Page 56 of Knight

Did he mean for that to happen? Or was this an emotional fling? Preparing myself for disaster, I try to lift his arm from where it lays, across my tits. But when I do, it’s like he’s got a lock on me. He growls, “Where do you think you’re going?”

His voice is a croak, a sexy little morning rasp and god, I wish I hadn’t heard it. “We should get going. Willow’s going to be wondering where I went off to again.”

Leaning back to look at him I catch him opening an eye, his blue one. It catches the sun and it’s the brightest blue I’ve ever seen on him. Like a sparkling, inviting ocean. “You have time. Just …” His grip tightens. “A little longer.” The way he’s holding me like I’m his makes me want to do just that. Stay here. Forever.

But I don’t want to give him the wrong message. I don’t want to give myself the wrong message. “But—”

“Don’t overthink it, Rowland.”

Damn, he already knows me enough to say that. With a small smile, I settle into his hold again. How can someone so cold be so warm and inviting at the same damn time? It’s a contrast to that hard exterior. A side reserved for me.

When he kisses my neck, his fingers trail up my naked stomach to the tip of my nipple and I’m already thinking of our last night’s romp.

“You want a morning with the King?” There’s something hard growing against my ass and when he climbs on top of me, that mischievous grin on his face, I know he’s thinking about it too. “Sometimes, I like to work out. Coach says it helps to keep my head in the game. Want to work out with me?” So that’s how he keeps that body so fit. “And by working out I mean burying my cock deep inside that sweet hole.”

My arms wrap around him, shutting up his crass words before I fall into his lips again. We’re going for what … round six at this point? And I can’t get enough. It’s like we bottle up all our tension until we’re together, then we unleash it on each other. The result?

Fireworks.

Heavenly clouds.

Hell’s flames.

I’m in bliss, closing my eyes when he enters me again but he stops mid-thrust to regain that dominance he loves to thwart. “Eyes on me, Jo.” And they’re so sickeningly beautiful it’s easy to get lost in them as I ride that wave to another hard, rolling climax.

DING-DONG!

As I’m coming back to earth, the doorbell slows Damien out of his pace, smirk fading, eyes narrowing.

DING-DONG!

“Shit,” he mutters. When he pulls out, I’m quick to reach for some clothes, that morning rushing back to my head. While I know I didn’t kill Sebastien now, it still leaves a sick feeling in my stomach. A hard, tightness in my chest.

“Stay—” He pauses and I’m grateful he didn’t say the words he uttered last time. His pants are on when he goes to the window, looking out into the driveway. “The fuck? Perez?”

“Christian?”

DING-DONG! DING-DONG!

So much for a peaceful morning.

Pulling on Damien’s sweater, I make my way to the door, ignoring my surroundings until Christian’s face greets me.

“Morning!”

Christian’s at the door in his hockey jersey, a big brown bag in his hand that he’s hoisted to his face. He sounds like Mr. fucking Rogers and looks like him too, all fresh and ready for the day in a crisp ERA uniform. Blazer and all. His hair looks slick like he’s fresh out of the shower.

“Are you stalking me?” There’s no way I was sending Damien to the door after finding out who was standing there. There’s been enough blood spilled in this house.

“What? No,” he snorts, walking by me into the foyer like I’ve let him in, a waft of his cologne moving with him. “Thought I’d bring you some provisions after a night of hanging with Johnny Ramone.” He reaches into the bag, pulling out plastic containers before laying them out on the island. At least he’s making this place feel a little more normal. A little less tainted.

“What the fuck are you doing here, Perez?” It was only a matter of time before Damien came down here. I told him to give us a minute and that’s exactly what he gave. One minute. But he doesn’t sound mad. Doesn’t sound aggravated. Just tired. And I can’t help but think that I’m the one who calmed the beast and tired him out. With my vagina.

“Like you didn’t hear me the first time,” Christian responds, settling into one of the stools in front of the island. “I come in peace. If I’m going to lose the hottest chick in town to a guy from ERA, at least it’s you.”

Christian pops open a container, revealing pancakes, eggs, and hashbrowns and I’m happy to hear he’s not holding a grudge, but my appetite is gone again. You’d think after all our “working out” I’d be ready to indulge, but sitting so close to where someone died isn’t that appetite-inducing.

“At least you didn’t come empty-handed,” Damien leans against the wall, arms crossed, chest bare. He watches as I push the plate away, immediately chiming in, “You’re not eating that?”

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