Asher puts his glass down. “Would you like to dance?”

  I grin. “I thought you’d never ask.”

  He leads me to the dance floor and we dance. Not like before, of course. We can’t be that… uncivilized. He grips my waist and I grip his shoulders and we sway to the music like a couple at a prom or at a wedding.

  Like a couple.

  I look at Asher’s face.

  It would be nice if we could be a couple.

  Asher’s eyes narrow. “What is it?”

  “Nothing,” I tell him the same thing I said earlier.

  His expression tells me he doesn’t believe me.

  “Violet…”

  “Asher?” A voice interrupts us. “Asher Hawthorne?”

  We stop dancing and turn our heads to see a man walking towards us. A familiar-looking man.

  “Lloyd Finley?” I ask.

  He grins. “Yes, it’s me.”

  Who would have thought?

  “I’m sorry. You are?”

  “Vi—”

  “Wait.” He cuts me off and scratches his chin. “You were the one who came with him to that party at my house, right? I remember you were looking everywhere for Asher.”

  I nod. “Right.”

  He turns to Asher and nudges his arm. “You really shouldn’t worry a woman like that, man. She thought you’d been killed or something.”

  Except he’d just run off with another woman.

  Asher doesn’t reply to Lloyd’s remark. He pats him on the shoulder.

  “Lloyd Finley. To think I’d see you here.”

  He shrugs. “What can I say? I love parties.”

  “That you do,” Asher and I agree at the same time.

  I chuckle at our synchronization.

  Lloyd grins. “Well, I’m glad to see that the two of you are still together.”

  He thinks we are?

  “Oh no.” I wave my hand. “Asher and I aren’t… I mean we didn’t…”

  “We’re just friends,” Asher says. “And colleagues. She works for the family company now.”

  Lloyd nods. “I see. That’s good to know.”

  Not for me. I’m just a friend to Asher? Just a colleague? I know we’re not boyfriend and girlfriend, but couldn’t he have just said we’re dating? He didn’t even say anything when Lloyd was talking about that night. He could have apologized for all the trouble or say he’d never make me worry again. But it seems like he just wants to pretend it never happened.

  Come to think of it, he’s been like this from the beginning. He didn’t want to talk about what happened at that party. He just wanted me to forgive him for it. And he doesn’t want to talk about the fact that he sleeps around, either. When I asked him why, he just said it was because of the sex. So he slept with all those women just for sex. Now he’s with me mostly for the sex, too. So how am I different?

  What on earth am I doing?

  “Excuse me,” I speak up. “I have to go to the restroom.”

  I leave without waiting for either man to reply. Inside a cubicle, I lean against a wall and take deep breaths. I place my hand on my forehead as I think.

  What am I doing here? Why am I with Asher when he tossed me aside like trash in the past? Why am I making the same mistake I made before, the one I swore I’d never make again?

  I shake my head. No. I won’t make the same mistake. Before things go any further, I’m going to talk to Asher. I’m going to find out for sure what his intentions are. I’m going to tell him that if he hurts me again, I’m not just going to knee him in the balls. I’m going to chop his dick off.

  I get out of the restroom and head back to the dance floor. To my dismay, I don’t see Asher. I only see Lloyd.

  I approach him. “Have you seen Asher?”

  He gives me a puzzled look. “Um, no. I thought he went after you.”

  “Oh. Okay.”

  As I head back to the restrooms, I can feel Lloyd’s gaze following me. I know what he’s thinking. That this is déjà vu. It kind of feels like it.

  I check the area around the restrooms, figuring that maybe Asher did come after me but didn’t see me come out. I don’t see him. I start to look everywhere.

  Yup. This is feeling like déjà vu.

  Where are you, Asher?

  Like before, I start to feel afraid as the time passes, thinking something bad might have happened to him. And I hate it. I hate that I still care so much. I hate thinking that if something bad happened to him, I’d be devastated. And I don’t even have a right to be since we’re not a couple.

  Fuck.

  Finally, I find him. In an empty corridor. With a woman in a blue gown.

  I don’t even have a chance to feel relief at finding him. My heart just shatters. I can’t breathe.

  I can’t believe I’m going through this nightmare all over again.

  As tears sting the back of my eyes, I pick up my skirt and run in the opposite direction.

  “Violet!”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Asher

  I call after Violet but she doesn’t stop running. I run after her down the other corridor, past the rope barrier and the sign that says the area is closed.

  “Violet!”

  She goes into a room and closes the door. Not just closes. Locks. I draw a deep breath.

  “Violet, open the door,” I tell her calmly.

  “Go away,” she says from the other side.

  “I won’t. And if you don’t open this door, I’m going to do one of two things. One, I’m going to start banging my fists on this door, which will surely get the attention of the other guests and the reporters at the party, not to mention security. Or two, I’m just going to break this door down, which I suppose will cause an even bigger ruckus and possibly land me in jail.”

  Violet still doesn’t open the door.

  “Violet.”

  Finally, she does but just a crack.

  “Why can’t you just leave me alone?”

  The distraught look on her face and the agony in her voice makes me frown. I definitely can’t leave her alone now.

  I step inside the room, which I realize is full of ancient tapestries, and close the door behind me.

  “I’m not going anywhere, Violet,” I tell her. “I came to this party with you and I’m not leaving without you.”

  “Why not? Because it might look bad? Who cares? You didn’t care about that before. You didn’t care that I was scared and I looked like a fool, which by the way, is what happened again.” She slaps her forehead. “God, I can’t believe I let this happen again.”

  “It’s not happening again. I didn’t leave you. I was just talking to someone—Patricia Heather. She works at the New York Stock Exchange and she knows my father.”

  Violet glares at me. “Do you think I care who she is?”

  I frown. “I was just talking to her, alright? I’ve never slept with her and I wasn’t planning to.”

  “Yeah, right.”

  She turns her back on me. I exhale.

  “What? Are you going to bite my head off every time I talk to another woman? Am I not allowed to do that now?”

  Violet turns around and points a finger at me. “Don’t you dare make me sound like I’m a crazy, jealous, insecure girlfriend, because I’m not! You know why? Because I’m not even your girlfriend! I’m just your friend, remember? And your ‘colleague’. Isn’t that what you told Lloyd Finley?”

  “Oh, is that what this is about now? Me not telling Lloyd Finley that we’re not having sex? Well, excuse me, but I don’t broadcast my sex life.”

  “That is not what I wanted you to say.”

  “Then what did you want me to say?” I ask her.

  Instead of answering, she grips her hair in frustration and walks to the far side of the room. Then to my surprise, she crouches on the floor and starts sobbing.

  Fuck.

  What do I do? Do I just walk away and leave her alone like she asked? Do I drag her out of here?

  Then I hear Stella’s voice in my head.

  Try harder. Do better.

  I just have to get through to her.

  I walk over to her. “Violet.”

  When she doesn’t answer, I grab her arm. She pushes my hand away.

  “Don’t touch me.”

  At the sight of the tears trickling down her cheeks, a lump forms in my throat. I’ve seen Violet on the verge of tears before, but I’ve never actually seen her crying. Now that I do, my chest feels painfully tight.

  Is this how she looked the night I left her at Lloyd Finley’s party?

  I hurt her then. And I just hurt her again. I feel guilty, foolish. I feel like the worst man in the world.

  I dry her cheeks and stroke them as I look into her eyes.

  “I’m sorry, Violet. I’m sorry I left you at Lloyd Finley’s party. I’m sorry for making you worry just now.”

  Violet says nothing but her sobs seem to lessen.

  I cup her face and kiss her cheeks.

  “I’m sorry that I used to be a man-whore.”

  “Used to be?” she asks me as she wipes the corner of her eye.

  I stroke her hair. “Now I’m just a man who can’t get enough of you.”

  Violet’s blue eyes grow wide. A blush coats her cheeks.

  She’s stopped crying. Good. But that doesn’t mean I no longer want to kiss her or hold her in my arms.

  I press my lips tenderly to hers. When she responds, my heart leaps against the walls of my chest. Heat flows through my veins.

  I really can’t get enough of her.

  I slip my hand beneath Violet’s hair to caress the nape of her neck as I push my tongue past her lips. To my surprise, she opens her mouth and captures the tip, sucking on it. I grin.

  It seems like Violet can’t get enough of me, either.

  I run my hands across the bare skin of her upper back. She unbuttons my jacket and slips her hands beneath it to grip my waist. Then she pulls away and looks at me with furrowed eyebrows.

  “Should we do this here?”

  She’s worried about that now?

  “Do you really want to stop?” I ask her as I kiss her neck. “Because to be honest, I don’t think I can.”

  “But…”

  I take her hand and press her palm against the bulge in my crotch.

  “Oh,” she says.

  “Don’t worry.” I kiss the other side of her neck. “We donated a lot of money, so this should be fine.”

  “But you said earlier that—”

  I cut her off with a kiss. She kisses me back and rubs her palm against my clothed erection. It swells and I pull away to suck in a breath.

  “I thought you wanted to stop,” I say in a strained voice.

  Violet gives my cock a squeeze. “Just shut up and fuck me.”

  I chuckle. “Yes, ma’am.”

  She frowns. “Did you just call me—?”

  I kiss her again so she can’t say another word. Then I carry her in my arms to the cushioned bench. I set her down and plant kisses on her neck and shoulders as I slip my hands beneath her gown. My fingers find the garter of her panties and I slowly pull it down her legs all the way past her knees to her ankles and off her sandals. I roll the panties into a ball and shove them inside the empty back pocket of my trousers. Then I start to free my belt from its buckle.

  Violet interrupts me as she pushes off my jacket. I get rid of it and throw it on the bench. Then I continue with my efforts to free my cock. I get my belt free and unbutton my trousers. I unzip it and take my cock out of my boxers. Violet grabs my tie and pulls me forward to kiss me as she strokes it.

  Naughty.

  I return her kisses and let her play with me as my way of atoning for making her worry earlier. I’d let her play as much as she likes, but we don’t exactly have the luxury of time.

  The possibility that you might get caught is what makes sex in public exciting, but all the fun goes away if that ever turns into reality. I’d rather not get caught. I’m sure Violet would prefer that, too.

  After about a minute, I push her hand away. I put a condom on and have her lie down on the bench. I roll her gown up to her waist.

  “Hold it,” I tell her to make sure the gown doesn’t get in the way.

  Violet clutches the fabric. I put one of my knees on the bench so that I’m straddling one of her legs, my other leg still against the floor. Then I issue another order.

  “Turn the upper part of your body sideways.”

  When she does, I grab her other leg and lift it. I wrap my arm around her lower leg to hold it in place as I push the tip of my cock inside her. She gasps. I draw a deep breath and slowly push the rest of my cock in.

  Once it’s halfway in, I stop. I brush Violet’s hair aside so I can see her face. Her eyes are closed. Her lips are pursed to hold back her moans. I stroke her cheek and she turns her head to look at me. Desire coats her eyes in place of tears, which frankly suits her better. Her lips part.

  “Violet.” Her name leaves my lips in a whisper as I hold her gaze.

  I run my thumb over her lips in a tender caress because I can’t kiss her in this position. Then I grip the back of the bench and start to move.

  The bench creaks. Again, Violet closes her eyes and purses her lips. Her fingers tremble as they clutch her gown and gather it up to her chest.

  I reach for one of her breasts as I continue with my thrusts. Her stiff nipple pokes my palm. In doing so, my angle must have shifted, because the muffled sounds she’s making change. They’re more intense now. She can barely keep them at bay.

  I continue pounding into her from this new angle while keeping her breast in my hand. After a few more thrusts, she lifts her gown to her mouth to stifle her cries as she trembles. The passage around my cock tightens.

  Fuck.

  I let go of her breast to grip the back of the bench and put more power into my thrusts. I clench my jaw as I manage a few more. Then I give one final thrust.

  I bury myself to the hilt inside Violet’s still trembling body. She lets out a loud gasp followed by an unrestrained cry. I grunt as the heat from my balls spills out of my cock into its rubber sheath.

  Afterwards, we both fall silent. I take just a moment to catch my breath before pulling out and getting rid of the used condom in a trash can in the corner.

  As I fix my trousers, Violet gets off the bench. She stands up and her gown rolls back into place, down to her ankles without a crease as if nothing happened. I can’t even tell she’s not wearing any panties. But she can.

  “Where are my panties?” she asks.

  I reluctantly take them out of my pocket and throw them at her. As she puts them on, I grab my coat and put it back on. She buttons it and straightens my tie. I try to fix her hair as best as I can.

  “How do I look?” Violet asks.

  “Great,” I answer.

  It’s not a lie. Some strands of her hair may be out of place now, but she still looks hot. In fact, I daresay she looks even hotter.

  She sighs. “I can’t believe we just had sex in a museum.”

  “They’d probably be happy to have us as part of their exhibit. People could learn a lot of things from us, you know.”

  Violet hits my shoulder playfully. “Shut up.”

  I smile. Just as I hoped, she seems to be in a better mood. Then again, who wouldn’t be after the sex we just had?

  “I still prefer having sex where there’s no danger of being caught,” she says. “Or interrupted.”

  I take her hand. “Then it’s a good thing we have hotel rooms waiting.”

  Violet grins. “It sure is.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Violet

  I sure am such a fool.

  Yes, Toronto was fun. After the party, Asher and I went back to the hotel and had sex pretty much all night. Then we had lunch at the CN Tower, climbed to the SkyPod to take in the views, and took the flight home in the company’s private jet. It was a short trip but memorable just the same.

  But I’m not in Toronto anymore.

  Now that I’m back in my apartment in Chicago, soaking in the tub as per my Sunday evening ritual and relaxing my tired muscles, my worries return. My mind is supposed to be taking a break before another workweek starts. Instead, my thoughts are bouncing around like the metallic ball in a pinball machine.

  So what is going on with Asher and me again?

  All he said was that he can’t get enough of me, that and that he’s sorry for being a man-whore. But he didn’t say anything about starting a relationship and doing his best to make it work. He didn’t say anything about loving me or wanting to stay by my side.

  All he said was that he can’t get enough of me. Of all of me? Or just sex with me? Because that much is obvious. But what happens when he gets tired of me? When he gets bored? Everyone gets enough of something at some point. The only reason they keep going is because they decide they want more.

  That’s the thing. It has to be a decision. Asher has to decide that he wants to be with me. This thing between us can’t just be a thing that happens. Or it can unhappen with the snap of a finger.

  I know it’s what Asher is used to. He goes to a bar or a club and a woman flirts with him. Or maybe he sees a woman and flirts. Either way, it just happens and then they just end up having sex. And then it’s over. But it’s not like he planned on everything being that way. If he didn’t find a woman, that was fine, though I have a feeling that doesn’t happen much. If he didn’t like the woman, he wasn’t going to have sex with her. If the woman didn’t want to have sex with him, he wasn’t going to force it. They just happened to meet. They have no obligation to do anything with each other. They just do because they want to have fun.

  Isn’t what Asher and I have pretty much the same except maybe an extended version?

  I can’t have that. Maybe Asher can, but I can’t. We can’t have just a thing. We have to call it something. We have to decide to call it something. We’re not sixteen or nineteen where we can do something and just wait and see where it goes. I can’t. I’m twenty-nine. I don’t want to waste time. If Asher has no intention of making this, whatever it is, go somewhere, I want to know. If he does, I want to know that, too.

  I want to know his intentions. I’m too old to play guessing games and I have a right to know.