Page 76 of Fierce Obsession

“Knox Whiteshaw,” I say firmly, ignoring the tears still blurring my vision. Ignoring the way my heart is beating way more frantically than I’d like. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” I don’t care that I just asked him. It bears repeating.

“A lot of things,” he answers. “But mainly? You.”

Ugh.

Except he’s looking at me like I’m not really somethingwrongat all.

And that’s confirmed when he kisses me again.

I think I could drown in Knox Whiteshaw’s kisses. I thought that when I was sixteen, giddy and high on teen love. I thought it when we kissed in the bar, when I straddled his lap and wore his ring. It’s definitely on the forefront of my mind now as he sucks all the oxygen from my lungs.

He pushes my shirt up, and then my bra. His cold fingers cover my breasts, pinching and tugging at my nipples without once removing his lips from mine.

Heat and a flood of desire flood straight between my legs.

He shifts his hips forward, his erection—bound by his jeans, blocked by mine—hitsalmostjust where I need. He does it again and again, until I move and spread my legs wider, fixing the angle. And then it’sjust right.

Call me Goldilocks, I guess.

He nips my lip. Sucks it. Kisses every inch, my upper lip, my lower lip, the corners. Paying attention to the little details that I wouldn’t have thought matter, but each one sends a rush through me.

But he learned how to kiss somewhere, because he didn’t kiss like this at seventeen.

I turn my head away, more tears falling.

“Why are you crying, Sunny?”

Because you went off and had a whole life between us. Because you think I betrayed you. Because there’s only one way you’ll believe me, and I don’t know if I can do that.

Instead of vomiting that truth, I go with something else.

Another twist of lie and truth all wrapped up tight enough so Knox won’t be able to tell the difference.

“I need to tell you about Luke Abernathy.”

He groans. “Why do that when we could do this?”

He moves his hips again, nudging that spot between my legs that’s fucking electric. But I shake my head and rise on my elbows, bringing me face to face with him. My vision is taken up completely by his face, his blue eyes. And that’s how I admit what I need to tell him.

A truth that could get us killed.

“Betting fraud,” I whisper.

He stops. “What?”

“Luke Abernathy is working with people to commit fraud. They’re rigging the games?—”

Knox covers my mouth with his hand. “Stop, Aurora. Stop talking.”

When I press my lips together, he removes his hand and hops up. He takes me with him, his grip on my wrists sure and steady. One minute I’m under him, the next he’s making sure I don’t tip over sideways.

“Knox—”

“He had someone beat you up because?—”

“Because I was supposed to make sure you didn’t play well.”

He narrows his eyes. “That’s why you spiked my coffee.”

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