Epilogue
LUCY
Iwas never going to get used to sharing a space with Knox, nor did I want to.
Sitting on the creaky stool in his nana’s kitchen, I had my new sketchbook perched on my lap. It had been at least a year since I’d properly sketched something—where the piece was meant to be a sketch, rather than a sketch predating the painting—but here I was.
My boyfriend was in front of the stove, like he always loved to be. No matter how much time he spent at Valero Pub & Grill with two of my best friends, he never tired of cooking.
Now, I could be selfish and say that I was happy he cooked for me every day, but there was just something beautiful about Knox at the stove.
The small smile on his face, the relaxed ease in his broad shoulders, and the flexing of his forearms while he chopped, stirred, and otherwise handled his kitchen tools and ingredients. I couldn’t look away.
So that brought me here, sketchbook in hand, hatching in shading of where Knox’s neck flexed, and where his shirt collar met that little notch in his spine right next to a mark I’d been able to leave on him that morning while he was still waking up.
I’d paid for it, of course, but I’d never enjoyed payback so much in my life.
I bit my lip as I added more darkness to that contour of his shoulder and neck.
Knox didn’t know that I was drawing him, obviously, or I’d be paying for that, too.
“Lucy?”
My eyes snapped from his sexy shoulders to his dark eyes, soft with curiosity. My pencil stilled in my hand.
“What are you doing?” Knox chuckled. “You look like you’re misbehaving.”
“Is it really misbehaving if I have no rules?” I shot back with a grin.
Living with Knox was the best choice I’d ever made. We got to share the house he grew up in, I learned more about him every day, and I didn’t have to worry about being barged in on by my family, who would check to make sure I wasn’t doing anything unflattering for our family.
I’d made a mess of the house more than once, especially before my studio was set up in what was once his nana’s bedroom.
When I heard Knox’s keys in the door, I tensed up, my body preparing for something I’d always known but never realized.
But Knox came in, saw my mess, and had slid his arms around me like nothing was amiss.
He’d pressed a kiss to my neck and whispered a greeting that was lost in the static of my brain, but also served to calm me down one word at a time.
Since then, it had been learning how to live in a house without those silent rules.
Jackson and I also had to learn how to live with someone again, though we’d both grown used to and fond of Knox while he’d been in our apartment with us. Now, Jackson would hop up into our laps each night and snuggle right in with us like this had always been his life.
I almost wish it had, but I wouldn’t change anything if it meant I might not have met Knox and had gotten to know him the way I had.
“Baby?”
I blinked. “Sorry. Lost in thought. What did you say?”
Knox hummed and flicked the stove off with one swift movement. His eyes fell to my sketchbook, and I instinctively—guiltily—pulled it against my chest to hide it from sight.
His eyes blazed. “What are you drawing, Lucy?”
“Nothing!” But my voice was too high to be anything but a lie. I planted my foot on the ground, ready to make a run for it, but Knox was faster.
He lunged across the kitchen, grabbing at me as I tried to round the island into the living room.
“Not so fast!”
Knox’s arms wrapped around my torso, sketchbook and all, and hauled me onto the countertop. He wedged himself in between my legs and tugged at the sketchbook.
He didn’t pull it away from me, but the move was insistent nevertheless.
“Show me.”
I pouted. “Why?”
“Because I want to know what you were looking at with those eyes of yours.”
I gasped. “What’s wrong with my eyes?”
Knox kissed me, tilting my head up like I would ever reject one of his kisses. They always made my toes curl and my body forget how to move properly.
“Absolutely nothing,” Knox hummed against my lips before pulling away fully. “But they’re your bedroom eyes, the ones you get when I take my shirt off, and I want to know what you were looking at that made you feel that way.”
I blushed. First of all, Knox without a shirt on was the epitome of beauty. Second, he shouldn’t be looking at my eyes so closely anyway, even if it did send a thrill up my spine.
“Show it to me, Lucy,” Knox purred in my ear.
I shivered and tilted my head to accept the kiss I knew he would give me.
His lips brushed over my skin, followed quickly by the tiniest bite.
“Say please,” I breathed, like I had any power here whatsoever.
But Knox didn’t hesitate.
“Please, baby. Show me.”
I turned the sketchbook in my lap, sad when it forced us apart, but glad when the distance gave me a front-row seat to the shock on his face.
It quickly turned into a smirk, though, and his eyes returned to mine.
“Oh, so you were looking at me with bedroom eyes.”
I knew I was bright red, but I couldn’t find it in myself to be embarrassed. “Maybe.”
“Maybe?” he hummed, setting my sketchbook aside and bracketing me in with his arms.
“Okay, fine. I was definitely looking at you like that,” I admitted. “I can’t help it. You’re just so stunning.”
I didn’t even get a look at his face before I was being kissed with the passionate fire that was Knox Bristol.
His arms held me tightly against him, palms flat against my lower back under my shirt, pulling me up and into him and pressing our bodies flush together.
He lifted me into his arms, and I groaned when I felt his hard length against my ass, my legs finding their purchase around his waist.
“Let me show you just how stunning I find you, Lucy.”
I shivered and nodded, pliant in his arms as he carried me to our bedroom and kicked the door closed behind us.
Thank you for reading Auctioned to the Artist.