Chapter 21
VIOLET
I was always s**t at gambling.
Risk was never my friend, and beneath the business skirt suit? I was as straight-laced as they came. It was one of the reasons my ex told me he strayed, and two years later, the flaw haunts me like a f*****g phantom.
I feel it even now.
And if it weren’t for the cheap tequila in my system, the supremely sexy moonlight that shines through Heath Sparrow’s penthouse windows and the even sexier man himself, I wouldn’t take the wager—to sacrifice my heart and head on the altar that is Heath’s bed.
But I can’t stop myself.
I want him more than sanity.
The grin he gives me at my answer is enough to make me melt on the spot and when he puts his full mouth back on my body, his touch is no longer a caress, his tongue no longer gentle at all.
