“Seriously, I can’t take you anywhere,” I muttered to her when I moved closer, her pupils so dilated they hid almost all the green.
“Ryder,” she purred, rubbing herself against me.
I immediately stiffened, my chest tightening and my muscles locking before I forced myself to relax.
“She’s mine,” I said to the three people standing way too close. “And I don’t share, sorry.”
“Hey, she came on to us,” one of the men said, backing away when I turned my gaze to him. When they’d given us space, I returned my attention to Violet.
“What have you taken?” I asked, gripping her arm to try and stop her from wriggling and moaning quietly.JesusChrist.“Violet, did someone give you a drink?”
She shoved at me weakly. “Of course not. I’m not an idiot,” she said, pouting at me. “I bought one myself at the bar.”
I began to chuckle, especially since she was starting to rub herself against my side again. Only this time my brain didn’t short-circuit because clearly out of the two of us, I was in control. “Just one? Did you even ask what was in it?”
She shook her head, the movement causing her hair to fall gracefully from her shoulders. “I’m so hot.” She reached for the hem of her dress, lifting it up to expose her pretty thong.
I caught her hand, letting the fabric drop back down. “What drink was it, Violet?”
“Ryder…” she moaned, her cheeks and the tops of her breasts flushed.
Jesus-fucking-Christ with this girl.
“Violet, what drink?—”
“The pink one,” she finally answered, her voice all breathy.
“Ah, yeah, I think it’s time to get you out of here.”
Chapter 18
Ryder
Of course it was the pink one.
Look at her, she was a walking beacon of pastels and girly colours. Naturally she’d pick the pink drink, the one laced with just enough not-so-legal chemicals to stir up a cocktail of hypersexuality.
In plain terms, she was horny.
Caught somewhere between euphoric bliss and drug-fuelled heat.
Her fingers danced over my arm, her little moans going straight to my cock. Needing to get her out of here before she gave everyone a show, I picked her up and threw her over my shoulder.
“Ryder!” she squealed, her dress coming up to reveal her bare arse.
If I were a gentleman, I would block everyone from looking, but I wasn’t. Instead, I squeezed her tighter against my shoulder to stop her from wriggling.
“You’re high,” I explained, taking the stairs up to the station above.
The moment we stepped back into the underground, I set her down, unsteady on her feet but upright. No way Icould carry her through one of the busiest stations in London without drawing stares… and probably an arrest.
“Something’s wrong,” she said, her hands rubbing against her breasts in a provocative way. “My skin feels hot.”
She began to lift the hem of her dress again, revealing creamy thighs and lilac lace.
Christ.
“I’d stop that unless you want to be arrested for indecent exposure.” I grabbed her hand, nodding to the man who stared open-mouthed by the tiled wall. “Evening, mate.”
