Page 83

Story: Knox

“Without me?”
“Duh.”
“I didn’t say we were going to bathe right now.”
Now it was my turn to cross my arms. “Excuse me? I want to be drowning in those lavender bubbles, Knox.”
“Oh, I’m aware,” he said, eyes hooded. “I was just hoping you’d recall what I said before we got in the Uber.”
I raised a brow, waiting.
“‘I’ll help you, Caroline. And I know the first step.’ You don’t remember that?”
“I remember. I don’t care because I want to fuck you in a bathtub first.”
Knox took a step closer. “I understand that, baby girl. But what if I intended to take you to a tattoo shop to get that covered up?”
My hand flew to the nape of my neck where the Wolverine patch was inked into my skin forever. I forgot all about the bath and fucking Knox until there was no water left in it.
“Really?” I breathed.
“Really,” he said, closing the space between us, resting his hands on my hips. Then, his seriousness shifted, and he grinned devilishly. “But now you got me excited about this bath, so ink’s gotta wait.”
Before I could react, Knox grabbed my collar and ripped. The flannel’s buttons flew everywhere.
“Knox!” I gasped, swatting him away.
“What?” he purred. “Were you expecting me to be romantic? Get all that shit off, woman.”
I shrugged out of the shirt and unclipped my bra. A hungry light burned in Knox’s eyes at the sight of my tits springing free.
My jeans went next, kicked aside. I took my time taking off my panties, teasing, making Knox wait. His cock was already pressing against his jeans. He swallowed hard.
“Care,” he groaned. “I need to fuck you so fucking bad. Just take those fucking panties off before I rip them off.”
“Oh, that would be fun. But no. I’m fond of these thrift store undies.”
“Off. Now.”
I let the cotton slide down my legs and stepped out of them, leaving myself bare to him.
“Off,” I said. “You next.”
CHAPTER 29
KNOX
The meeting at Sam’s bar went about as well as expected—subpar. No one liked the idea of trusting Caroline in any capacity. They had all been burned too many times to freely give acceptance—except Sam, apparently. She was the only open-minded one. I just hoped she did make Jackson sleep on the couch.
That was the least of my petty worries.
Right now, I had a naked woman filling a stupidly large bathtub standing in front of me. I didn’t need to think about anything else except how soon I could get my dick inside her.
“Off,” she ordered in a tone that made a shiver skitter down my spine. “You next.”
I was too horny to tease her with slowly taking off my clothes. I yanked off my shirt and tossed it somewhere. My jeans? Down around my ankles. Thrifted blue boxers with rubber duckies on them? Dropped. Dick? Fucking out.
If I weren’t stripped already, Caroline’s eyes would have done the work. She looked at me head to toe as if deciding if I was a good enough specimen for her. Her gaze lingered on my cock like she was imagining the very near future of it stretching her walls. She was a damn queen; she deserved a king. Was I worthy of her?