Page 11 of My Bad Boy Valentine

“That was fantastic,” I sighed once we finished, leaning back contentedly. “I might need to skip breakfast tomorrow.”

“Same,” Knox agreed, patting his stomach. “I’ll have to do an extra set of lifts to burn it off.”

I grinned, imagining him at the gym, sweat glistening over that muscled torso. A flush crept up my neck at the mental image. Clearing my throat, I slipped on my coat. “Shall we?”

“Yeah,” he murmured, rising from his seat. “Let’s.”

As we walked out, the bar’s patrons turned to watch. I noted the cluster of older townsfolk in a corner booth who gawked openly, no doubt fueling the rumor mill that had probably already started swirling. Yet instead of shrinking away, keeping a respectable distance from Knox, I found myself leaning into him, allowing him to place his arm around my waist as we maneuvered through the crowd. The gesture felt both protective and possessive, and I loved it. I want this, I thought, and I’m not apologizing for it.

Outside, the cold air slapped my cheeks, making me shiver. I spotted a shadowy figure loitering by a distant lamppost across the street, and a flicker of unease pricked my mind. But the person turned away, and I told myself it was just another curious local. My phone buzzed in my purse, startling me. I fished it out, reading the message on the screen:

Dad:Caroline Rose. Your mother and I want to see you…Immediately.

A heavy sigh escaped me. I didn’t want to face them right now. I’d bet one of their cronies had texted them about seeing me with Knox at Skyline. I slipped the phone back into my purse, switching it to silent.

“Everything okay?” Knox asked, noticing my tense expression.

I forced a smile. “It’s nothing important. My parents, probably wanting me to come over. But honestly…” I let the sentence hang, turning to face him. “I’m enjoying spending time with you more.”

His brows lifted, eyes warming. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” I confirmed. The distant streetlights caught in his tattoos, highlighting the lines crawling along his neck. I wanted to trace them with my fingers. “So…did you want to call it a night?”

He hesitated, then said in a low rumble, “Linzie’s staying over at a friend’s place. If you’d like… we could head back to my place.”

Heat flared in my abdomen, my pulse kicking into high gear. I wasn’t naive enough to misread his intent—and I didn’t want to. “I’d like that,” I whispered.

The drive to Knox’s apartment above the cycle shop felt simultaneously too long and too short. We kept glancing at each other, a tension building between us that no words could break. By the time we parked, my heart was thrumming like I’d run a marathon.

He led me upstairs, flipping on a single lamp that cast a warm glow over the space. It was the same living room where we’d had our intense conversation about Linzie just a day earlier. But now, the air felt charged with a different energy—anticipation, desire. My stomach fluttered.

Knox turned to me, hesitating. “Caroline,” he murmured, stepping closer. The smell of him—soap, his spicy aftershave, and that underlying masculine scent—left me lightheaded. “I… I want this, but I don’t want you to feel pressured.”

My heart squeezed. “I don’t feel pressured. I want this too.”

His dark eyes flicked over my face, searching for any sign of doubt. Apparently satisfied, he lifted a hand to cup my cheek. The calluses of his palm brushed my skin, sending a jolt of longing straight to my core. Slowly, he leaned in, and this time, neither of us pulled away. Our lips met in a soft, exploratory kiss that deepened almost instantly, fueled by the longing we’d both suppressed.

I moaned quietly, tangling my fingers in his hair. He groaned in response, his free arm wrapping around my waist to pull me flush against him. My body ignited at the contact, warmth flooding my veins. We stumbled backward until my back hit the wall near the couch. His mouth traveled from my lips to the curve of my neck, each kiss eliciting soft gasps from me.

We fumbled our way to his bedroom, a mess of clothes and half-drawn curtains. But I couldn’t care less about the disarray. He kicked the door shut, pushing me up against it. Our breaths mingled in frantic, hungry kisses, hands tugging at each other’s clothes. His T-shirt came off, revealing sculpted muscles and swirling tattoos across his chest. I ran my palms along the contours, mesmerized.

“You’re beautiful,” he rasped, tugging my sweater over my head. I flushed at the intensity in his gaze. My bra was next, falling away to bare my breasts to his heated eyes.

He captured one nipple in his mouth, suckling gently, and I arched against him, fire blazing between my thighs. Asoft cry escaped my lips. The pent-up tension we’d shared for days ignited into raw urgency. I reached down, unfastening his jeans, feeling the hardness straining beneath. He hissed when I brushed my palm against him.

“Bed,” I managed, voice shaky. He scooped me up, carrying me the few steps to the bed. My boots and leggings were yanked off in a flurry, his jeans following suit. I had a moment of self-consciousness, but the pure hunger in his stare banished any doubt.

He knelt between my parted thighs, eyes trailing over every inch of me. “So damn gorgeous,” he muttered, leaning down to press hot, open-mouthed kisses along my belly, traveling lower until his breath caressed my most sensitive spot.

A startled moan tore from my throat as he buried his mouth between my legs, his tongue finding a rhythm that sent electric pulses racing through me. I clutched the bedsheets, toes curling, a rush of heat coiling in my lower abdomen. Every flick and swirl of his tongue brought me closer to the edge, pleasure building rapidly. My breath hitched, and I surrendered to the onslaught of sensation, crying out as waves of ecstasy crashed over me.

Knox slowed, kissing back up my trembling body. I gazed at him through half-lidded eyes, desire still thrumming. With a shaky breath, I pushed him onto his back, eager to return the favor. Leaning forward, I pressed kisses down his chest, following the lines of tattoos until I reached his lower abdomen. He sucked in a breath, muscles tensing.

I slid my hand along his length, stroking carefully before taking him in my mouth. He groaned, a deep guttural sound, his fingers tangling in my hair. The feel of him, heavy and hot against my tongue, was intoxicating. I hollowed my cheeks, finding a steady rhythm, listening to his ragged moans. Powersurged through me as he mumbled my name, voice rough with need.

After a few more moments, he gently tugged my hair, pulling me back up. “I need you,” he growled, eyes flashing.

I swung a leg over his hips, straddling him. Feeling the hard press of him beneath me unleashed a feral hunger. Slowly, I sank down, taking him inside me. A gasp tore from both our throats at the union. I began to move, riding him in rolling thrusts, each motion fanning the embers of lust we’d ignited. Our bodies found a sync that felt natural, like we’d been made to fit this way.

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