Chef's Kiss

Off the Clock

Violet

The boys convinced me to ride with them, and I'd wanted to drink a little at the party anyway so I took them up on the offer. On the car ride over, Nick and I danced in the back and got hyped up as we took turns choosing songs. When we parked the car, music poured from the backyard and my excitement soared. I fucking loved parties. The four of us walked to the backyard together, Matt and Nick at the front, Chris and I at the back, and he rapped the lyrics to a song pouring from the backyard speakers, pretending he was on a stage just for me, walking backwards and holding a pretend mic. He turned to walk beside me again and I laughed at his antics, taking him by the arm, hugging it and leaning my head against his shoulder for a moment, showing my appreciation for him without words. It came as naturally as breathing, and we separated just as naturally a moment later.

Midway through the party, I stood in the large marble kitchen, surrounded by people and music and alcohol, nursing my beer, when Matt appeared at my side.

"Were you hitting on Chris today?" He asked, completely fucking blindsiding me. I guess my plan worked.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," I pretended, sipping my beer and looking into his blue eyes. His tongue peeked out to run along his bottom lip and my eyes traced the movement. He turned then to stand in front of me, and I felt myself shrink in his presence.

"Yes you do," he accused, crowding me, heat moving up my back as I looked up into his eyes. I leaned my ass and my hands back against the counter and quickly regained my confidence, tilting my head at him.

"No, sweetie, I really don't," I replied, squinting at him briefly. "I don't know, maybe you're just seeing things," I lied, hoping to get a rise out of him.

"Violet," he emphasized my name and my blood pulsed in my ears at the sound of it on his lips. "You're too clever for your own fucking good."

I smiled at him then, my head still tilted, and stood up straight. Our eyes stayed tethered, the line between us pulled tight and fit to snap. In the matter of a single moment, we could go from pretending to be strangers to being ready to fucking rip each other's clothes off. I stepped into him, his body shielding mine from view of the rest of the party. My hand reached out to the waistband of his jeans and I traced it with the tip of my finger, our eyes still absorbing each other.

"You really should put me in my place," I teased, biting my lip.

His eyes searched mine as he wasn't fazed by my challenge. I had to smile at what we were doing in that moment. He smiled back to match mine.

"Oh I'm sure you'd fucking love it if I did," he shook his head at me lightly, fighting that smile.

I laughed then, tilting my head back, dropping my hand just the slightest bit to run my long nails along the crotch of his jeans. I reached up to speak into his ear. 

"You have no idea how much I would, baby," I replied, dropping my voice to let him know exactly what I was thinking. I leaned back then to look into his eyes one last time before walking away. He'd had me hooked all week, now it was my turn. I stepped around him and walked out of the kitchen, turning at the last moment to glance back at him. His eyes were on my ass as he glanced up quickly into my eyes and I smiled as I turned the corner out of view, walking directly into someone and spilling my beer on them.

"Holy fuck," Chris exclaimed, steadying me with both hands. "You gotta watch where you're going, Vi." 

"Aw shit, I got beer on your shirt, I'm sorry," I apologized, feeling immediately bad. I knew he didn't drink, I'm sure the last thing he wanted was booze on his clothes.

"Nah don't worry about it, I'll wash it off later," he brushed away my apology, genuinely not caring.

"No if you leave it, it'll smell all night. Come to the bathroom," I tried, taking his hand and leading him through the house. I thought he might protest, but there was something about those two boys and trusting my judgment. They knew how to lead when they wanted to, but they also liked when I made decisions, and I was okay with that. I'd worked for Maverick's father for a while and I knew the layout of the house. We walked into the half bathroom together and shut the door to block out the noise of the party.