Sweet Touch of Venom (Lethal Love #1)

38. Venom

Chapter 38

Venom

W icked Mal stands outside my door with her hands raised, two glasses in one hand and a bottle of something brown in the other and a white plastic bag with two Styrofoam plates.

“Tequila with fish and chips?” She smiles. A genuine smile. Unlike the wicked one she normally wears, this one softens her features. “And before you go saying anything, the guys already left to check everything out. So, we are free until then.”

He already left? When was he even here? I’m not sure why that bothers me.

I chew on the side of my lip, my stomach rumbling at the food; an irritation settles like a pit in my stomach. I don’t see why I’m bothered. He’s only reciprocating exactly what I want.

Or maybe because we were supposed to be going together to scope out Victor’s place before the ball started.

“Come on.” Wicked taunts me by shaking the bottle and rocking her hips like she is doing the samba.

I brush away the uncomfortable bubbles surfacing below. “Okay, but only because you’re practically begging me.”

She chuckles, brushing past me. “Oh, please. You know you wanted some company in this big ass room.” She walks to the open balcony doors, sets the bottle down with the food, and then pours the glasses to the brim.

“Shit, are you trying to give me alcohol poisoning?” I ask incredulously as I sit down, my face scrunching at the liquor nearly leaking off the rim.

“Oh stop. You can’t handle it, Cinderella?”

“I can handle a lot of things, but the one thing I will never do is purposely destroy my liver.”

“One night won’t hurt you.” She smiles while lifting the shot glass. I tip my eyes to the gleaming star in the sky. I’ve never been prone to giving into peer pressure. But fuck it. I take the glass and tap it against Mal’s; some liquid drips down my fingers. Then I toss the tequila back. My face scrunches like I bit into a lemon as the burn sets in my throat, eventually settling in my chest.

“Gosh, you’re a horrible bartender. Where’s the lemon to cover this disaster?” I smack my chest; my mouth is numb and watering. Drool pools out of my mouth. Mal only looks at me, laughing harder than I ever heard. Then I burst out with laughter. The sudden notion shocks me.

“Want another one?”

I chuckle some more. “Yes.” I drag the cup back to her. We clink again and take the shot. It burns, although not as bad as the first one. My body settles into the chair, relaxation taking over. She pulls out the food trays, and it reminds me of how hungry I am.

“Hope you like fish and chip,” she says, pushing the plate over.

“Anything would do. I’m starving.” I take the lid off the plate. “Thank you for the food.”

“It’s no problem, we need something to soak up all of this.” She taps the bottle.

Okay, I am not drinking that whole thing.

I dig in, biting into the perfectly battered fish. God, fuck; that’s delicious.

Wicked Mal digs into her fries. “This is nice,” she says, chewing, but her eyes never leave the flickering stars above. “Being around men for nearly ten years becomes a bit sad. It’s nice to fight beside another badass bitch like me.” She looks over with a mischievous smile, flipping her ponytail back.

I swallow the meat, my body becoming light and fuzzy. It’s delicious. “How long have you known Ronan?”

She releases a breath. “Since I was fifteen.”

“Wow, it’s been a long time.”

She nods, pouring more liquor into her glass while biting her fish. Bedford was not wrong.

But I scoot mine over. Also reminding myself of a limit. I still have a mission to fulfill tomorrow.

I chew my food, and we toss back our drinks. She howls out an agonizing groan. Her face scrunches. “Fuck that’s deadly.” She chuckles before relaxing again. “I wanted to say I’m sorry about your brother.”

I look at the glass in my hands; pain rubs along my heart.

“I know it was so long ago, but no one really gets over someone they loved the most.”

I glance over at her, my mouth more numb than ever. “Thank you.”

She flicks a French fry on the plate like she is contemplating if she should say what’s on her mind. “My parents died right in front of me.” Her voice is low.

My eyes drop, sorrow rising in my gut. “I’m so sorry. I couldn’t imagine how hard that must have been.”

She nods slowly, eyes searching the distant buildings. “Shot right in the head. After the men were paid their money. They still killed her.” Mal’s eyes slowly close, pain surfacing over them. It only makes me feel like shit. Time replays back in my head. That’s why she reacted the way she did, why Ronan gave me a look of death at that moment. I asked her if her parents taught her manners.

I had triggered her.

Someone murdered them in cold blood.

I find myself reaching over to touch her shoulder gently. “I’m sorry I didn’t know.”

“How could you? We didn’t know each other.”

I nod softly. “You’re right, but I still shouldn’t have said that. It was wrong. I’m sorry.” And I mean it.

She wipes a tear that escaped. “It’s okay. I told Ronan I would chop your head off, then shoot you if you coughed the wrong way. So, I guess we’re even.” She looks at me with a serious face. And I stare back. Before we both burst out again with a loud laugh, my chest hurts from all the laughter. I slap my hand on my bare leg and her hand slams on the table.

Yes, I’m drunk. I laugh some more, letting out all my pinned up frustration.

“That’s brutal as fuck,” I say, pushing my bang to the side.

An invisible, weight lifting from me.

Once Wicked leaves, I’m left alone in my room. My body hits the plush covers like I’m laying directly on a bed of feathers. My skin tingles and my body rings.

This is the most freeing I’ve ever felt, and all it took was throwing back a couple of shots and eating dinner with Wicked Mal, of all people. She’s not so bad. Behind the malicious glare, there’s a little girl. Lost and somber. Just like me.

I stretch out my arms, arching my back. My clothes give off an itchy, irritable scratch, so I strip each garment off one by one until I’m only in my thongs. The balcony doors are parted, bringing in a gentle breeze and soft white noise. My thoughts divert to Ronan.

I wonder if he’s okay. I never cared before, so why now?

I just do, that’s normal!

I can’t take my mind off the way he touched me, how he kissed me. The softness of his mouth and the moan that poured from me. Every dry thrust he returned, hitting my sensitive spot I need touched again, badly. I know it’s been weeks since that moment, but it still invades my mind, staining it like a tattoo.

A throbbing sensation tingles on my clit. My nipples harden, thinking of when he lifted me, grinding into my pussy with his thick cock.

My fingers glide up my waist, the tiny stimulation heightened from the liquid resting in my streams. I land on my nipple, my breath becoming harder. I give it a pinch; another spark shoots through my body, landing right below my thighs. I spread my legs, dipping my fingers into the panties and digging the fabric into my hot wetness. Letting his old semen coat my pussy. This is as close to him as I’m going to get.

I let out a moan, my back arching off the bed. I imagine Ronan kissing me, then tearing off my shirt and diving to my breasts, licking and sucking my hard nipples. I fuck myself slowly, rubbing my pussy and making sure my panties stay in contact. Happy with the lather of his cum and my arousal, I push the panties to the side and dip my fingers in, my head presses into the plush pillows as my moans pours out into the air. I guess for one night I can let down the walls.

And think about the only man that can ever make me feel this way.