Page 35 of Ruled Out

“That’s it, Bee. Let go. Give it all to me,” he groans, tightening his grip on my hips as white-hot ropes of cum coat my stomach. “Baby, you’re so fucking perfect,” he moans through his release, continuing to thrust against me until he has nothing left to give.

After we’ve come down from our high, both completely spent, Knox presses his forehead to mine and places a soft kiss to my lips. We stand there for what feels like minutes, staring into each other’s eyes as he holds me, so many unspoken words hanging between us. What happened was more than just mutual orgasms, and we both know it. It was as close to a religious experience than I’ve ever had. His body was worshiping mine like it was his only possibility of survival.

“Let me clean you up,” he whispers, carefully setting me on my feet and pouring more soap into his hands. He takes his time washing me again before moving his hands across his own body, cleaning off the mess we made together. Once we’re both clean, he grips my face and stares directly into my eyes.

“Phoebe, that was… I can’t explain it. I’m sorry if I took advantage of you. I can’t seem to control myself when I’m with you. I think about you every second of the day, and I finally broke. I would be lying if I said I regretted it. This is so wrong, but I can’t stay away. I want you too much,” he whispers.

“I want you, too. Every day, Knox. You didn’t take advantage of me. Do you know how many times I’ve touched myself imagining it was you? How many times I’ve…”

“Phoebe, stop,” he mutters with a pained look. “You have no idea what your words do to me.” Letting go of my face, he steps from the shower and grabs a towel for each of us. I notice he’s focusing hard on keeping his eyes directed away from me as I dry off. Once we’re both dry, he hands me an oversized t-shirt and a pair of plaid pajama pants.

“I hope this is okay,” he says, handing me the clothes and giving me a soft smile.

“It’s perfect.” I return his smile and gather the clothes from him.

“I’ll give you some space,” he mutters before retreating back into his room.

Why do I feel like he’s pulling away again?

Fully dressed, I see him sitting on the edge of the bed as I emerge from the bathroom, resting his head in his hands. He's wearing his sweatpants again, minus the shirt. His tanned pecs and chiseled abs are on full display, looking like a Greek god come to life.God, he looks so sexy.As I take in his body, I notice a small tattoo resting beneath his right pec, just above his abs. Taking a closer look, I realize it’s coordinates. I wonder what location is so special to him he would permanently ink it onto his skin.

Deciding to ask him about it later, I sit down next to him, placing my hand on his warm shoulder. “Knox…” I say softly. “Are you okay?”

“I’m more than okay, Phoebe. I’m just trying to process what just happened,” he responds, his face a swirl of emotions I’m not sure I know how to decipher.

“Do you regret it?” I ask, my chest tightening as I wait for his response.

“No. Never,” he responds without hesitation.

Another minute of silence passes between us, and I can tell he doesn’t feel like having this conversation right now. He’s conflicted, as any sane person in his situation would be.

“Will you hold me?” I whisper, breaking the silence. “I don’t want you sleeping on the floor. I want you next to me.”

He doesn’t say anything. Instead, he pulls me back until I’m lying next to him, pulling my back to his front. It’s almost seven in the morning, but we both need to get a few hours of sleep. I can feel the heat of him radiating through the thin fabric of my t-shirt as he wraps me in his arms like it’s the last time he’ll ever hold me.

“Get some sleep. Happy Birthday, Bee,” he murmurs, placing a soft kiss to my neck and nestling his face in my damp hair.

“Thank you, Knox. For everything,” I whisper, linking our fingers together before I drift to sleep in his arms.

FIFTEEN

KNOX

I woke up this morning with Phoebe in my arms, with our limbs tangled together and our fingers intertwined. As much as I love being intimate with her, I think this takes the cake. Her golden hair is fanned out across the pillow, her chest rising and falling with steady breaths. Every time I try to pull away from her, she unconsciously tugs me closer or scoots back into me, like our bodies are magnets. I’m used to having morning wood, but today, I’m harder than granite. If she wakes up for even a second, she’ll feel my erection straining against her ass. I can’t control it. Having her in my bed, wearing my clothes; it’s all too much. It’s everything I could ever want but can never have.

Today is her birthday, and I don’t want to think about how we could never work. I know what we did was wrong. The second I stepped into the shower and saw the steam billowing around her naked body, I knew I wasn't going to be able to hold back. I had to touch her. I had to feel her soft curves in my hands. It took every ounce of restraint I had to not slip inside her and fuck her against the shower wall.

I should be driving her home right now, but selfishly, I just need a few more hours with her. I should be absolutely disgusted with myself for crossing the line with her, on multiple occasions at this point. My mind knows this has to end, but my body doesn't seem to give a shit about the consequences.

I’m still pissed at her for getting completely shit faced last night, but I also have to remember what it’s like to be in college. I’m just glad I got to her before Colin took her home. Hell, I should have just taken her home. Instead, I took her back to my place, made her come, and slept with her cradled in my arms.What the hell am I doing?I know whatever is happening between us needs to stop, but not today. This is her special day, and I want her to know how amazing she is. I know little about her parents, but from what I do know, I have a feeling she didn’t have the most memorable birthdays growing up.

“Happy Birthday, beautiful,” I softly whisper, kissing the top of her head before quietly slipping out of bed.

Half an hour later, I crack open the door to my bedroom with one hand, holding a bouquet of a dozen fresh roses and a box of donuts in the other. Thankfully, she’s still sound asleep. She looks so beautiful in my bed - her delicate hands are tucked beneath her head and her legs are curled up against her chest.God, I would give anything to wake up to her every day.I walk around to the bedside table, placing the roses and donuts next to her.

I wish I could let her sleep all day, but I have a staff meeting in an hour that I can’t be late to. I want to have time to kiss her and show her how special she is, hopefully with my hands and mouth. Not only do I have a meeting, but I need to drive her back to her apartment beforehand, so I’m really pushing it on time.

Crawling into bed, I position myself above her, holding myself up by my arms to avoid putting any weight on her sleepy body. I plant featherlight kisses to her soft skin starting with her forehead, across her cheeks, and finally down to her jaw. When I reach her neck, I hear a sleepy moan as her hand reaches up and lightly grips the back of my head, running her fingers through my hair.

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