Page 32

An escape. Just for a little bit.
My voice cracked. “Please.”
Knox shook his head and said, more firmly, “Not. Tonight.”
The dismissal sank in a little more. After kissing me like he wanted to devour me, after letting me climb him like a fucking tree, he was going to tell me no?
I felt a cold fury coil in my chest. “You’re kidding me,” I said, voice flat.
Knox flashed a grin. “Nope.”
“Put me down.”
He set me on my feet, steadying me when I swayed. I hated him for the kindness of it.
I kneed him in the balls.
Knox dropped like a sack of bricks, groaning as he curled inward. “Fuck, woman, why?—”
I stepped around him without a trace of guilt and grabbed the handle of the trailer door like it was my goddamm house. Knox’s hand slammed into it before I could fully open it.
“Stop being a brat.” His voice had a hoarse edge, as he was trying to recover from his kicked balls.
I crossed my arms. “Why should I?”
“Because fucking me isn’t going to make you feel better.”
“I beg to differ.”
“You’re drunk and injured. I’m not going to fuck someone as?—”
I shoved at his chest. “As what, Royal?” I snapped. “As vulnerable as me? As impressionable as me? A spoiled little girl who just wants a little fun for once in her fucking life?”
Knox barely budged. Clearly, I had more strength in my knee than in my arms at the moment. He towered over me, caging me between his body and the trailer, but I wasn’t afraid this time. I glared at him defiantly. He glared back, but there wasn’t much heat in it—just exhausted annoyance. “Do you even know what fun is, spitfire?”
“Yes. It’s fooling around with a stranger, getting a good high, and then walking away, no strings attached.”
“I beg to differ.”
I scowled. “Dick.”
“Spoiled brat.”
“Cocky bastard.”
Knox kept glaring, then suddenly, he snapped, “You know what?” Then he was kissing me again, hoisting me into his arms. Reaching behind me, he flung open the door and climbed inside.
We bumped into whatever was inside. Something fell and clattered on the hard floor. I barely saw any of it. All I knew and felt was just his hands squeezing my ass and his mouth burning hot on mine. He tasted like blood and the flavor packet from the ramen.
And then he tossed me down on an old spring mattress that smelled like must. It immediately felt gross. But I still didn’t give a damn. I snatched his shoulders, yanking him forward to kiss him. I whimpered when Knox’s tongue swept into my mouth. His hands pressed into the mattress on either side of me.
So close.
My fingers scrabbled at the waistband of his jeans, fumbling for the button. His hand caught mine, pushing it away. I made an indignant noise and tried again. This time, he grabbed my wrists and pinned them above me.
It would have turned me on more if none of it smarted like a bitch.
I yelped in pain, my wrists stinging. Knox released me and stepped back. “See? You’re hurt. I’m not sleeping with a woman whose wrists are rubbed raw from being held prisoner with goddamn rope for what, two days, probably?”