PATSY POV:Baron had thought he was being funny, tormenting me and trying to wrest control from my hands. Now it was time for him to see just how cruel a woman could be!By the time I’d washed the majority of his body, his cock was throbbing, a bead of precum pooling at his slit. I licked my lips, fighting the urge to take him in my mouth and taste him for the first time. Instead, I soaped up my hand, took hold of him, and began to stroke his cock.Baron moaned, his hands balling into fists. When I looked up to see him chewing on his bottom lip, I grinned. So far, my plan was working just as expected. Now it was time to make him beg, just as he’d done to me.I continued to stroke him, using one hand on his cock and the other to gently fondle his balls. As he continued to moan, low and soft, I tightened my grip on his shaft. Now his body began to tremble, his moans growing louder by the second.Grinning up at him, I released his shaft and stood up, making him groan as I did so. I
PATSY POV:I was lying on the bed with my legs wide spread when Baron walked in and stared at me lustfully with a cocky grin. “Miss me, did you?”“More than you can imagine!” I closed my legs, then hopped off the bed, walking over to him. “So, what’d you bring? I’m starved!”He laughed and I shook my head. So much for missing him! But we can’t keep doing it, my stomach growled, I couldn’t blame him. We had done our best to work up an appetite this morning, not to mention last night!“Pancakes, eggs, sausage, and bacon,” Baron said with a grin. “And a large hot cocoa for each of us to help wash it down. Figured that’d give us enough food to last until dinner time.”At his words, I raised an eyebrow and grinned. “Oh? Have a big day planned for us, do you?”“You bet!” He said, slapping my ass.I squeaked, then punched him in the arm. “Well then, you better get those clothes off. I wouldn’t want you getting syrup on them. It’ll be much easier to lick it off you if you’re naked.”Then I
PATSY POV:I don’t know how long I’ve been sleeping, but when I wake up the next day all sore, I smell bacon cooking.Stretching, I open my eyes, and the sun pours in through the windows. Sitting up, I turned to find Baron but he was nowhere.I pulled over his shirt and then got out of the room.I find Baron in the kitchen, such a surprise.“Sun’s out.” I smile.“No more rain.” He smiles back. “At least for now. I hope you’re hungry.”“Since when do you cook for yourself?” I joined him in the kitchen. He’s already made toast and a fruit salad. I pluck a piece of pineapple and suggestively slide it into my mouth.“Just because I have a private chef – several private chefs – doesn’t mean I don’t know how to cook.”“I thought that was exactly what it meant.” I laugh. He leans in to kiss me, but I shake my head. “No. Morning breath.”“Don’t be silly,” he laughs. “As if I care.”“No, seriously. You might not care, but I care. I’ll be back in a minute.”I wink and then turn to leave, “Don’
PATSY POV:“If you’d come with us please.”Another officer announces. “Make it easier on everyone.”“A warrant?” I turn and look up at my daddy, shocked by what I’ve just heard. “What are they talking about, Baron?”His face is stony and unmoving. It’s a look I’ve not seen before.“What are the charges?” he asks.One of the officers glances down at me before answering. “If you’d just come with us we could discuss it in private—”“The charges,” Baron presses. The officer sighs and shrugs.“Sexual assault of the first degree.”My stomach drops.My first instinct was to protect him. But now…knowing what I know about him and how we met, I’m seized by a fierce panic that grips my body in a cold embrace. My mind starts spinning, as though my skull was full of fuzz, and although I’m chilled to my bones, a fear of sweat breaks out across my body.Sexual assault…I don’t want to believe it, but can I really deny it could be possible after what happened between us? Baron must know how I’m fee
PATSY POV:It was a day full of disaster and if things couldn’t get any worse the night also started to appear like a disaster when I heard the door slamming shut and loud footsteps.Frowning, I move into my sleep.With utter difficulty, I was able to close my eyes and shut this world’s worries out of my mind but this universe won’t let me have peace.NO…Annoyed, I sat up from my bed wanting to yell out loud that stop f**king my mother, rascal Jeff.But when I reached the stairs, finally I saw what an impulsive decision I made.My mother was at the coffee table, a man was kissing her, while the other was taking off her skirt, and the third one was working to take off her blouse.My eyes widened at the sight of three men stripping my mother.The man kissing my mom grunts and only then do I notice my mother’s hand squeezing his cock over the clothes.Then she turned to give her mouth to the other men, while one squeezed her hand around his cock, the other kissed her while molding her b
PATSY POV:I need evidence. Evidence that she lied about him. But how am I supposed to get that?The whole night went into thinking and planning.Thankfully the scenes from downstairs were quiet and I heard the noise of the car engine which indicated that those four monsters had gone.After my hard work, and the distressing thoughts of my plans.Slowly, a smile creeps over my face. It just might work, and if it does, Daddy will be so proud of me.All of our problems will be gone in one fell swoop, and I’ll be his forever.A deep, deep feeling swells within me. A feeling so intense I don’t even want to acknowledge it lest it slips away like a drop of rain on the window glass.Now, with a burning flame of determination inside me.****The Next MorningWiping away the haze on the mirror, I stare at myself for a long time as I summon all my determination and willpower and squeeze it into a tiny, dense ball of passion.“You can do this, Patsy,” I tell myself with a deep breath. “You can. Y
PATSY POV:Two days after that, my mom signed the divorce papers.She moved out, and the last I heard from her, she was living with Mr. HNG8NCH. We don’t speak anymore, and I’m just fine with that.Baron sold the house, and we moved into the one he’d taken me to that one sunny day we had together before the police arrived. We made love the night he was released, twice, then again the next day. And again and again, as though we couldn’t get enough of each other. We couldn’t.Two weeks later I was pregnant.Baron’s tongue is beyond incredible. Within a minute, I’m soaring high as my climax grips me. My back arches up off my artist’s table, and I tug my shirt up to expose my breasts. He reaches up and pinches my nipples, just hard enough to hurt, and I cry out in ecstasy. A shudder runs through my body as he flattens his tongue and applies pressure. He holds it there just long enough, letting me come down before he rises up and pulls his pants down.“There it is,” I whisper, opening
NEW STORY -- NEW PLOT -- NEW CHARACTERSGREYSONThe cash slides from my palm into the valet. His fingers curl around the wad of bills as he pulls back, and he looks away.Aw, he’s embarrassed.The girl on my arm giggles and leans into me.Money and good looks will help people get away with just about anything. I learned that at the tender age of five from my father, thank you very much. He toted me around and flashed his smile or his wealth, and doors opened for us.Sometimes literally.Sometimes figuratively.We were invincible.Look at that sentence. Then read it again.We.Were. Invincible.Back when I was a kid, my father and I wore gilded armor. He was a king, and I was a prince. We floated above the rest of society, and nothing was out of our reach.I experienced the world through my father’s view of getting everything he fucking wanted. It’s only natural that I became him.Look, I’m not saying it’s right. I’m just saying this is how it works. People are sheep, all too eager to be
VIOLET“Time to wake up,” Greyson says in my ear.I open my eyes and blink rapidly, trying to make sense of where we are. Not on the sidewalk anymore, that’s for sure. The air is warm, absent of a breeze. I’m sitting with my arms over my head. I tug, but they don’t move. Something holds firm around my wrists.A rattling to my right draws my attention. He stands at a wall of windows, pulling a chain to open the vertical blinds. We’re in the dance studio, and the lights are off. My eyes catch on myself in the mirror, but it’s hard to reconcile what I’m seeing with the truth.I’m naked to my waist, my wrists tied to the bar just over my head. My skin pricks, goosebumps rising on my flesh. I force my attention away, back to Greyson. He still stands by the large windows, but his attention is now on me. He’s got the blinds open. Moonlight streams in.“What are you doing?” I scoot backward until I’m as upright as I can be. My back bumps into the wall, and I tilt my head back to get a better
GREYSONViolet, Violet, Violet.I can smell her sweet, floral scent in my room like she rubbed herself along my walls and my sheets. There’s no imprint. No sign of her at all except for the smell. Something I don’t think I could concoct in my imagination.I sit on my bed and inhale again, not wanting to exhale.My father calls me. I consider sending it to voicemail, but the last time I did that, he showed up at my game.Him. At a game.I haven’t seen him witness me play in years, let alone speak to me after the fact. It probably has something to do with our clashing reputations. Can a beloved senator really have a bloodthirsty hockey player for a son?Since our next game is at home, I don’t want to risk that. Coach Roake acted like he walked on water, and I was once again reminded of the complex power my father holds. It goes far beyond his domain of New York.I don’t know if there’s a place his influence can’t reach.“Hey, Dad.”“Greyson,” he greets me. Brisk and businesslike, even t
“When did you get here, Violet?” Paris asks.I tilt my head. “What?”“When. Did. You. Get. Here?”Greyson snorts. “She’s more welcome than you.”You know… when I want him to stick it to her, he doesn’t. He lets her climb all over him and sit close and flirt and fawn. And when I’d rather be anywhere but here, he tells her to shove it.Lovely.“Grey,” she tries.Oh, hell no. “You did not just call him that.”Her expression darkens. “Why, did you lay claim to that nickname?”I cross my arms. “As a matter of fact, I did.”Jesus. Who would’ve thought I’d be arguing about a nickname… this whole night is a mind-fuck. And in the back of my head, I have Senator Devereux’s secretary reminding me of my agreement with them. The fact that my aquatic therapy costs hundreds of dollars that I don’t have to spare, and they’ve been footing the bill.“You’re nothing special,” Paris snaps at me, flipping her hair over her shoulder.I roll my eyes. I’m sick of her attitude, but I don’t have the energy to
Willow rushes me after my first class. She almost crashes into me, skidding to a halt inches away, and drags me into the bathroom. She checks each of the stalls and then locks the main door.“What the hell, Violet?”I jerk back. “What?”“What. The. Hell. Violet.” She glares at me. “You should give a girl some more warning before you go off script.”I drop my backpack and shrug, helpless and more than a bit confused. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. Are you going to tell me or just keep scolding me?”“This.” She pulls her phone out and shoves it at me.It’s a blog for the CPU Hawks. All sorts of athletic team write-ups, reports, and coverage of the games… plus notices put out by the publicist. Rebecca Dumont.“We met with the publicist the other day,” I say slowly.I click on the most recent post that went live twenty minutes ago.Didn’t take long for Willow to find it—and then me. I’m not sure what I’m expecting to find. I told Rebecca that the previous article posted in the
VIOLETThe trip organizers rented out one of the conference rooms for breakfast. There’s a congregation of CPU students in the room, spread out across tables, at the buffet line. I ignore them all, though, in my hunt for Willow.I never ended up texting her last night, and I feel a pang of guilt. It eases slightly, though, when I see her sandwiched between Knox and Amanda.Grey stops beside me. Hearing that I’ve used a nickname he likes—especially coming from me, I guess—does weird things to me. Good things. Strange things. It’s a step in a direction I wasn’t expecting. Like our truce. Like pretending not to hate each other.I’m pretty sure I have frostbite on my ass, though.“Hungry?”I glance up at him. “A bit.”He smiles. “Go sit. I’ll grab us something.”“No, it’s okay.” I head toward the buffet.He snags my wrist. “Vi.”“Grey.” I narrow my eyes. “I have a weird relationship with food, okay? Don’t fight me on this.”He appraises me, understanding lighting his expression. He finall
GREYSON I rise before Violet. I quietly brush my teeth and pull on different clothes, then sit on the unused bed. I grab her phone from the charger and open it, still sort of miffed that she hasn’t thought to put a password on it.Some people are far too trusting.Like Violet, asleep in my bed. I glance back at her and take in her hair scattered across her face, her full lips, parted as she takes in long, deep breaths. Her eyelids twitch, like her eyes are moving in a dream, and her fingers are curled into her pillow.Other than her tense grip, she seems relaxed.My hand aches, but I’ll deal with that later. Both hands are still wrapped. People kept commenting on them last night when I was trying to keep one eye on Violet. The normal rush from being at the center of attention didn’t come, becauseshewasn’t paying attention to me.When the hell did my brain flip to only giving a shit about her?I don’t like it.I go to her texts, and a conversation with Mia Germain catches my eye. The
GREYSONI consider Violet Reece. Before. The girl who seemed to have everything together.Outward appearances can be deceiving. I know that better than anyone.While she hides in the bathroom, I pull up a video of the Crown Point Ballet. One of their shows stars my girl as the lead. I keep the screen close to my face, trying to analyze her every expression when she dances.There’s another video in the suggested list on the side—an interview with Mia Germain and Violet. I don’t know who Mia is, but I’m curious to see Violet. Not just dancing, but her demeanor.It’s different in front of a camera, that much is immediately obvious. She and an older woman sitting in cushioned chairs side by side. Violet on screen is thinner than she is now. She wears a t-shirt, leggings, and a wraparound cardigan cinched tight to her waist. It gapes at the top. Her hair is slicked back in a bun. Even her face has a sharpness to it that isn’t present nowadays.The date on the video is from a year ago.I hi
“You find our special friend?” Amanda asks. “Jess is being the responsible one. She’ll get us home.”Oh, well, that’s a brilliant plan.“I need a drink,” I call.They wave me off.I stand at the bar, silent for a moment, then carefully tug my shirt lower. I don’t have a ton of cleavage, but I guess it does the trick. Seconds later, the bartender pauses in front of me. His gaze goes down, then back to my face.“You got a boyfriend, sweetheart?”I smile sweetly. “Nope, but I do hope I can get a screwdriver. And a vodka tonic for my friend.”He smirks. “I can do that for you.”“Thanks.” My cheeks heat at the insinuation.He hands me a glass filled to the brim with orange juice and vodka. I slide him cash and wait for my change, then take a sip. The taste of vodka gets stuck in my nose, but I ignore it.I’ve stayed away from drugs my whole life. I was a good girl. The one who tried to do no wrong, because I thought that was what would save me in the end.Newsflash—that’s a fucking joke.W
He lifts his head, and I slowly open my eyes. My vision has adjusted. Moonlight comes in through skylights and high windows. There are faint emergency lights outside the rink, just barely visible from here.The cold hit me, and I shiver.He slips out of me and scoots back on his knees. He grips my knees and widens my legs as far as they can go. My ankles are still trapped together by my jeans, stuck on my boots.When he runs his finger from my slit up to my clit, my lips part.“Here’s a little challenge for you, Violent.” He toys with my clit again, analyzing my reaction.I squirm. I want to get off, I’m right there, on the edge, but he pulls away before I can get there. Again. And again. We go through this for fucking eternity, until I’m desperate enough to do it myself.So I do.I touch myself while he watches, while I shiver and moan and try not to let him see all of me. I fucking hate it. Where did my self-control go? Where did my will? But his gaze combats the cold, and I know ju