“Why do you have to say stuff like that, Viv? You know when you’re around, there’s no one else. I don’t want anyone but you,” he admonished, his teeth scraping along the side of my neck, making me shiver, despite the warmth of the shower.
Enough with the syrupy compliments however messed up they really were. I pulled away, putting some physical distance between us. Cole’s hand dropped from my body.
“Say that to the girl last night,” I muttered, scrubbing the rest of the soap from my face. I was quickly turned around, my back shoved against the cold tile wall.
Cole’s mouth was set into a firm line, his dark brown eyes narrowed. My heart started beating faster. I got such a sick, sadistic joy out of pissing him off. I enjoyed the look of fury that shadowed his face and the way he poured that frustration into making me feel oh so good.
God, what was wrong with me?
I wasn’t some sad, little girl with daddy issues. I didn’t have an abusive family that made me look for affection wherever I could get it. I wasn’t a stereotypical broken woman with no self-respect.
I was raised in a loving home, with two doting parents. I had a good relationship with my older sister and brother. I had been happy and popular in school and had gotten good grades.
There was absolutely nothing in my life that would make it easy to understand how I so willingly entered into this messed up situation. Why I engaged in this dysfunctional tug of war with a man who wasn’t remotely interested in committing to me.
There was nothing in my past that would make you understand why I loved every minute of it so damn much.
All I could say is that my inner drama queen was drawn self-destructively to the only person who could give me the excitement I craved. A man who was just as dramatic and headstrong as I was.
“Stop saying shit like that, Vivian! I’m sick of hearing about it! Karly doesn’t matter…”
“Her name was Karly? Seriously? Well I suppose I should be impressed you took the time to learn her name at all,” I snarked. I couldn’t help it. Cole brought out the ugly jealousy, whether I had a right to feel that way or not.
“Dial the bitch knob down a bit. Or I won’t do this,” he warned, his hand disappearing between my thighs.
My legs buckled instantly and Cole brought his arm around my waist to support me.
I threw my head back, the orgasm brought on by his skilled fingers hitting me with the force of a freight train.
He made me so angry.
And he made me feel so damn good.
I really hated him.
“You’re late,” Maysie remarked as I pulled the chair out from the table and sat down. Her lips were pursed and she was wearing, her best I totally disapprove of everything you are doing expression.
I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, I know.”
Riley Walker, who had flown down to visit her boyfriend, Garrett, the lead guitarist for Generation Rejects, raised her eyebrows.
“What’s with the cattiness, Mays?” she asked, breaking off a bread roll and dunking it in her soup.
I opened the menu and made a show of reading over the items, purposefully ignoring Maysie’s huffiness and Gracie and Riley’s confusion.
“She’s pissed I spent the night with Cole,” I explained blandly.
“He was kissing another girl last night!” Maysie exclaimed. I closed the menu and put it down on the table, folding my hands over it.
Everyone was staying at the Holiday Inn, which was less than a mile from the Granada Theater, where Generation Rejects and Primal Terror had played last night.
The restaurant in the hotel was pretty busy, even for a Sunday afternoon in the middle of February. Though, I noticed none of the guys had made it down from their rooms yet.
They had another show tonight, this one at the House of Blues. I had planned to leave with Gracie before the show to catch our flight back to Dulles Airport in Washington, D.C.