Page 32 of Devoted (Love and Burlesque #2)

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

VIVIAN

Bitches love gloomy weather. It’s me. I’m bitches.

A heavy arm lies over my stomach, cradling me as my eyes adjust to the soft morning light. Late November is when the world really starts to gray here, and while it’s a big disappointment for many, it’s my preferred type of weather and atmosphere.

A happy morning with a gloomy sky.

Turning in his hold, I roll over to face the man taking up the majority of my small bed.

Knight stays sleeping, grumbling cutely as I settle on my side to face him.

It seems that the things that usually trouble him are gone when he sleeps.

A heavy line in his brow that I’ve come to love is nearly gone as he rests on my pillow, his expression at ease for once.

I know we connected on another level last night. Even with him seeking me in desperation, it felt more profound than our previous times together. And this time, he stayed in bed with me.

To be fair, I usually wouldn’t be up this early, so I can’t blame him for starting his day without me last time, but I am a little upset he deprived me of seeing him this way.

He’s my lovely brute, cuddled up in my extra blanket with the raccoon print on it. Huffing a laugh, I look down to see the sheets completely wrapped around my body while Knight is just barely covered by the small fuzzy blanket in his T-shirt and boxers.

It seems like a crime to wake him, especially knowing how he might still be troubled by whatever happened yesterday, but I know he’s got to be busy with work. And we should probably talk.

Closing the space between us, I bring my lips to his in the softest of touches. He doesn’t wake up, but he kisses me back in his sleep. A rumbly noise comes from his chest as he grips my waist tightly.

“Knight,” I whisper, my lips tracing his heavily stubbled jaw. “You need to wake up, sweetheart.”

“I’m up,” he whines and pulls me closer so that my leg tucks between the two of his. The thick length of his cock pressing against my leg makes me wish we could stay in bed all day, but with ‘Talk Turkey to Me’ being tonight, I’ve got to get to the club sooner than later for set up.

“I’d love to take care of that for you.” Nipping at his chin, I move my head back so I can see his eyes. “But we’ve both got a full day ahead of us with the showcase tonight.” His eyes are only open a fraction, like he’s trying to fight the day off.

“I suppose you’re right,” he sighs, relenting the subtle thrusts of his cock on my thigh. After a quick kiss on my cheek, Knight sits up on the bed. Suddenly, there’s a displeased look on his face, and I trace his eyes to see what he’s staring at.

“You wouldn’t happen to have a shirt that could fit me, would you?” he asks, toying with the hem of his shirt. Sitting right above the bottom of his shirt are white stains, and I burst out laughing.

“I’m kind of tempted to send you home in that as punishment for breaking into my damn room last night,” I threaten while rolling myself out of bed. Walking over to the dresser beside the closet door, I start looking through my drawers for one of my bigger shirts.

“You loved it.” I hear Knight reply. He tries to hide it, but I can hear the smug pride in his voice.

“I did,” I sing back to him playfully. Once I find a shirt, I face my dresser, only looking at him through his reflection in the closet mirror on my right. He sits facing away, toward the window.

“Do you want to talk about what happened before you got here?” I feel the air grow heavy in the room after I ask.

His shoulders move with a deep breath. “I was frightened, and my first thought was to come see you,” he admits.

Turning his head, he peers over his shoulder to look at me.

I don’t need the mirror; I can feel his eyes skim over my barely clothed body.

All I’m wearing is a thin top and cheeky underwear.

“Are you still… frightened?” I ask, taking my time to close the drawers I rummaged through. My curiosity is clawing at me to make this man open up, but I know pushing him isn’t the way to go.

“Vivian, I always am.” Still sitting on the bed, he dips his head to watch as his fingers fiddle with the raccoon blanket.

“But I promise to work through it, I just ask that you don’t tire of me while I try to become the man you deserve.

” He meets my eyes through the mirror for a second, but I break contact by turning on my heel to face him.

Holding the shirt in my arms, I grasp onto it when I ask, “This isn’t casual anymore, is it?”

“Truth be told, I don’t think I ever wanted it to be,” he reveals.

“Yeah, me neither.” I bite my lip to contain a smile. At least we’re on the same page with that. I’m not sure what it means going forward, but we’ll be going forward together.

“Good,” he replies with a nod. The slight tug of his lips is small, a tight smile forming despite his short reply. In a quick move, he strips himself of the dirty shirt, and I’m left trembling at what I see.

“Your tattoo,” I gasp lightly, kneeling onto my bed slowly. This is the first time I’ve seen it clearly and up close. The only other time I saw it was in the dim light of Knight’s room as we were falling asleep. “Can I touch it, please?”

He remains silent for a few seconds and stays facing the wall. It’s like he’s calculating the risk or trying to talk himself in or out of it, I don’t know. I sit on my heels, staying a good distance away from him just in case he decides he doesn’t want me to touch him.

Large hands tense and release my sheets several times before I hear him say, “You can.” His hushed tone doesn’t take away from the gravity of the situation, of what he’s permitted me to do.

I shuffle closer, already taking note of the littering of scars I felt the other day. They weren’t so visible last time, but now they sit raised beneath the dark ink that covers them.

Keeping my strokes light, I first trace over the thick, structural lines of the castle, where most of the scars lie. With each one I feel, I bend down to press kisses onto them. With my tongue, I follow the delicate lines of ivy and other vines that surround the fortress.

Knight’s body quakes, his breathing becoming uneven as he reaches a hand over to grasp my knee for support.

If you would have asked me at the end of summer, I never thought I’d see Knight as anything more than my handsome as fuck boss.

But he’s become so much more. The businessman with the Gothic castle tattooed onto his back, who knows all my favorite things and argues with me to no end…

I shake my head at the ridiculousness of it all.

The man who carries all this pain.

“Will you tell me what happened?” I ask, resting my head on his shoulder once I’ve had my fill.

“I will,” he swallows, reaching over his shoulder to place his hand over mine near the top of his back. “Not now, darling. But, soon.” Squeezing my hand and pulling, he turns his head to press his lips to the tips of my fingers.

“I’d like to get dressed now.” He stands, leaning over the bed to reach the T-shirt I have for him. Not a second after he’s got it on, there’s a single loud knock on my bedroom door.

We both jump at the sound, startled out of our tender moment.

“Vivian?” Ezekiel’s voice carries through the door.

“Why is my cousin here?” Knight asks in a whisper as he rushes to get his shirt on.

“I don’t know!” I scramble to get some pants on. I don’t think Ezekiel would be cool with seeing all that, or with discovering Knight in my room. He’d probably ask a million questions that I don’t know how to answer right now.

Another knock. “Are you awake?”

Without suggesting it, Knight is already moving toward the window and struggling to unlatch the lock.

“So you can break in through the window, but you can’t open it up?” I whisper-shout, walking over to the door.

“Give me a sec, Ezekiel!” I actually shout this time.

Knight rolls his eyes at me, groaning when he finally opens it up from its stuck position. Once he’s sitting, straddled on the ledge of the first-floor window, I blow him a kiss that he catches and places on his heart before falling dramatically out of the window.

I must have opened the door a second too early because Ezekiel stands on the other side, his eyes narrowed and head tilted in confusion as he looks at me questioningly.

“I’m sorry to wake you, but I require your assistance in a bit of an emergency,” the professor explains. As if he can’t help himself, his eyes look over my shoulder to the open window. “Did I hear a disturbance?”

“Yeah, that’s just the raccoon.”