to. “Parleremo ancora presto, Tesoro,” he murmured. Once again, I had no idea what he had said, apart from tesoro—treasure.

“I’m off to study group,” Mya muttered, moving to the door at the same time as Peiro. Once they had both quietly escaped the apartment, I turned back to face Cain. He looked furious, which made me furious. What the hell did he expect of me? He was as good as married, and I wasn’t allowed to move on?

“How did you know I lived here?” I demanded.

“I didn’t realize it was a secret,” he scowled.

“It’s not, not from you anyway. I just prefer that certain elements of my past don’t know where I live.”

Cain’s eyes softened ever so slightly. “Harry told me. I had to bribe him; he didn’t give the information willingly.” I moved cautiously to the kitchen and sat on one of the stools as Cain went back to making himself comfortable in my home.

“You look like shit,” I admitted.

“I don’t ever recall telling you that you looked like shit following one of your benders.” He pushed a glass of juice my way before helping himself.

“You didn’t have to tell me, I knew it.”

Cain snorted. “Well, suffice it to say that I am more than aware I look like shit. Annabelle told me as much several days ago.” I cringed at the mention of Annabelle, and my eyes dropped to his left hand. No ring. “We’re not married, yet.” Cain confirmed when he noticed my gaze. “Though now that she is pregnant I guess I’ll have to remedy that immediately.” I think I stopped breathing. “She’s about eight weeks along and wants to keep it. Fucking hell, I’m not even able to commit to a date to our wedding, how the fuck am I going to cope with being a father?” He began mixing the pancake batter a little too vigorously in his anger. My head was a whirl of chaotic thoughts, and my heart was hurting.

“You don’t want children?” I somehow managed to ask through a voice tight with emotion. I don’t know what I was more upset about, the fact that Cain was having a child with someone else, or the thought he might not want them, ever. I wanted children. There was a time when I didn’t, when the thought of passing my toxic lifestyle onto a child sickened me, but now…now I wanted kids. Lots of them. Cain didn’t answer right away, instead he focused every ounce of his concentration on the pancake mix. He swayed a little as he stood there, the smell of alcohol strong.

“I don’t want Annabelle,” he eventually confessed. I didn’t move, didn’t speak, if I didn’t have the need for oxygen, I probably wouldn’t have breathed. “Do you have blueberries?” he asked with a nonchalance that would have suggested we were talking about how ridiculous Justin Bieber’s latest album was and not his impending future. It wasn’t like Cain to place such little value on something so important, and now he had a child to add to the mix. He needed to snap out of this and deal with the consequences from the choices he had made, much like I had to do in rehab.