Page 92 of In the Long Run
‘We’ve already cleared the air.We’re okay now.’Knox’s hands skate down my back, avoiding my welts, and I know that’s on purpose.A weary smile appears on his face.‘You ever get tired of doing all the stuff you should do?Rather than what you want to do?’
I rise up and press a kiss into the corner of his mouth.‘I have some experience with that, yes.’
‘I can go back to bed if you two want to be alone,’ Eugene calls.‘Don’t want to cramp your style.’
‘He sounds sad.’I nudge Knox towards the hall.‘Go on, I’ll see you tomorrow.Run?Bring Madeleine and Chouquette for the warm-up?’
Knox licks his lips and runs his hands through his hair.‘Or you could stay?Hang out with us both?Eugene would like that, and so would I.’
And that’s how I find myself on Eugene’s couch, Chouquette on one side and Knox on the other, a plate of naan and butter chicken on my lap and Knox’s hand on my knee.Eugene and I outvote Knox and subject him to a marathon ofThe Great British Bake Off.
It’s relaxed.
And easy.
And exactly how I want to spend every night.
It’s dark when I wake up.Soft light spills out of the bathroom down the hall.
I blink.We’re still on the couch.Leftover dinner dishes litter the coffee table.I have no idea when I fell asleep, but I don’t want to leave.Knox is stretched out behind me, my back pressed against his chest.Otherthingsare pressed together as well, and I want to push back, see if I can get him to make some more of those noises he made in the shower.
‘Halliday,’ Knox moans behind me, and my nipples harden.He rocks his hips against my ass.I can’t tell if he’s awake or not though.
Trying to roll over requires a level of grace I don’t possess, and I teeter on the edge of the couch for one perfect slow motion second before crashing to the floor.
Knox sits up quickly and rubs his eyes.‘Jesus, Gen, are you okay?’
I sit up and massage my hip.‘I’m fine.’
‘What time is it?’
It’s after eleven according to my phone.I have two messages from Caleb asking where I am.The third is a string of eggplants and question marks.I fire one back quickly, confirming I’m with Knox.
‘Guess we fell asleep, huh?’
Rumpled Knox is one of my favourite versions of him.There are pillow creases on his cheeks and his stubble is all shadowy.I bet it would feel so scratchy against my face … my thighs.
‘I should go,’ I whisper, trying to remember what I did with my keys.
‘Or’—Knox holds out his hands, helps me up—‘you could stay.’
‘Would that be okay with Eugene?What are the rules?’
‘I think “the rules” expired when I was eighteen.Come on.I want to see you in my bed.Wake up with you again.’
How’s a girl supposed to say no to that?
I let him lead me down the hall, past Eugene’s closed door and the bathroom.I stop short when I see the king single bed.
‘We’re not going to fit,’ I whisper.
‘We’ll make it work.’Knox tugs me into the room before fiddling with the bottom of my jumper.‘Might be too warm for this though.’
I lift my arms, silently asking him to help me undress.Knox swallows before lifting the hoodie off me.My mouth waters when he steps out of his tracksuit pants, leaving them in a heap.
His body’s ridiculous.I was in awe of it the other day, but now seeing it bathed in moonlight, it’s like he’s been carved from stone.All sharp lines, stacked muscles and strength wrapped up in the perfect Knox-shaped package.
Speaking of packages… his cock is already hard, the outline clear against his boxer briefs.I want to get on my knees.Make him come undone again.
