TRAVIS

I’m not sure which is more distracting.

The choking sound Alyssa Crawford makes when she’s deep-throating my cock or envisioning Viola Fisher on her knees in front of me.

If I had to guess, I’d say it’s the latter.

After lunch, I silence my phone and hustle until four p.m. when Alyssa prances her little ass into my office.

“What do you want?” I ask.

She sways her hips, takes a seat on the edge of my cluttered desk. “I came to see if you wanted to have dinner tonight? We could write it off as a work expense.” She grins, twirling a black credit card in her fingers.

“I’m under the gun. Blake has doubled my workload,” I say without looking back up at her.

“Oh, come on, baby. You can take a little break.” Her baby voice makes my ears bleed. “You can’t be all work and no play.”

“I can’t, Alyssa,” I say, firmly. “Not all of us work CEO’s daughter’s hours. I’ll be here all night.”

She sticks her lower lip out, not pleased with my harsh response. “Well...” She swings her body off the top and rounded my desk, grabbing the arm of my chair and swinging it toward her. “Let me help make the longer hours a little more bearable then.”

Before I have time to argue, she’s on her knees, unzipping my slacks and palming my cock. I’m at a loss for words the moment she runs her tongue up my shaft.

“Alyssa...” I say, trying to control myself, but it’s a lost cause. The girl may be a complete airhead in the office, but her true talents don’t go unnoticed.

I swing my chair back toward my desk, needing to make sure she’s out of sight in case anyone barges into my office again.

“I love hearing you say my name...” she purrs, looking up at me. The look in her eyes tells me everything I already know. She thinks she has me wrapped around her little finger, and the more I give in, the more control I hand her. However, it’s too late to do anything about it now. Piss her off and I may as well piss away my career. “Sounds so much better on your lips than that bitch Viola’s.”

She wraps her lips around my cock and takes it all in her mouth, making me lose the words I was about to throw back at her. Mentioning Viola at a time like this only makes it worse. Now, I’m picturing her tits bouncing in front of me and the wetness of her lips.

“Shit,” I curse, unable to hold back.

She moans as she swallows and licks the corner of her mouth. “Mm...” She crawls in between my legs and adjusts her arms over my lap. “Now hopefully you won’t be so tense.” She puckers her lips out, begging for me to give her a kiss of approval.

“Alyssa,” I growl, tucking myself back into my slacks and zipping up. “I need to get back to work.”

She finally takes the hint and escorts herself out of my office, and I immediately drown myself back into my files. I work through dinner, even though I’m starving and tempted to ask Viola to bring me something, I can’t take another distraction.

Just after eight p.m., I check my phone and see Viola’s sent me a message. I half expect her to ask if I’m coming home tonight or some smart-ass comment about being out with another chick, but I’m completely at a loss the moment I read her message, You disgust me, Travis.

It’s attached with a picture of a dozen or so photos sprawled out. It’s hard to make out exactly what they are, but I recognize Alyssa’s long blonde hair and then when I take a closer look, see that she’s naked in them. What the hell did she do now?

I don’t have time to explain or to even hunt Alyssa down and ask her what the hell she was thinking, so I do the only thing I’m good at.

Stop being such a prude, princess. I remember a certain someone also posing naked in front of me, I reply before packing my shit up and heading out of my office. Today can kiss my ass. Blake is trying to wear me down, but I can’t let him.

––––––––

When I get back to the house, all the lights are off, which can only mean Viola’s in bed already. No way she’d be out actually having a life or anything.

It’s completely silent and pitch black when I walk in. Not even a reflection of the TV is glowing, so I flip the hall light on and walk to the kitchen to flip a few more lights on.

“Viola?” I call out, but she doesn’t answer. I walk down the hall and see Drew’s room completely empty. I check my room, the living room, and bathroom. When I walk back to the kitchen, I notice the same photos from her message on the table.

“Fucking hell,” I mutter, grabbing the pictures and analyzing them for myself. “What the hell is wrong with this chick?” I shake my head at the ones she printed out from the cameras. This is a whole new level of crazy I hadn’t anticipated.

I collect them all in my hand and go to toss them out when I see her handwriting on the back. Flipping them over, I read over them all and curse when I read Viola’s name.

“Goddammit!” I firmly brush a hand through my hair, my jaw ticking at the thought of Viola seeing and reading these. Where the hell is she?

I reach for my phone, still no reply from her, and decide to send her another text.

I’m home. We need to talk.

If I had known, I would’ve never sent that reply back to her. Now I feel like more of an asshole than usual.

After fifteen minutes and not hearing back from her, I decide to call her. It rings once before going straight to voicemail. Hey, you’ve reached Viola. Leave me a message and I’ll call you back!

“Viola, c’mon, I know you’re there. Get your ass back home. We need to talk.”

I hang up and immediately text her again. I saw the pictures. I’m sorry. Come back home.

I dig through the fridge and grab the box of cold pizza. I’m too worked up to really taste it, but I haven’t eaten in hours, so I take the last few pieces. I can’t even settle down enough to watch the ten o’clock news, so I just stand in the kitchen with a can of beer and an empty pizza box.

I check my phone again, still nothing. I call her again. Voicemail. I send another text, nearly begging her to at least let me know she’s okay. Pissed at me or not, she’s always been smart about letting Drew know she was safe.

Quit the shit, Viola. I had a long day and have an even longer one tomorrow. Get your ass home. We need to talk.

I grab another beer from the fridge and debate calling Drew to see if he’s heard from her. After another hour of silence, I break down and call him.

“Hey, man. What’s up?” He sounds genuinely happy, and I hate that I have to bother him. I hope him and Mia have reconciled their differences since the last time we talked.

“Hey, nothing. Have you heard from your sister tonight by chance?” I try to mask my voice, but he knows me too well.

“What’d you do?” is his immediate response.

“Nothing!” I say a little too harshly. “I’ve been at work all night and she wasn’t home when I got here. She’s not answering my texts or calls.”

“Who’s that, baby?” I hear Mia in the background. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, everything’s fine. Travis pissed Viola off and now he can’t find her,” he responds as if I can’t hear everything he’s saying.

“C’mon man,” I groan. “Just call her for me, okay? I need to know she’s okay before I can pass out.”

“Fine, I’ll call her and let you know.”

“Thanks.”

I hang up and eagerly wait to hear back from him. By the time he messages me, I’ve already taken my slacks and shirt off, dreading having to put on the same attire again in the morning.

I called and texted her. No response.

Goddammit.

Where the hell could she be?!

Chill, man. She’s a big girl. She probably just went out with some girlfriends.

I roll my eyes. He and I both know that’s unlikely. Or she’s getting groped by some douchebag, I send back.

I know it’s dramatic, but this isn’t like Viola at all. On a good day, her hair is pulled up in a messy bun, sporting her black-rimmed glasses and bright-colored leggings with a book or two in her hand.

He replies moments later. Nah, she probably carries mace in her purse right next to her box of condoms.

I hate that he’s not taking this seriously. In high school, if any of his friends came near Viola, he’d—

Wait.

I stop and message him back right away. Are you fucking with me? Do you know where she is and not telling me?

No. I don’t.

I can’t tell if he’s lying or not, so I don’t push it. I grab a pair of drawstring sweatpants and park my ass on the couch. Exhausted or not, I’m not going to sleep until I know she’s home safe.

After watching a couple Seinfeld re-runs, I can’t keep my eyes open, but every time I close them, visions of Viola being groped by some sleazeball enters my mind. Just as another episode starts, I hear rattling at the door. I practically fly off the couch and rush to the door just as I see Viola stumbling in with a guy wrapped around her from behind. She’s giggling and he has asshole written all over him.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” I growl, my jaw ticking as I clench my fists.

“Travis?” She’s obviously been drinking. “Hey, it’s Travis!” She giggles.

“What the fuck are you doing? Who’s this tool?” I nod my head to the shrimp next to her, wrapping his arms around her waist.

“His name is...” she stumbles again, laughing as I catch her. “Aaron!” She looks to him for approval and he furrows his brows. “I mean...” She snaps her fingers. “Andrew!”  

“That’s wonderful. Andrew needs to leave now.”

“Dude, I’m right fucking here.” He snaps his head, glaring at me. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

“You’re in my fucking house, man. I wouldn’t push it.”

“Travis, don’t be an ass.” She lightly smacks her hand against my chest. “We met at The Lounge. I didn’t want to drive myself home and he offered.”

“How nice,” I deadpan, knowing exactly what he was offering. “Well, you’re home now. He can leave.”

“Shouldn’t you be in bed,” she scoffs, pushing through me and walking toward the living room. “Or rather, someone else’s bed.”

“Viola!” I shout, grabbing her attention back toward me. She trips over her own heels and catches herself on the wall before she falls. “Do you have any idea how worried I’ve been? Or the thoughts that were running through my mind? You wouldn’t answer my calls or messages. I thought something happened to you.” The anger boiling under my skin terrifies  me, but I don’t have enough strength to stop myself.

I feel a hand on my shoulder. “She was safe with me.” I hear his condescending tone behind me. He squeezes his fingers into my skin with a hard chuckle.

“Get your hand off me.” I jerk my shoulder, but he must be hard of hearing because he doesn’t move. All I see is red and without thinking, I grab his wrist and face him, locking his arm behind his back as I cup his throat. “I fucking warned you.” I release him and he falls to the ground. “Get out of my goddamn house!”

“Travis! Stop it!” Viola squeals, but it sounds distant, and I ignore it.

“Fuck you, asshole.” He stands up, adjusting his shirt. “She ain’t worth it.”

“Wrong answer.” Viola Fisher is worth every damn thing. My mind blacks out on me and all I can do is react.

I lunge at him before I can think twice. My fists collide with his face, over and over, until he’s on the floor. He covers his face with both arms, but that doesn’t stop me. The anger is too much and this guy deserves every piece I’m serving him.

“She’s not a fucking piece of meat, you piece of shit!”

Viola locks her hands around my bicep and attempts to pull me back. I barely flinch, but it’s enough to break me out of my trance. I let my guard down and the asshole releases one arm and throws a punch at me. I quickly dodge it, twisting my fingers around his arm and intercepting the blow. I feel him flailing under me as I try to cover another hit he’s aiming at me.

“Ah!” I hear Viola’s scream, paralleled with a hard smack against the wall.

I turn and see her against the bookcase, clutching her right shoulder as she leans her body forward.

“Viola,” I call out, jumping off Andrew and rushing to stand in front of her. “Are you okay? What hurts?” I kneel down and look for any sign of blood.

“No, I’m not okay!” she yells. “While you two idiots were wrestling down there, you knocked me into the fucking bookcase.”

“Don’t blame me. Blame your psychotic boyfriend who tried to pummel my face in,” Andrew hisses.

“Trying would insinuate I didn’t succeed and by the looks of your bloody nose, it appears I have.” I glare at him.

“Fuck off, jackass!” He wipes his face with the back of his hand and walks toward the front door.

“You motherfucker!” Viola screams as the front door slams shut and then he’s gone.

I look back at Viola and see her rubbing the spot on her back. I feel terrible she got put into the middle of all this and ended up hurt.

Fuck, I shouldn’t have reacted like that. I haven’t lost control like that in years.

“Let me see.” I stand up in front of her, and grab one of her hands to spin her around, but she doesn’t budge. “Viola,” I say firmer. “I just want to look at it.” Finally, she corporates, turning around so I can examine the injury.

I slide my hand down her spine and finger the bottom of her shirt. Slowly, I lift it and watch as her entire body shivers. “Lift your arm up so I can pull the shirt up higher.”

She winces as she attempts to raise her arm. “It hurts like a bitch.”

I finally see the area where she hit on the corner of the bookcase. I slowly rub the pad of my thumb over it, feeling how soft and smooth her skin feels against mine. The area is red and a little puffy, but no cuts or bleeding. “Well, that’ll teach you to bring assholes like him back home.” It’s a snarky comment, I know, but we need to talk about the elephant in the room.

“Screw you,” she hisses, putting her arm back down and shifting away from me.

“Excuse me?” I ask, following behind her as she walks toward the kitchen. “You come home at three in the goddamn morning with some fuckface who only wanted to use you for sex and you’re pissed at me?” 

She digs around in the cabinet and grabs a bottle of Advil. She slams the door shut, scowling at me. “Maybe I wanted to be used. Did you ever think of that? Maybe, just maybe, I wanted to have a guy want me, even if for a night, even if it was just sex.”

She walks around me and heads to the fridge, where she grabs a bottle of water.

I stand there like an idiot, my jaw locked. I’m seething, certain she has to be testing me.

“Guys do it all the time.” She shrugs casually, twisting the lid off and shaking two capsules out. “Hell, you’re a walking, breathing example. So why can’t I?” She swallows the pills, keeping her eyes locked on mine, daring me to challenge her.

My jaw ticks again, taking a step toward her. “You aren’t like that, Viola,” I tell her sincerely.

“And how would you know?” She steps toward me, closing the gap between us. “You only assume I’m not. Just because I like to read and don’t flaunt my body doesn’t mean I don’t like to have meaningless, one-night stands, too.”

My breath hitches as my eyes watch her chest rise and fall. She’s just as worked up as I am.

I study her carefully, trying to read her body since I know she’ll never say the words she really wants to say.

“You broke your own house rule,” I inform her, needing to break the tension.

“Well...” She shrugs. “If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em.”

I furrow my brows. “So you only brought him back here to piss me off, is that it?” I cross my arms over my chest, feeling my face heat as my body burning with rage. “You wanted a reaction?”

“I wanted to give you a taste of your own medicine,” she replies, chewing on her lower lip. “Doesn’t feel so great, does it?”

I swallow, stepping back. “I don’t know. You tell me. You’re the one with the wounded shoulder blade, princess.”

She rolls her eyes. “It’s not a wound, although it did hurt like hell at first. But it’ll heal. Plus, you’re the one who broke his nose.”

I scoff. “It’s not broken,” I assure her. “But he’ll be hurting in the morning.”

“So your plan is to just beat up every guy I want to have sex with?”

“I didn’t beat Jason. Although, I could’ve.” I shrug.

She snorts. “Whatever, Travis. You’re such a hypocrite.”

Just as she takes a step around me, I grab her arm and pull her to my chest. “How so?”

I watch her throat move as she swallows. Her body is flesh against mine, her breathing labored.

“You sleep with every other girl on the planet, but the second I bring a guy home for a good time, you want to beat the shit out of him. You’re the one who gets high-fived for your one-night stands, but God-forbid I want someone to fuck my brains out; you go all Mike Tyson on the guy.”

My cock twitches at her words, and I can feel it harden under my sweats. The way she talks is so unlike her, and it takes all the willpower in me to say what’s really on my mind.

“You aren’t that girl,” I whisper.

“Maybe I want to be,” she whispers back. “Even if just for a night.” Her body is begging for it, and I can see the lust in her eyes.

I bow my head, lowering my eyes to hers, our lips almost touching. “Sorry, princess. I don’t fuck virgins, remember?” I know it’s a dick move, but I can’t have my best friend’s little sister underneath me, as much as I want her to be.

“Good thing I’m not a virgin.” Her tone is brave, and I wonder where it’s coming from. “But if the real reason is because you’re afraid you won’t live up to the Travis King name, then—”

Annoyance piles up inside me and before I can stop myself, I grab her hips and pull them the rest of the way into me, capturing her words with my mouth. She opens for me, needy and desperate. I press my hips into her, hard and greedy.

“You want someone to fuck your brains out, princess?” I ask against her lips, pushing our bodies against the kitchen wall. “Is that what you need to stop being a smartass little know-it-all?”

“Make me come and see for yourself, asshole.”

I groan against her lips. “Goddammit, Viola.” I know I should stop. She’s been drinking, and I’m clearly not in the right frame of mind to make smart decisions right now.

She presses her mouth to mine and wraps a palm around my cock through my sweats. I wrap a hand around her neck, moaning in her mouth as she begins stroking me.

“Viola...” I say, almost pleading. “Fuck, that feels good.”

“Mm hmm...” she hums against my lips.

“Princess, we can’t...” I hate myself the moment the words come out.

Her hand stalls and she jerks her head back. “You’ll fuck anything with a vagina except me? Is that it?”

“No,” I growl. “You’re my best friend’s little sister.”

“So if I was just some bimbo at a bar, you’d have fucked me six ways to Sunday already? Is that how it goes?” She doesn’t sound hurt, she’s pissed. “You’re a fucking asshole.”

I grab her before she can storm off again. “And you’re a goody two-shoes who uses every opportunity to remind me of that.”

“Well, if the shoe fits...” she barks right back, her eyes narrowing in at me.

“Fine, you want to be treated like one of my girls? Fucked to oblivion and then tossed out like yesterday’s trash? Because I guarantee it’s not going to be anything like you read in your romance books.”

She stares at me, mouth agape, her breasts pushing up with every deep breath.

“That’s what I thought.”

Before I can back away, she lunges at me. Her lips press against mine, opening my mouth with her tongue as her hands grab my drawstrings and palms my cock bare.

A hungry moan releases from my throat at the urgent way she touches me. Her hand is firm and every motion is calculated to get me off. I’ve never seen this side of Viola before and a part of me wonders if this is a side I bring out in her or if she’s always been like this.

“Fuck me like one of your whores, Travis,” she says as I kiss down her neck.

“You’re not a whore,” I tell her, meaning it.

“Can’t I be just for one night?” She sounds desperate, and I can’t find it in myself to deny her any longer.

“We play by my rules, Viola.” I pull her earlobe in between my teeth, feeling her shiver against me. She doesn’t respond. “Do you understand?” I tilt her chin so she looks up at me. “You fight me and you’ll end up hurt. Got it?”

Her eyes glass over as she nods. “I won’t break.”

“Don’t be so sure,” I say, pressing my lips back to hers. I wrap a hand back around her neck, guiding my tongue inside her mouth as I palm her breast with my other hand. Everything about Viola Fisher screams perfection. Her tits fit just right in my hand, her full lips capture every motion I give her, and her body responds in all the right ways. Even her moans tell me exactly what I need to hear.

“How many times can you make yourself come?” I ask against her lips, but she doesn’t respond. “I want to know your magic number. Tell me.”

“I don’t know...three, maybe?”

I smirk against her lips, pulling her lower lip in between my teeth. “I can do three in my sleep, princess. I hope you’re ready.”

She has no idea just what she’s asked for.