Page 83 of Wilting Violets

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My hopeful heart still held onto the fantasy that we could possibly have that. Or a different version of that.

“They don’t know you’re here?” I clarified.

“It’s not a prison, Violet.”

I bristled at the reference.

“I’d leave it,” he continued, still drawing circles. “For you.”

My heart stammered. My lungs burned. He was telling me he’d give up everything he knew and loved.

For me.

What every girl wanted to hear.

Except it wasn’t.

Elden’s world had imploded when he was eighteen. He lost his entire family. Had to become a whole different person.

And if I asked him to, he’d give up the club. Which would mean he’d have to become an entirely new person without the Sons of Templar. And even if he managed that, Swiss would still find him. We would still have to see him. And my mom. And my club.

Because they were family. One you didn’t escape. It wasn’t a prison. But it was a life that didn’t let you go.

Now it was my turn to do the alpha move and reposition us so I was on top of Elden, straddling him, pressing myself against him so we both gasped in pleasure. We should’ve been satiated. It should’ve been physically impossible for us to have any more sex. Yet Elden stiffening underneath and my body priming itself in preparation for him communicated that it was indeed possible.

My hands landed on either side of his head as I hovered above him. I kept my naked body pressed as close to his naked body as was humanly possible.

“You’re not leaving the club,” I informed him, my mouth inches away from his.

“Is that an order?” he smiled, hands on my hips, positioning me so he pressed against my entrance.

My body quivered in anticipation.

“Yes, that is an order,” I whispered. “You are not to ruin your life for me.”

His firm heat rubbed along my sensitive core. “Not possible, baby. My life was in ruins before you.”

I didn’t have the time to respond in any kind of way to that because he was inside.

We barely slept the rest of the night.

But eventually, we did sleep. Eventually, we had to wake up

Eventually, we had to say goodbye.

My back was against my car. Elden’s hands were at my neck. His lips were on mine.

We had been like this for quite some time.

If I had my way, we’d be like this forever.

“I have to leave,” I complained against his lips.

“Me too,” he agreed. Then he kissed me again.

His phone buzzed in his pocket.

It had been doing that. The phone, and my repeated arguments, were the reason he wasn’t trailing me on his bike all the way back to Providence.


Tags: Anne Malcom Romance