Page 56 of Up In Flames
He looks up at the sound of me entering the room, and his jaw tics when his eyes land on the towel covering me from the waist down.
“I don’t have any clothes here,” I explain. “Or a toothbrush for that matter,” I add, thankful there was no kissing this morning.
“Oh. Right,” he says, breezing by me and heading back down the hall toward what I’m guessing is his bedroom. I trail along, wanting to see more of his home. “How are you feeling this morning?” he asks again. “Any headache? How’s your neck?”
I can’t hold back my laughter. “I’d forgotten all about the concussion, honestly.”
“That’s a good sign,” he says, not even cracking a smile as he opens a dresser drawer. “Shorts or pants?”
“Shorts.”
He hands me a pair of black athletic shorts. “You can probably roll the waistband enough so they fit a little better.” He still won’t look me in the eye as he moves to his closet and grabs a T-shirt off a hanger. His last stop is the ensuite, where he pulls an unopened toothbrush from a small white bag. I recognize it as the care kit you get from the dentist.
“Thanks.”
“No problem,” he says gruffly. “Breakfast will be ready in ten minutes. You should eat something.”
Five minutes later, I’m dressed and have minty-fresh breath. I take my towel and the clothes I messed up this morning back to Knox in the kitchen.
“Where should I put these?” I ask, holding up the small pile.
“Laundry room is through there.” He waves a hand toward a door next to the kitchen.
I say nothing more before tossing my clothes and towel into the washing machine. Moving back into the kitchen, I hop my ass up onto the counter and watch while Knox works. Eventually, he comes to stand right in front of me.
Finallymaking eye contact, he says, “I need plates out of the cabinet behind you.”
I lean to the left so he can grab what he’s after.
“Are we gonna talk about it?” I ask as he serves each plate with eggs.
“No.” His answer is immediate. “We’re going to pretend it never happened. That was the deal.”
I don’t like this part of the deal.
Knox now needs to open the silverware drawer behind my knees, but instead of moving, I hook my legs around his ass and draw him into me.
“I don’t want to pretend it never happened,” I admit.
“Too fucking bad.”
“Hey,” I say, my tone a little harsher than it’s been. “Talk to me instead of biting my head off.” When I pulled him to me, it put our groins flush against each other again.
He notices, and his nostrils flare, but he doesn’t try to escape. Knox sounds so broken when he answers in a whisper. “You said you’d back off.”
The way he says it makes me realize something…
“But you don’t want me to, do you? That’s the real problem here.” I slide my palm across the nape of his neck, pulling him closer still.
In a moment of total vulnerability, Knox admits, “It might be one of them.”
My heart shatters on his tile floor.
“Let me in,” I beg, brushing the words against his lips before following suit with my tongue, breakfast completely forgotten.
Knox’s hands clamp down on my thighs, and for a brief second, I think he’s going to push me away or reprimand me. But when I part my lips, he places his top lip between mine. Creating a vacuum with his mouth, he sucks on my bottom lip before nipping it gently with his teeth. My moan bounces off the walls in his kitchen.
It’s amazing how quickly he takes me from zero to sixty, and I can’t stop myself from rubbing against him where we’re connected.
