Page 63 of Pose for Me

I'm hovering in that hazy space between wakefulness and sleep, lulled by River's warmth and the rhythmic motion of his fingers in my hair, when suddenly, everything changes.

In a move so swift I can barely follow it, River twists behind me. There's a soft metallic click, and suddenly his gun is out, aimed unerringly at the studio doorway. The weapon seems to have materialized out of thin air–one moment we were cuddling peacefully, the next River is coiled and ready to strike, all trace of softness gone from his body.

My heart leaps into my throat, adrenaline flooding my system. I hadn't heard a thing, but River's reaction tells me something is wrong. My eyes dart to the doorway, following the line of River's aim.

And there, standing silently in the threshold, is Knox.

His posture is relaxed, hands tucked casually in his pockets, but there's a dangerous glint in his eyes. "Good boy… Nice reflexes," Knox says, his eyes flick from River's gun to my face, then back again.

I scramble out of the bed, my heart racing. "Knox! What did you find out?" I ask urgently, my voice tinged with anxiety.

Knox's expression remains impassive as he meets my gaze. "Secure the studio," he says simply, his tone brooking no argument. Without another word, he strides over to the little cabinet where I keep my shoes.

I frown, confusion and frustration warring within me. Part of me wants to demand answers immediately, but I know better than to push Knox when he's in this mood. With a resigned sigh, I move to shut down my computer, fingers flying over the keyboard as I close programs and save files.

As I work, I can hear Knox rummaging through the cabinet, the soft rustle of fabric and the quiet thud of shoes being moved aside. The normalcy of the sound is at odds with the tension thrumming through the air.

I grab my keys from their usual spot on my desk, the metal cool against my palm. The familiar weight grounds me, a small anchor in the storm of uncertainty swirling around me.

When I turn back, Knox is approaching with a pair of my most comfortable flats in hand. Without a word, he kneels before me, his movements fluid and graceful despite his imposing size. I watch, transfixed, as he gently lifts my foot, sliding the shoe on with a tenderness that makes my heart clench.

He repeats the process with the other foot, his touch lingering perhaps a moment longer than strictly necessary. As he finishes, his hands begin a slow, sensuous journey up my legs. His palms are warm against my skin, leaving trails of heat in their wake.

Knox's fingers trace over my calves, skimming over my knees and continuing their ascent along my thighs. When his hands reach my hips, Knox pauses. His hazel eyes, flecked with gold and green, lock with mine. There's an intensity in his gaze that steals my breath, a mix of desire, protectiveness, and something deeper.

In one fluid motion, Knox rises to his feet, his hands never leaving my body. As he stands, he pulls me up with him, drawing me flush against his chest. I can feel the solid warmth of him through his shirt, the steady thrum of his heartbeat against my palm.

For a moment, we stand there, bodies pressed together, breathing in sync. The world around us seems to fade away, narrowing down to just this—the heat of Knox's body, the strength of his arms around me, the depth of emotion in his eyes.

Knox leans in, his lips brushing against my ear as he whispers, his voice low and husky. "When I walked in and saw you and River together, it felt like coming home." He presses a soft kiss to my temple, his breath warm against my skin. "Seeing you two together, it felt right in a way I can't even begin to explain."

Another kiss, this time to my cheek. "It was like all the pieces of my life finally falling into place." His lips ghost over my jaw, feather-light. "You have no idea how long I've dreamed of this, of having both of you."

Knox pulls back slightly, his eyes boring into mine with an intensity that steals my breath. "It meant everything to me, Rayne. Everything."

Before I can respond, Knox takes my hand in his, his grip firm and reassuring. He turns, leading me towards where River waits by the door. For a moment, my heart races, thinking of the stalker potentially watching us. But Knox's demeanor is calm, almost casual. There's no tension in his shoulders, no wariness in his movements. Whatever he discovered during his absence, it clearly alleviated some of his immediate concerns.

As we step out of the studio, the late afternoon sun bathes everything in a warm, golden glow. River turns back to the door, his movements fluid and practiced. I watch, bemused, as he produces a key from his pocket—a key I definitely didn't give him. The lock clicks into place with a soft, satisfying sound.

I raise an eyebrow at him, a mix of exasperation and amusement tugging at my lips. "Really?" I ask, jingling my own set of keys pointedly.

River's response is a grin that's equal parts mischievous and unrepentant. His eyes dance with barely contained glee as he pockets the key with a flourish. "What can I say?" he quips, his voice light and teasing. "We like to be prepared."

Before I can question him further, Knox's hand finds the small of my back, gently guiding me towards the curb. Parked there is a sleek, navy blue car. Its polished surface gleams, exuding an aura of quiet power and luxury.

Knox opens the passenger door and I slide into the seat, the supple leather cool against my skin. Knox gently closes the door behind me, the soft thud resonating with a sense of finality. Through the tinted windows, I watch him walk around the front of the car, his movements fluid and purposeful. The fading sunlight catches on his dark hair, highlighting the hints of auburn hidden in the rich brown strands.

River slides into the back seat, but instead of settling back, he drapes himself over my seat. His presence is warm and solid behind me, his breath tickling my ear as he leans forward. The scent of his cologne - a heady mix of sandalwood and something distinctly masculine - envelops me.

Knox slips into the driver's seat, his large frame fitting perfectly in the space. With a press of a button, the engine purrs to life, a low, powerful rumble that I can feel vibrating through the seat. He pulls away from the curb with smooth precision, merging effortlessly into the flow of evening traffic. He drives the car like it’s a part of him, and he has full control over it like he does with everything else.

The silence in the car is thick, almost palpable. Questions swirl in my mind, a tornado of curiosity and anxiety that threatens to overwhelm me.

I watch as Knox moves, the muscles in his arm flexing as he changes gears. The sleek car responds instantly to his touch, accelerating smoothly as we make our way through town. The leather-wrapped steering wheel seems like a natural extension of his body, his large hands gripping it with casual confidence.

My eyes trace the line of his forearm, admiring the way his rolled-up sleeve only accentuates the intricate tattoos beneath. The inked swirls and lines disappear under the crisp white fabric, making me want to trace the artwork hidden from view.

"You dropped thousands on the shoot," I muse aloud, my gaze sweeping over the luxurious interior of the car. The dashboard gleams with high-end tech, while the seats cradle us in sumptuous leather. "And now this car... It looks like some sort of very expensive extension to your cock."

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