Page 52 of Knot Going Down
The bathroom door opens and Lucas comes out in a puff of hot steam. His hair is down, dripping over his shoulders, and he looks like some kind of sun-kissed sea god fresh from the waves.
“Is everyone still out?” Rather than go to his suitcase, like I expect, he takes a seat on the loveseat across from me, spreading his legs enough for the towel to gape open, a shadowy tease that reveals nothing inappropriate, but makes an obvious suggestion.
Now that the thought of two safe, sweet little betas has crossed my mind, I can’t seem to shake it. I want to take things slow with Emily—it’s clear she needs that. But I’ve been blue balling it since the first day I saw her, and I need a release. I wouldn’t have to go slow with Lucas. The thought creeps in before I can shut it down:Am I using him?
I scrub a hand over my face, the weight of it all pressing down heavier than it should. Lucas is easy to be around—funny, charming, always quick with a smirk or a jab that lands just right. But lately, there's been this tension between us, like a current under the surface. And I don’t know if I’m imagining it, or if he’s feeling it, too.
At the gym this morning, it felt real. The banter, the innuendo, the way he looked at me when I beat him on the row machine. That wasn’t just friendly teasing. Itcouldn’thave been.
Still… I worry I’m reaching for comfort instead of connection. That I’m dragging him into something he didn’t sign up for just because I’m lonely, or restless, or trying to forget the way Emily smells when she leans too close.
But then I remember the spark in Lucas’s eyes when he joked about being blindfolded and handcuffed on the mini golf course. That wasn’t nothing. That wasan invitation.
Maybe I wouldn’t be using him.
Lucas tilts his head, watching me too closely. “You look like you are doing complicated math in your head. Should I be concerned?”
I huff a quiet laugh, more air than humor. “Just a work thing. Nothing you need to worry about.”
He leans forward, forearms resting on his thighs, towel riding dangerously high. “I am sure Knox is in proper custody with officers Ava and Emily. We are all… supportive coworkers.”
I give him a flat look, trying not to stare where the towel parts. “I don’t usually get ambushed by a naked coworker right after a stress spiral.”
Lucas smirks, slow and knowing. “You say that like it is a bad thing.”
“It’s not… necessarily,” I mutter, dragging a hand through my hair.
He shifts, stretching like a cat in the sun, all lazy muscle and that glint in his eye that’s suddenly not so innocent. “I have a few techniques for stress relief. Non-invasive. No insurance needed.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Is that so?”
“Mmhmm.” He grins, wicked and warm. “I am very hands-on. But only if requested. Otherwise, I am a perfect gentleman.”
There’s a beat where I know I can shut it down, laugh it off, remind him we’re friends or whatever this is that we haven’t prodded into a category. But I don’t. I watch him, the flirt in his smile, the challenge in his posture. He’s not pushing—he’s offering. And something in me wants to say yes.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” I say, voice lower than I meant it to be.
He leans back, still smiling. “Anytime,velho.”
And fuck me, I want to take him up on it. I’m usually the one who takes what he wants without second-guessing. But now, with Lucas in a towel in front of me, all heat and invitation, I can’t figure out why the hell I’m hesitating. Maybe it’s Emily. Would she be okay with this? I don’t want to hurt her. We haven’t said we’re exclusive, but…
Lucas rises slowly, towel clutched with theatrical modesty before he lets it fall onto the loveseat with a smirk. “Stress like yours should not be ignored. Builds up in the wrong places.”
He crosses the room with unhurried steps, eyes never leaving mine. His body is a work of art. Muscles perfectly honed from hours of training on the field. Everything hard and tight and…hard.His cock is as stunning as the rest of him. Long and almost elegant. I should move. Say something. But I don’t.
I sit frozen, heart thudding as he sinks to his knees in front of me like it’s the most natural thing in the world. His palms rest lightly on my thighs, his voice low and teasing. “Let me help. Just for a minute. Alpha.”
Fuck.I swallow hard, the tension coiled so tight in my chest it almost hurts. Hearing him call me that goes right to my cock.
His hands slide up, slow and deliberate, anchoring me in place with nothing but touch. There’s no mistaking the heat in his gaze, or the way he lingers long enough to give me the chance to stop him. I won’t. I can’t.
Palming my erection through my gym shorts, his tongue flicks out to lick his lips as he gives a little tug on the fabric. I lift my hips, letting him pull the shorts down. He doesn’t reach for the waistband of my boxer briefs, tented like I’m trying to permanently stretch out the elastic. Instead, Lucas parts the seam to expose every inch of how much I want him.
Withdrawing my cock from between the folds of fabric, he lets out a hungry little gasp.
On his knees, naked, with his fist wrapped around me, Lucas looks up through those thick lashes and pauses over the tip of my cock as if waiting for permission. I palm the back of his head, not pushing him forward, but silently letting him know I want this. Fuck, I want this so bad.
I wrap my other hand around his and tap his lips with my dripping cock. He groans, opening wide.
