Bates Motel: Justin Bieber

Chapter 19

  Justin walked into the room to find Violet taking off her heels. “What are you doing?” He asked, closing the door and locking it. He only locked it so Violet could have a little quiet time. She looked tired.

“These shoes hurt,” she complained trying to unhook the strap. Justin bent down and helped her.

“These shoes do wonders to your legs,” he smirked as he took her last shoe off. She leaned back onto the bed and almost rubbed her eyes, but then remembered she had makeup on, she frowned. Justin laid down next to her, feeling exhausted.

“I feel like doing something crazy, but there's this thing in my mind saying no.”

“That's called your conscience,” Justin chuckled. “Don't listen to it. It ruins everything.”

“What if my conscience is telling me to not kiss you right now?” She said seductively . . . Drunkenly, but seductively. Neither of them knew where her sudden burst of confidence came from, other than the fact she was drunk.

Justin raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Then don't listen,” He finally whispered and hovered right over her lips. Her eyes flickered to his tongue that darted out to wet his lips. And Justin did the impossible. He leaned down and kissed her. Roughly.

For Violet, she could barely comprehend what was going on, her mind was clouded with unsettling darkness that wouldn't let her just stop and think about what was happening.

Fuck, this is so wrong. Justin's conscience told him. But he never listened to his conscience. Why would he? He just told Violet not to listen to hers, and now look where they ended up. His conscience has been telling him to live a boring life since the start . . . so he didn't listen.

Violet hooked her legs around Justin's hips and he felt up her thigh. Violet wasn't thinking straight, her conscience was drowned out by Justin's husky moans because she couldn't hear it anymore.

“Kitten,” he growled, pinning her arms to the bed. He kissed down her neck and her back arched. “We have to stop.” But he just continued his kissing and sucking just to hear her moans. They were breathy and undeniably hot to him.

Violet smirked, “Justin, I don't care--“

“Damn it!” He yelled, jumping off of her. Just a couple seconds ago he was about to pull out a condom from his pocket, but something clicked in his brain. His shirt was off and his chest was glistening with sweat from the dim light the lamp gave off. He looked towards Violet, her black dress hiked up her legs and her eyes hooded and filled with lust. But he knew if he satisfied the lust she felt for him, her eyes would soon be filled with regret.

He couldn't let that happen.

So he grabbed his shirt and left.

“Justin!” She yelled after him. She pulled down her dress, grabbed her shoes, and ran out the door. She saw his figure down the hall and raced toward him. “Wait!” She looked ridiculous, running down the hall like a lunatic. If no one had known better, they'd think she was freshly-fucked trying to chase back her one night stand.

“Justin, what's wrong?”

“What's wrong? I almost had sex with you, Violet,” he hissed. “I would have--“ He stopped, blowing it off. He continued walking, but Violet pulled him back.

“I wanted to. It felt right.”

“It wasn't. You're fucking dumb and drunk. I'm taking you home,” he scoffed. He was pissed, mostly at himself. But he was pissed at Violet for a reason he couldn't understand. He was the one who got her drunk, he was the one who convinced her to not listen to her pleading conscience, and he was the one who kissed her.