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violet

I avert my attention away from the insinuation hanging between us and place my focus on the television as well as the chicken wing in my hand. Neo ends up putting the Game Show Channel on as background noise and as the night continues on, I grow a lot more comfortable talking with him.

His grumpy disposition and good looks seem a lot less imposing now that his lips and fingers are smeared with buffalo sauce and we actually find ourselves frequently laughing as we play along with the contestants on Family Feud.

“You’re a mess,” I say, handing him a napkin during a commercial break. “Wipe your mouth.”

”And you’re sexy as fuck.” He suddenly moves within inches of me and says, “Let me wipe yours.”

He takes the napkin and gingerly wipes the side of my mouth, and something about the tenderness of the gesture makes me shut my eyes. I don’t open them again until his mouth finds mine.

His lips are soft, yet firm as they meet mine with a fiery intensity. My body responds immediately, my nipples hardening as Neo’s hand slides down my back, pulling me closer to him. The taste of hot sauce lingers on his tongue as it dances with mine. I moan softly, unable to resist the want coursing through me.

As we break from the kiss, Neo looks at me with a hunger that sends shivers down my spine and renders me defenseless. I’m doing so many things I shouldn’t.

He effortlessly pulls me onto his lap, as if I don’t weigh a thing, and I allow it. When his hands roam the curves of my body as he kisses my neck, I don’t stop him. And when his teeth graze my skin, leaving a trail of heat in their wake, I inadvertently gasp in delicious delight.

“I want you so fucking bad,” he whispers huskily in my ear, making my sex starved vagina clench with desire. “And I can tell that you want me too, but I can wait until you’re sure. Tonight, I just want to give you something think about. Make you feel good. So you’ve got a choice, Violet. My fingers or my tongue?”

No man has ever talked to me like this. It’s unnerving. My body responds to every word he says, craving everything he’s offering, but my brain is flashing huge yellow caution signs.

Alert! Use Caution.

“Let me offer you some encouragement while you decide,” he says in a playful voice, probably sensing the inner battle I’m dealing with.

Neo’s hands travel under and up my shirt, cupping my breasts as he kneads them gently. I’m not wearing a bra, which may or may not have been a wise decision. I guess it’s all how you look at it. It feels entirely too good, so I arch my back, giving him better access and now his mouth finds one of my nipples.

“Tongue?” He growls the question as he sucks and tenderly nibbles on it, sending waves of pleasure straight to my core. “Or fingers?”

I’m lost in the moment, my body burning on fire as Neo slides one of his massive hands down my sweats and inside the crotch of my panties.

“Fuck, you’re wet,” he sighs into my ear, and a tuft of his blond hair brushes softly against my face.

My hips writhe as Neo’s skilled touch between my folds sends me higher and higher, my brain foggy with want. It’s been so long that I quickly almost reach climax when my common sense finally kicks in. I have a boyfriend and I almost let a hockey player finger fuck me.

I grab his wrist to stop him.

“Wait–”

All movement immediately stops.

And my poor vagina weeps.

It’s heartbreaking, but necessary.

There’s a reason why Kennedy warned him away from me. She doesn’t need any new friends, Neo. She was probably protecting me from the big bad ice wolf and I need to remember that.

“I guess you’ve decided on an alternate option,” he says, his voice sounding disheartened as he pulls his hand from between my legs and lowers my top.

“Enjoy the couch,” I tell him.

“Good night, Violet.”

* * *

I haven’t had a great night’s sleep in almost a year and last night was no different. Well, there was one difference.

For months I’ve been replaying last year over and over in my dreams. In some iterations of the dream, I’m chastising my mother for not being forthcoming with me. I think it’s because after her death, I discovered that she may not have had some sort of random aneurism at all. Mom had a myriad of health problems that she was keeping from me, some of which I’m sure contributed to her outcome.

But last night I had variations of the same dream all starring one Neo Major. In one of the ridiculous dreams I had, he finger fucked me in the middle of an Econ class while people stared at us. Some with envy. Others in disgust. It was a wackadoodle dream, and I was the star.

After tossing and turning half the night, I overslept and wake up the next morning to find a simple one word text from Neo implying that he’s left.

Neo: thanks

I lay still, thinking about our evening together and what almost happened between us. If I hadn’t come to my senses, there’s a strong chance I would have slept with him.

Who the hell am I right now?

I don’t just sleep around with random guys I don’t know. That isn’t me. The last time I had sex, it was with Elijah and that was only after we’d been seeing for close to six months because that’s who I am.

I have rules.

Standards.

I get to know the guy and maybe even some of his friends as well. I check his social media. I check the dating sites to make sure he isn’t on them actively looking for a hookup. I ask for STD results.

Usually, I do all the things.

Not this time.

This time, I came dangerously close to breaking all my rules.

I can still feel the delicious traces of Neo’s calloused fingertips along the skin of my inner thighs, but now that my head is no longer clouded from his presence (and from lust), I understand now more than ever that it would be in my best interest to forget what almost happened. Not that I’m interested in the possibility, but there could never be anything romantic between Neo and me.

I’m Violet, the scholarship student and book nerd. He’s Neo the hockey god, university treasure. If there was even a chance of something happening between us, it would inevitably be short-lived and only end badly for me.

I’m a realist.

And I know his kind.

His big, beautiful kind.

They’re absolute trouble.

And I’m not going to make the same mistake that my mother did. I refuse to repeat history.

As I head to the kitchen for breakfast, I almost trip over a surprise sitting right outside my bedroom door. There’s a small Christmas tree plugged into the outlet near my door with gold lights and ornaments twinkling merrily, and there’s a small note attached.

“You’re going to get there, Grinch, and this tree is the first step. Merry Christmas.” – Neo