her. She had been honest, told him what she’d never told anyone, and she’d thought he’d kill someone all over again for her. His anger had been tangible, his emotions clear on his face and in the way his big body had strained forward. She had wanted his comfort, needed it so desperately, but she knew with Cain Trainer she wouldn’t get any flowers or candy. He was rough as they came.
She repeated the process with the shots again and again until she felt a warm burn start to flow through her veins and her body grew numb. On her fourth shot she heard the sound of a motorcycle in the distance, coming closer with every passing second. Time seemed to stand still, and then she heard three loud hard knocks on her front door. Of course she knew who it was without even opening the door. But she didn’t move, couldn’t. But then she heard the front door open and close.
“Violet, I know you’re home, so no point in fucking avoiding me.”
She closed her eyes and breathed out at the sound of Cain’s voice. She really didn’t want to do this with him right now, especially when the liquor was starting to make a hum in her body, and she knew in a few moments she’d really be feeling the effects.
Cain’s expression as he regarded her was stoic and hard. “I know the fuck you heard me knocking, Violet, and hiding behind a bottle of alcohol won’t solve shit.”
How in the hell was she supposed to reply to that? And why was he even angry with her? He was the one who had said they could never be together. “Cain, please, I don’t want to do this with you right now.” She stared at him just as hard as he was watching her. “You made it clear where you stand. Now, let me drown my sorrows temporarily in this bottle of whiskey.”
“That’s not the answer, and you know it. You want to talk, and I’m here.” He moved closer, and leaned against the frame. “I upset you, and that’s the last thing I want to fucking do.”
“The night didn’t go how I planned.” She lowered her gaze to the white shirt that could be seen through the opening in his cut. She lifted her gaze to his once more and saw a flicker of emotion cross his face. But he was good at hiding it the next second. With her hand still tightly wrapped around the neck of the whiskey bottle, she wished she had finished off the whole thing before right now. As the alcohol continued to move through her veins she knew her mouth wouldn’t stay shut for long.
Even after everything she saw, knew about Cain and The Brothers of Menace, the blood, the carnage, and violence, Violet wanted this man more than she’d ever wanted anything. Even though this man was in his forties, he was so handsome in a rugged, vicious way.
She was aroused, her pussy wet, and her nipples hard. And all he did was stand there, staring at her with eyes that consumed her very soul, his knuckles scuffed and bruised from fighting. Even at a distance she saw him swallow, watched as his Adam’s apple worked beneath his tanned, tattooed flesh. Throb, pulse, and tingle. Those were all of the things her clit and pussy were doing as she took in the sight of his muscles contracting and releasing under his worn jeans and white t-shirts. God, his thighs were so big and muscular, like thick tree trunks. And even from where she stood, and despite the fact he wore a shirt she could see the lines from his six-pack, those hard ridges that were like paint rollers under the material.
The death grip she had on the bottle seemed to ground her, stabilize her. Violet forced her fingers away though, and set the bottle aside. “I don’t want to rehash everything again, Cain. At this point I feel like a broken record.” She didn’t know why those words had come out of her mouth.
He moved closer, just a step, but she felt his body heat slam into her.
He took another step closer. “I told you years ago that I would always protect you. You’re not just Fallina’s best friend, but under my protection until
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