Chapter 11
Lexi
We pick a room to do our “hunting” in. Knox admits to me he doesn’t know much about ghost hunting at all, so he lets me take the lead. I’m kind of pleased with that. Most of the men I’ve met in the past haven’t been keen on letting a woman have any sort of control, so it’s nice to have my suggestions listened to after all the Keiths and Jonases of the world. Since I’ve heard that ghosts are bothered by renovations, I pick the room that needs the least amount of work. I don’t want pissed spirits. I’m just curious about the situation.
Okay, I’m actually way more curious about Knox and spending time with him than actually ghost hunting. Maybe that’s another reason I pick the most finished room. There’s only one bed and no chairs, though, and I realize that after I’ve selected it. I turn on the lamp next to the bed and sit on the edge of the mattress. It feels a little presumptuous to assume I get the bed, so I slide down and thump onto the floor, resting my back against the mattress. “You can take the bed.”
“I’m good sitting with you,” Knox says, and thumps down right next to me, then stretches out his long legs. He crosses his ankles and looks over at me, his hands in his lap. “So . . . what do we do now?”
“Well, now we mostly wait to see if anyone decides to show themselves to us.” I shrug. “Ghost hunting might be boring to you. It’s going to involve a lot of wait and see.”
“I’m fine with wait and see. Nothing about spending time with you is boring.” He looks over at me. “You want room service? I bet if we wave enough money under their noses, we can get them to come up to this floor, haunted or not.”
I’m basking in the warm glow of his offhand compliment, but I’m also pretty freaking hungry. I haven’t eaten anything since lunch, and our drive down to Galveston was long. Knox had offered to stop somewhere to get a bite to eat, but I was too eager to get to the hotel. Of course, now that we’re here, I’m so hungry I think I’d eat anything tossed my way. “I’m down for room service. But you should let me pay.”
“I ain’t lettin’ you pay for shit,” he tells me, and puts a hand over mine when I dig into my purse for my wallet. “Stop that. You’re carryin’ my baby. Least I can do is buy you dinner.”
I can’t decide if that’s sweet or bossy, but I’ll let it slide. “Okay, fine. I’ll have a burger.”
He arches an eyebrow at me. “A burger? Not a salad? You seem like a salad type to me.”
“Oh, you know what?” I say in a mock-surprised voice. “A salad sounds great. They can put it on my fucking burger, because I want a burger.”
He throws his head back and laughs, clearly delighted at my sass. “That’s one of the things I like best about you, Lexi. You don’t let anyone tell you what the fuck to do.”
If only I were as confident in myself as he is. Keith tends to run the show lately, and I spend my time trying to avoid him. I hate that. “I’m just a real party,” I tell him drily.
“You are.” He nudges me with his elbow. “Okay, a burger, then. How do you want it?”
“Medium. Extra fries. Lots of ketchup.” Oh god, ketchup sounds so good right now. Actually, so do pickles. “Ask them for extra pickles, too. Lots and lots of pickles.”
“Dessert? Cookies? Cake? Ice cream?”
My stomach growls in response. “That sounds amazing. You pick. We can split it.”
He studies me for a moment, then eases off the floor and moves to the phone on a nearby table. I pretend to check the camera on my phone while he calls in food. I notice he calls in two burgers, extra fries, extra pickles, ketchup, and one of each of the desserts on the menu. Oh god, this man is going to be the death of me. Clearly he wants me to gain a hundred pounds while pregnant.
It takes forever for the food to get here, but it finally arrives just before I’m ready to chew my own arm off out of hunger. There’s an enormous chocolate-dipped cookie on the tray, and I can’t help but wonder what it’d taste like on my ketchupy, pickley burger. On a whim, I throw it under the bun and take a huge bite. Yup, it’s bizarre and delicious.
We eat in silence, and if there’s a ghost around, it’s clear they’re waiting for us to finish our meal before showing up. That’s fine. I’m in no particular hurry. I demolish my food and some of Knox’s fries, then take bites out of a few desserts before I’m done. I close my eyes and lean back against the bed, sighing happily. “That was probably the most disgustingly yummy thing I’ve ever eaten.”
“It did look . . . interesting.”
“I’m going to blame it on pregnancy.” Like so many other things.
It gets quiet in the room, and then Knox gives me another gentle nudge with his elbow. “So . . . what happened exactly? With the baby?”
Maybe it’s the food coma, but I’m not following him. “What do you mean?”
“You said you were on the pill. Did something happen?”
Oh. I cross my arms over my chest, feeling a little defensive. I know I shouldn’t. Hell, if it were me in his position, I’d be using a lot of cuss words to figure out what the hell happened. He was the one that had brought up condoms and I shot him down. He has a right to know. I think of Keith and his violence, and feel a little ashamed, though. Like it’s my fault he’s a psycho. “I was. Someone stole my purse the morning after, and . . . my pills were in there.” It’s most of the truth, while glossing over the scary, stalkery parts. “I didn’t have the cash to get a morning-after pill or my refills for a few days, and I guess by then it was too late. My doctor says the pill’s never a hundred percent effective anyhow.” I grimace. “I guess it’s my fault for seducing you and insisting that there be no condoms involved.”
He puts a hand on my shoulder, squeezing it, and then rubs the back of my neck. “I ain’t blamin’, Lexi. I was just curious what happened is all. You don’t need to justify it to me. I understand. And if I was so morally opposed, I could have said no, right? I was all too happy to say yes.”
His grin is making my stomach flutter. That, and the big hand that’s kneading my neck is doing all kinds of crazy things to me. “Pretty fucked, timing-wise, isn’t it?” I say lightly, trying to play things off.
“It is. You shoulda texted me. I would have wired you some money.”
“Like a hooker?”
“More like someone that just didn’t wanna get knocked up.”
“Oooh, burn.” I poke his leg with one finger. “You got me there. I made a bad choice. Sorry. Are you mad at me?”
“Mad?” Knox looks surprised. The hand on the back of my neck pauses for a moment, and then begins rubbing once more. “Naw. I ain’t mad. Shit happens, you know? I didn’t think I was going to be a dad at twenty-three, but the more I think about it, the more I like the idea.” He glances over at me. “And I really like the idea of bein’ your partner. Gettin’ married.”
Oh god, I should hate that he even throws that out there. He’s so casual about it. Marriage is a shit-show for someone like me, but the thumb that’s so casually grazing the skin on my neck is distracting me. That has to be why I’ve got that wild flutter in my belly at the thought of marriage. Has to be. I’m not thinking clearly due to his nearness and my pregnancy horniness. That has to be it.
I’m very antimarriage. Very. It might be good for some people, but it’s terrible for me. I should tell Knox this, but the words stick in my throat. It seems to be important to him, and I don’t want him to hate me. The thought fills me with despair. For some reason, the idea of Knox hating me feels like a gut punch.
I can’t be attached to him. I can’t. That’s such a bad idea. I’ve got enough stress in my life.
“How does it feel?” Knox murmurs, and his thumb slides along the cords of my neck.
Feel? “What?”
“Bein’ pregnant. Any noticeable changes? Nat’s super sick all the time, and it makes Clay strut around like it’s a badge of honor. Every time I talk to him he’s runnin’ around gettin’ something for her stomach and tellin’ us all about how many times she puked. I can’t decide if it’s cute or bizarre.”
Oh. We’re still talking about the baby. I touch my flat stomach. “Nothing much yet, really. No morning sickness. I haven’t really had any strange food cravings yet, either.” I glance over at my destroyed dinner plate and think of my cookie-pickle-ketchup burger. “Well, uh, until now. Other than that, just a bit of tenderness, really.” The tenderness is probably a TMI for him, but I feel like if I give just enough information, I’ll be able to hide other bits.
Things like how the pregnancy has made me super, ultra-aroused at the drop of a hat.
But Knox isn’t a woman, so I doubt he knows anything about pregnancy like that. He just nods like what I’m saying makes sense, and then adds, “If you need anything, just let me know and I’ll get it for you.”
Like dick? I want to say, but for once, I hold back. I have no doubt in my mind that if I wanted sex right now, he’d give it to me. Screw ghost hunting. The undead can just watch. But I remind myself that I can’t think like that. I can’t. Much as I may want otherwise, it’s smartest to keep Knox at arm’s length. I can’t forget how bad my first marriage was.
Nor can I forget Keith and his constant looming presence in my life. Ugh. So I look over at gorgeous, sexy Knox and do what I can to try to stem the rising tide of my stupid feelings. “I’m glad we’re here, but in the future can you please not ambush me in my studio? It makes me feel trapped.”
He cocks his head, regarding me. “Trapped?” When I nod, he removes his hand from my neck—which makes me want to cry—and adds slowly, “You ain’t married, are you?”
And now I feel like an asshole. There’s a cautious wariness to his face that wasn’t there before, and I feel like I’ve somehow ruined something I wasn’t even sure I wanted. God, I’m such a mess. I can’t tell him about Keith, though. The last thing I need is him white-knighting his way into my life more than he already is and making the fuckery dial up to eleven. It’s already going to be at an eight by the time I get back from this date with him, but I can handle Keith at an eight. “I’m not married now, but I was married once.”
Knox seems surprised at this admission. “Oh?”
I can tell he wants more information, and I feel like I owe him this much. More than anything, I just want him to put his hand back on my neck and stroke it again. That’s shamefully weak of me, but I’m not sure I care. Just having him here at my side seems to make everything okay. Like it doesn’t matter that I’m broke and pregnant and my stalker is gonna flip his lid when he finds out I’m gone. As long as he touches me again and smiles, everything’ll be okay.
Ghost hunting seems like a distant second right now compared to snuggling. Snuggling that I shouldn’t want, of course, but I can’t seem to help myself.
Just like I can’t seem to bring myself to make the first move.
“I’ve never told Natalie,” I admit to him. “Don’t say anything, all right?”
“Is it a secret?”
“No, just not something I’m particularly proud of. Nat’s a big believer in happy ever after and love conquering all things despite the whole ‘Clay being out of her life for seven years’ thing. Though I suppose she’s really, really into the whole Prince Charming thing now that she and Clay are back together.” I pick up my phone and start to fiddle with the camera. It’s either that or start wringing my hands like some demented damsel in distress. “So yeah, I was married once. It sucked. Not a fan.”
Knox puts a hand over my phone, gently pushing it aside. “Tell me about him. Who is he, and do I need to murder him for hurting you?”
I laugh at his suggestion, but when I look over at him, there’s an intense expression on his face, and he’s not smiling. He’s not fooling around, and I get the impression he really would go after my ex and make him pay for past slights. I’m not sure if that’s crazypants or sweet. Maybe both. Maybe that’s why we get along so well. We’re both a little crazypants. “What do you want to know?”
“Everything.”
Oh jeez. Everything, huh? That’s such a broad statement. “Well, when I was a kid, it might shock you to hear that I was a bit of a rebellious teenager.”
A hint of a smile quirks his mouth. “No shit,” he drawls.
“No shit,” I agree. “I had problems with authority, and I really, really had problems with my parents, who were very strict and found religion again when I was about fifteen. Instead of cleaving to Jesus, I cleaved to goth clothing and rock music and staying out late with my much-older boyfriend.”
“You wild thing, you.”
“It should also not surprise you that I influenced my younger sister, and when my parents found her with a cigarette one day, they blamed me. I’d just graduated from high school, and I’d had the bad decision to stay out late with my boyfriend, Jonas. I’d slept over at his place. See, he was twenty-three or so, and I had just turned eighteen, and at the time, I didn’t think it was weird that an older guy wanted to date some high school kid. I just thought he was cool. Of course, now that I think back to how flat-chested and skinny I was, I wonder about that guy, but that’s besides the point. Between the cigarette and the sluttiness I was showing, my parents kicked me out. Jonas offered for me to move in with him, but then he lost his job a week or so later, and decided to enlist in the army. The only way we’d get housing together was if we got married. I wasn’t particularly keen on the idea because it meant I was trading one authority figure for another, and we were already fighting after a week of living together, but I was also young and stupid, and I figured we’d learn to get along better over time. Plus, I didn’t have any options other than going back to my parents and begging for forgiveness. That wasn’t going to happen . . . so I married my sleazy boyfriend about a month after high school ended.” I give him a faint smile. “You can guess how things turned out.”
Knox isn’t smiling. His expression is pretty . . . well, stony.
I reach over and pat his hand. “Oh, this gets better. See, it’s a combination of two people being really wrong for each other and desperate situations. Jonas was desperate for work and he was a real pothead, so he couldn’t get a regular job. Plus, he was kind of stupid, looking back. So he joined the army because he figured they couldn’t really fire him if he was enlisted. We got married, he shipped out, and then I had an apartment on my own. I wanted to get a job, too, but Jonas didn’t like that idea, so I spent my time playing video games online and generally being a lazy slob. I guess you could say I was depressed, but I was eighteen and I figured shit like that only happened to older people.” I shrug. “So it didn’t make for a good situation when Jonas got home from his deployments.”
I can feel Knox tense next to me. “Did he hit you?” His voice is low, brimming with pent-up anger.
“No, but he grabbed me pretty hard a few times. I know I had bruises. I’m not saying I was blameless, of course. I was a real asshole to him, but—”
“That doesn’t excuse it,” he tells me tightly.
“No, it doesn’t, which is what I was about to say.” He seems so stressed and angry over my past that I reach over and squeeze his knee. “It’s all right, Knox. Like I said, I was an asshole kid at the time, but I wasn’t a dumb one. I was more than happy when he’d go away again. It meant I didn’t have to deal with him. Of course, while he was gone, I was trapped at home. We didn’t have a car, and he was the one earning all the money, which meant I sat around a lot. One time he came home and got really jealous of my friendship with some people online and destroyed my computer and smashed my phone. After that, I didn’t have anyone to talk to.”
“Tell me his name and I’ll murder him.”
I pat his knee again, because it’s sweet that he’s so furious. It’s kind of weird, because I’ve avoided talking about this portion of my life to anyone. It feels like ancient history now, ten years gone. I’m a different person now, and I guess I still cringe at the rebellious, loudmouthed teenager I was back then. I love that Knox is automatically taking my side, though. “It’s the distant past, Knox. Don’t get all stressed out.”
“He was isolating you.” His jaw clenches.
“Yeah, he was. I was too stupid to realize it, but Jonas’s thing was control. If he couldn’t control me while he was deployed, he did his best to make sure I felt alone to try and ensure that I’d do what he wanted. He wanted to approve what I wore, who I talked to, even what I read. I had my own ideas, though. I’d let him think whatever he wanted while he was in town, and the moment he was gone, I got a job. I worked so many fast-food jobs back then and didn’t tell him about it. Walked to work and took the bus and grabbed every shift I could. I saved every dollar, and by the time it was close to our one-year anniversary, I took my nest egg and moved in with one of my friends I’d met through one of my jobs. She let me room with her for a while, and between jobs and things, I found yoga.” I shrug. “Like I said, it was a long time ago, though.”
“How many years?” he asks.
“Ten, give or take a few months. Remember I’m an old lady compared to you.” I nudge him with my shoulder and wonder if he notices that I still have my hand on his thigh. I can’t bring myself to remove it, even though I know I should. There’s just something so comforting about touching him. Hell, I’m even finding his protective, growly response to my stupid marriage adorable.
“You’re not old,” Knox tells me, clearly still angry. “And you just need to give me that guy’s name and—”
“Nope,” I say, ending the conversation. “I haven’t talked to him since I filed the divorce, and we both prefer it that way, I think. He was just as miserable as I was. And because he was miserable, he tried to make me fit what he thought a good wife would be. I’m my own girl, though. The more he pushed, the harder I pushed back.” I squeeze his knee again. “I have enough clarity now with some years behind me that I can recognize I’m not good at being someone’s partner. I think some people are just meant to be solo artists. I’m definitely one of those people. So when I say it’s not you, it’s me, I really mean it.”
“Because you think I’m like that douchebag,” Knox says, his tone flat and cold. I can tell I’ve hurt him.
“No, if I thought you were like that, I wouldn’t talk to you at all.” I shrug. “I just have . . . let’s call it an aversion to being trapped. I don’t like people that think they can control me. I don’t think you’re controlling, but I think that people in a marriage have a certain obligation to listen to their partner and try to be a partner, and like I said, I’m not great at that sort of thing.”
“If I’ve ever made you feel trapped or controlled, I’m sorry, Lexi.” The look in his eyes is dark. “I can understand why you’d react badly to me dropping in. I won’t do it again.”
And now I feel a bit like I’ve overreacted. I know Knox is different. Everything he does—even the smallest gestures of letting me pick what to eat on the menu and then letting me eat all his fries—tells me that he’s more than willing to give me enough space. It’s just that I don’t trust myself all that much. I’ve always been very confident in who I am and my life in general . . . except for when it comes to men. There, I always seem to fumble the ball.
I worry Knox is going to be just another fumble. That hurts a lot, surprisingly. We’ve only met a few times, but it feels like I’ve known him always. That we have this deep connection on another level . . . but what if I’m just all wrong again?
“You don’t make me feel trapped, Knox. I’m just really cautious when it comes to relationships, because I’m not very good at them.”
“You don’t have to be good at all relationships,” he tells me. “You just have to be good at one of them.”
The man’s got a point. I can’t help but smile at that. “Well, if I could pick a relationship to be good at, it would be this one. I’m just pretty sure I’ve already fucked things up by getting pregnant and all.”
“Think that depends on who you ask,” Knox drawls, leaning in closer to me. “Because from where I sit, it ain’t fucked up at all. Maybe it’s exactly how it needs to be.”
He’s moved closer to me, and I’m dying for his hand to go back to my neck, for a small touch from him that will close the distance between us. But he only watches me, and I realize that as possessive and protective as he is, he’s going to wait for me to make the first move. For me to tell him with my words and my body that I want this to go forward.
I can kill this right here and now, if I want to. I can leave things as they are and we can part from this night as friends. Buddies. We can probably even co-parent in a friendly sort of way without taking things any deeper. That’s the safest route: friendship.
I study his face, devouring his features. Wondering what it’d be like to shake hands after tonight and then never see each other again, like Jonas. I’m surprised at the sense of loss that fills me with. I don’t know why it does. Friendship is safest.
Isn’t that what I want? To have things easy to handle? To make sure I never lose control of the situation? With Knox, I never seem to have control of the situation in the slightest.
But it doesn’t feel . . . unpleasant like it did with Jonas. It feels like there’s something exciting to look forward to for once. Like I have more to anticipate than just another round of past-due bills showing up in the mail or Keith heading over to be his usual dickweed self at my studio.
I think for a moment . . . and then I sit up and turn my body so I’m facing him. We’re no longer sitting side by side, but face-to-face. If I move any closer, I’ll be in his lap. For a brief second, I feel another flash of fear. Am I making a mistake? Knox is younger than me, practically a stranger, and rich. I’m not what he needs. He’s going to have the upper hand easily if I let him. Is this what I want? But I look into his dark eyes and study his sinfully handsome face.
“Like I said earlier, I’m not very good at relationships,” I tell him in a low voice.
“Me either,” he says, voice low and husky. He leans in, a hint of a smile on his face. “Last one I tried, I got the girl pregnant.”
For a moment, I’m shocked . . . and then I realize he’s talking about me. Oh. “Did you . . . did you think that night was a relationship?”
“Kinda hoped it’d be the start of one.” He’s so watchful, so very intent and full of tension, like a coiled spring. He’s waiting for me.
“And if it’s nothing?” I whisper.
“It’ll be the best nothing I ever had.”
That makes me ache, it’s so sweet. “And then you’ll move on with your life?”
“I dunno about that.”
“Oh?”
He shrugs and leans forward, just a little. That small motion makes me realize that I’m leaning forward, too. Any closer and we’ll practically be kissing. “How do you move on from your arm? Or your leg? Or half your heart? You can’t. You just do the best you can with the pieces you got left.”
Oh my god.
I fling myself into his arms, pressing him back against the mattress. I crawl over his lap and press my mouth to his, swooping into a kiss. I don’t even have time to think about the consequences before his mouth is on mine and we’re making out like teenagers in the back seat of a car. His lips move against mine, tongue thrusting into my mouth with all the possessiveness I can tell he’s been holding back. He’s been waiting for the okay from me all this time, to let him know that I’m all right with the claim he wants to stake. Now that I’ve broken the distance between us, he’s like a wild man, tearing at my shirt and running his hands down my backside before dragging me down against his hips and rocking up against my core.
I whimper when his cock rubs me right against the heat of my pussy. The yoga pants I’m wearing seem far too thin, because I can feel all of that hardness. At the same time, it’s far too much material between us. I’m wet already, and as his mouth slants over mine, claiming me with rough, frantic kisses, I start to rock up against him. I’m so wet, so full of need. I have been this entire night. Just a word from him, a look is all it takes and it’s like I want to fling my panties across the room. “God, I have been so turned on all night.”
His chuckle brushes against my lips, and even that’s so sexy I can hardly stand it. “Never met a girl that got turned on by spider webs and dark shadows.”
“Well, now you know what it takes to make me want to ride you like a bronco,” I say, breathless. I slide my hands under his shirt and feel his hard chest. It’s smooth and warm and rippled with muscle. Yummy.
“Then you’ll go out with me again?” he asks between nipping kisses.
“If you keep asking me like this, fuck yes.”
“I can do that,” he whispers, and his tongue flicks against my mouth in the most obscene, sexy little gesture. “Tell me what haunted house you want to visit next and it’s all yours.”
“Don’t care about the ghosts,” I tell him, panting. I’ve forgotten we’re supposed to be ghost hunting. I’ve forgotten everything but him. “Fuck the ghosts.”
“They ain’t my type. I prefer someone warm and touchable, who likes to scare children with her personality.”
I can’t help but laugh at that, and then tug at the hem of his shirt. I want it off. Now. “If there’s any spirits here, they’re welcome to pull up a chair and watch me touch you.”
“And are you gonna touch me?” He can’t take his eyes off me, and I love that. It makes me want to do more.
“Touch you all over,” I tell him in a silky voice, and I love his sexy groan of response. Being here with him feels more perfect than I could have imagined. I can’t walk away from this. I won’t walk away from it.
“Was kinda hopin’ you’d say that,” Knox murmurs. “Because I’ve been dreamin’ about it ever since that first night together.”
Oh god, me too. “That so?”
“Yup,” he says slowly, and leans in and nips at my lower lip. “Keep thinkin’ about how I didn’t get a chance to part those gorgeous thighs and put my head between them for hours.”
“Didn’t you? I distinctly remember lots of licking.” I haven’t been able to think about much since.
“Not for hours, though. Felt like we didn’t have enough time.” He rubs his nose against mine in a subtle little touch that melts me. “Next time I’m gonna take twice as long, because I love the way you taste.”
“Well,” I breathe, curling my fingers against his hard abdomen. “You certainly know how to make a girl want to shuck her panties.”
“You don’t even have to shuck ’em,” he tells me, and teases the waistband of my yoga pants. “I can get along just fine with you fully dressed.”
His fingers brush against my belly and I practically squirm with need at that small touch. I can’t resist teasing him because I want that so badly. “I’m hearing a lot of talk and not seeing a lot of action.”
Knox chuckles. “Bossy, bossy.” His hand dips into my clothes, pushing right into my panties. He finds my pussy instantly, fingertips brushing over the curls of my sex before he heads straight for pay dirt. He touches my clit and immediately begins to rub, watching my face to see my reaction.
He’s definitely a man of action. All I had to do was hint that I’d like to be touched and two moments later, his hand’s in my pants. He makes a murmur of surprised pleasure as he slicks through my wetness, lubricating his fingers before moving them back over my clit again. “How is it possible you’re so wet already? You been thinkin’ about me touchin’ you all day?”
I whimper, twining my arms around his neck. “Being pregnant . . . does have a tiny side effect,” I tell him.
“Makes ya horny?” he guesses.
“I guess that was obvious,” I say, then gasp as he circles my clit. I can’t help myself as I grind against his fingers, because it’s not going to take long for me to come at all. Kind of surprised I haven’t already spontaneously combusted just from his touch.
“Well, that, and since I’m visitin’, I needed somethin’ to do at night while you were playin’ hard to get.” With every word, he drags his fingertips against the sides of my clit, making my body sing. “So I went to a bookstore and bought a book about pregnancy. Been readin’ it at night.”
I dig my fingers into the loose waves of his thick hair. It’s just long enough that it tickles his collar and makes a girl want to run her fingers through it. Or claw it when he finger-bangs her, either one. “You’re reading a baby book? Why is that so sexy?” I have to admit, I’m touched. And super, super aroused.
“Dunno, but if reading gets you this hot, I need to do it more often.” He drags his fingers back and forth, and I feel him brush one against the opening of my core. Oh god. A moment later, his thumb taps against my clit and he pumps into me with his finger.
Unfair, unfair. It feels far too good too fast. I cry out and press my forehead against his, clinging to him as he begins to work my pussy hard, thrusting into me and using his thumb to tease my clit. I want to touch him and give him pleasure, but I’m so far gone that all I can do is hold on to him and rock my hips against his hand.
“That’s right, sweetheart,” he murmurs as I ride his palm, lost in pleasure. “You come for me, and you come hard.”
It’s too much for my overstimulated body. I come a moment later, just as he tells me to. It feels so amazingly good to ride the orgasm, to let it ripple over my body as he pumps his big fingers into me. I give a breathless little sigh as he stops, quivering. “That went by entirely too fast.”
“I’ll say. I don’t know if I’m pleased or disappointed that I didn’t get to watch more.” He brushes his lips against mine, and I realize my face is still pressed up against his. I hope I didn’t make any unsexy expressions as I came, seeing as how I’m giving him a pore-close look at my O-face. “Guess I’m just gonna have to make you do all that again so I can get another look.”
I squeeze my thighs around his hand, still settled between my legs, his finger deep inside me. “You’re not going to hear a protest from this girl.”
Knox gives me another one of those meltingly perfect smiles and moves in to kiss me again. His beard rubs against my face, part ticklish and part abrasive, but I don’t care. I love the feel of it. I kiss him with all the enthusiasm I feel, and he groans, his hand surging up against my pussy again. I remember that he hasn’t come yet. That the last few minutes were all me. Kinda makes me want to stick my hand down his pants and give him the same reward.
Actually, I should do just that.
I wiggle my eyebrows at him and slide my hands down his chest, and then move to the waistband of his jeans. “Your turn.”
“My turn?” He arches one dark brow at me. “Are we takin’ turns, then?”
“Only seems fair to me. I’m all about equality.” I shift on his lap, rubbing up against his hand, which is still deliciously tormenting me. “You might have to move this, though.”
“No deal,” he drawls, heat in his eyes. “Thinkin’ at this point that it’s my property.”
I shiver at the thought of him owning my pussy. “I’m not saying you can’t play with it again later. Just let me do as I like and I’ll make it up to you.” And I stroke my hand up and down the hard length of him through his clothes and then undo the button of his jeans. “Unless you don’t like that sort of thing . . . ?”
“Fuck. Not like it? You might as well ask if I like breathin’.”
Pretending like it’s no big deal, I shrug and rub up and down against his cock again. “You tell me.”
He leans in and kisses me hard, as if he’s going to miss out and wants to claim as much of me as he can before I’m taken away from him. I love that, and I moan against his mouth when his tongue strokes against mine and he gives my pussy one last firm finger thrust that makes me needy all over again. But then his hand is gone and I’m left feeling oddly bereft, even though it was my suggestion. Maybe next time I need to keep my mouth shut.
The open button taunts me, though, and reminds me of all the fun we can have in an entirely different way. “Speaking of breathing,” I whisper. “Let’s give this part of you a little air, shall we?” I slide his zipper down carefully and then pull his jeans apart, exposing a dark triangle of boxer briefs. The material’s straining against his erection, and I make a little clucking noise at the sight. “He’s practically suffocating under here. I think he should come out and play.”
“I think he agrees,” Knox tells me, nearly as breathless as I am.
“Shall I do the honors?” When he nods, I tug the material down, exposing the thick length of his shaft. His skin is darker here, flushed with blood, and there’s a long vein that traces up the underside that’s just begging for my tongue to explore it. The head of his cock’s already glazed with a bit of pre-cum, telling me he’s not as controlled as he’s pretending to be.
Of course, now that I have him exposed, I’m not entirely sure what to do with the elastic band of his briefs, which I’ve pulled down his length. Since he’s seated, there’s no room to drag the material down further, and if I let go, it’s going to choke his nuts. This isn’t quite the same as his sexy under-my-clothing fingering, because his clothing is a lot less stretchy than mine. “I should get up so you can take this off—”
“Naw,” he murmurs, and reaches into his back pocket. A moment later, he pulls out a pocket knife and flips it open, exposing the blade. He puts it under the elastic and jerks, cutting the fabric with a quick motion. The material rips and he doesn’t stop until he’s torn his underwear off and tossed them aside.
“Well,” I murmur, a little surprised at the action, and a little amused. “There go all my plans for a Ghosts ’n’ Panties party later.”
“I’ll just borrow yours if I need panties,” he tells me with a wicked grin, closing his knife and tossing it aside, too. “Of course, I might have to stop sniffin’ ’em first.”
“You’re going to sniff my panties?”
“Fuck yeah, you think you’re leavin’ here with ’em today? Hell no.” His grin is mischievous. “Those are all mine.”
We’ll see about that. Maybe I’ll just distract him enough that he’ll forget all about panty snatching. With a little teasing look of my own, I grasp his cock and give the shaft a squeeze. “If we’re claiming things, I think I’m going to start here.”
Knox’s eyes grow heavy-lidded. “It’s all yours, sweetheart. Just be good to it.”
“Oh, I’ll be very, very good,” I murmur to him, then lean in and give the head a lick. I’ve thought about doing this ever since we parted that night. I didn’t get a chance to tease him with my mouth, and I’ve wondered how he would react. Is he one of those that gets grabby and starts shoving a girl’s head down, or is he one that prefers other things in bed? Every man is different, of course.
But Knox only groans and caresses my cheek then strokes my arm, as if he needs to show me just how much he appreciates my efforts. That’s heady stuff and it makes me want to do more to him. I want to show him just how much I like him, how much touching him is so very appealing to me. I’ve never really minded touching a man in the past, but none has made me have such cravings as Knox has. I’ve daydreamed about what it’d be like to take him in my mouth and suck him until he loses control of his senses.
“Have you ever had anyone tell you that you have a nice cock?” I murmur as I rub my lips against the head.
“Never.”
“Never? No one’s ever told you what a nice, thick shaft you have?” I give it another squeeze just to prove my point. “Or that it’s got a big fat head that’s just begging to be nibbled on?” I flick my tongue against it. “Or that there’s this little vein underneath that looks very, very sensitive?” I move lower and lick the vein, and then cup his balls in one hand. “Or that these are so nice and plump?”
“Can’t say the boys in the locker room ever said such things,” he grits out, panting. It’s clear he loves my touch. His cock jerks in response every time I move, which is almost as exciting as touching him. Almost.
“What about the women you’ve dated in the past?”
“Can’t remember a thing about them other than they weren’t you, so they don’t matter.” And he gives me a look filled with such longing that it makes me quiver all over again. “Nobody mattered before you, and there ain’t gonna be anyone after you, Lexi.”
I don’t respond to that, because what can I possibly say? It’s too soon for someone like me to make such a commitment. Commitment’s definitely not my strong suit. But I’m not going to let that ruin the moment. I just give him a sly smile and lean in to lick the head of his cock once more. We can talk about where this is going another day. Right now, I just want to enjoy what we’ve got right now. I drag my tongue over him again, and then take him in my mouth.
The breath hisses out between his teeth and then Knox caresses my cheek again, burying his hand in my hair. “Fuck, you’re pretty like that.”
I tighten my lips around him and then take him even deeper. I love the way he gives this masculine gasp, like he’s forgotten that air exists until this very moment. I need to hear that, over and over again. So I do my best to make him wild with desire, employing everything I know from past experience. My hand is tight around his shaft, and I work it slowly even as I use my lips and tongue to pleasure him. I hum a little as I move up and down on his shaft, until I hear that intake of breath again and taste a hint of salt in my mouth. He’s close.
I kick things up a notch then. With my tongue, I work the underside of his shaft, alternating between that and sucking. I plunge deeper, taking him as far as I can until he’s butting up against the back of my throat. He encourages me with heated words and small touches to my face, even as his hips lift up, as if he wants to desperately fuck my face but won’t push me into it. That’s sweet, but I’m enjoying this as much as he is, and so I take his hand and put it on the back of my head, showing him that it’s all right to be as forceful with me as he wants. He groans when I do, and then begins to guide my head, pumping into my mouth until he comes with a hoarse shout of my name.
I swallow his spend and drag my tongue over him as I lift my head, then give him a sly look. “You know you’re allowed to touch me, right? I won’t break.”
His face is sweaty and flushed, his eyes heavy with his arousal as he pants. “Didn’t want you to feel like you were forced into anything.”
“If I feel that way, you’ll know. Until then, I’m yours to play with just as much as you’re mine.”
“That so?” he asks, breathless, and locks an arm around my waist, dragging me up against him. He holds me close even as he moves our bodies to the floor, and a moment later, he’s on top of me, and his hand is going back into my pants. “You want to do some ghost huntin’ now or you want to hand over these panties?”
“I think we’ve scared away any ghosts that might be here,” I murmur, my arms going around his neck. “They’re scandalized by me deep-throating that hammer of yours.”
He snorts and a moment later, I feel his fingers brushing over my folds again. “If they’re scandalized by that, they ain’t seen nothin’ yet.”
“Oh?” I ask, breathless. I can’t believe how aroused I am again already. Giving him a blow job was exciting, but I’ve never been this turned on in the past. Guess I really haven’t seen anything yet.
I can’t wait for him to show me.