Page 57 of Up In Flames
In another second, his right hand is gone from my thigh, and he’s cupping my face, his thumb glued to my cheekbone, before he pulls away, panting heavily.
“I don’t understand what’s happening,” he confesses, closing his eyes.
“You don’t have to,” I say before stealing another kiss. “I just need to know if you’re willing to explore it.”
Finally, he pulls back and opens his eyes, really looking at my face. I let him take his time drinking his fill.
“I’m twenty years older than you,” is what he chooses to say.
I smile, fully prepared for this. “Michael Douglas is twenty-five years older than Catherine Zeta-Jones. Ellen is fifteen years older than Portia de Rossi. Harrison Ford is?—”
He places a large palm over my mouth, and I smile against his hand.
“Okay, I get it. People have made it work.”
Slowly, I peel his hand away, but keep a hold of it from my perch on the counter.
“Besides, exploring it isn’t the same as committing to it forever.” I meant for the statement to be reassuring, but feeling him grow tense, I know it must’ve been the wrong thing to say.
That’s confirmed a second later when he pulls out of my grasp and breaks through my locked ankles at his back. Turning away from me, he places both hands on the table behind him and hangs his head between his shoulders.
“Knox? What is it?”
Figuring he might as well know the real me, which includes my need for physical touchall the fucking time, I hop off the counter and step up behind him, planting my hands on his waist.
“I don’t know how to do this,” he says, turning to face me. He’s growing frustrated, but I can tell it’s with himself, not me. “I don’t know what to do with a dick that isn’t my own…or why I’m even thinking about it. I don’t know how to do one-night stands or whatever this would be.”
He’s cute when he’s flustered, but I don’t let him spiral for long.
With my hands still at his waist, I shove him sideways, knocking him off balance, and using the momentum I’ve created to push him until his back is pressed against the wall.
“Luckily for you, Idoknow what to do with a dick that isn’t mine…and who said anything about this being a one-night stand?”
Reaching for his hands, I place them on my ass, smiling when his fingers flex into the globes involuntarily.It’s a really nice ass.I want him to stop thinking so fucking much and justfeel.
“Let me take your shirt off,” I demand instead of asking because I don’t want him to have to think about it. I need to feel the warmth of his skin and the hair on his chest.
Without verbally answering, he raises his arms.
Good enough for me.
My hands immediately lift the hem of his shirt, pull it over his head, and toss it to the floor. This isn’t supposed to be all about sex. And it won’t be, but Knox’s actions, his small acquiescences to my touch, tell me he’s starved for affection, and if I can help him over this hurdle, the rest of the connection will be that much more fun to strengthen.
I flex my hips into him while ravaging his neck with my teeth and tongue. When I reach his ear, I whisper, “Just do what feels right. Take what you want. Don’t overthink it. Don’t analyze it. Just. Fucking.Take.”
A second later, one of his hands is in my hair, gripping the roots with punishing force, while his other hand has found its way back to my ass, except this time, it’s against my bare skin,insidethe thin shorts.
He’s kneading my flesh at the same time he’s pulling me into himself, grinding our cocks together the way I did earlier.
I lick the spot below his ear and he angles his head, giving me better access. I smile against his skin before pulling the lobe between my teeth and biting down. His hips thrust forward, and his head hits the wall behind him.
Taking a risk, I slide one of my hands to the front of his pants. My cock grows impossibly hard when I realize he’s beaten me there.
“What do you need?” I ask before correcting myself. “What do youwant,Knox?”
Hefinallygives me an answer.
“More.”
