Chapter 8
KNOX
“What are we doing here?” Sloane asks as her little brother explores my living room.
I don’t have a good answer for her. Not one that will preserve the distance I need to keep between us.
“Because I want you here,” I offer her instead.
The truth I won’t tell her is that I have been pissed since I woke up this morning.
Not because we had to part ways to be around the team.
Well, not just that, but also because she gave up something I could tell was important to her just to keep a job.
Part of me liked thinking that because it allowed me to put her in the box with women like Madison who were willing to do anything to get ahead, but a nagging voice in the back of my head wouldn’t really let me believe it.
I had to see for myself if there was something more.
Now, I’m a bit more obsessed than I was before.
Sacrificing her virginity for her family is something else.
It’s definitely not something Madison would do.
Yes, it’s about the money, but after seeing her house I understand.
I’ve had money my entire life. Too much of it, really.
For people like Sloane, who don’t have enough money, losing even a little bit of it means choosing which bills you can pay, and whether or not there’s food on the table.
I’m a bastard, because even knowing this doesn’t mean I’m going to back off of her. If anything it deepens my interest and tells me I’ve got more power over her than I first thought. That’s a dangerous piece of information for this version of me.
Sloane stamps her foot to recapture my attention. Her eyes narrow, and I know she wants to argue, but Xander runs back into the room.
“You have a PlayStation!” Xander exclaims.
Weston got it for me a couple of Christmases ago, because he thought I was too uptight. He was right that I needed something to play with, but video games aren’t what I need.
Just a little temptress with gray eyes.
“Knox,” she hisses to regain my attention.
I don’t give it to her though. Instead I follow after her brother and get him set up with one of the games West provided with the machine.
It’s obvious that Sloane still wants to have this conversation, so I play a couple of rounds with her brother.
I know that people think that athletes are naturally good at all kinds of games, but I don’t have the attention span for video games.
Not when there is something more interesting to play within reach.
She needs to learn that she doesn’t get to demand answers from me though. I’ll admit that I’m starting to like her. I’m not completely heartless. Not loving her doesn’t mean I can’t like her. How could I not?
Eventually she gives up trying to force the conversation. Good, she needs to learn that there’s only one of us that will control our interactions, and it isn’t her. She will get whatever I choose to give her, and only when I choose to give it.
Xander yawns, but I can see he’s fighting sleep. I glance across the room at the large clock that’s mounted on the wall.
“Shit, little man, it’s almost midnight. I think it’s time for you to hit the hay,” I tell him.
His face scrunches up. “Why would I hit hay? That would be dumb.”
“He means it’s time for you to go to sleep,” Sloane says in a husky whisper.
I wonder if she knows what’s coming for her when her brother is safely tucked in across the apartment. Judging by the way she refuses to meet my eyes, I’d say she has a pretty good idea.
Xander looks around the apartment. “Where am I supposed to sleep? I don’t really have to sleep on hay, do I?”
I chuckle. “No, I have a guest room. Let’s go get you set up.”
He tries to stifle another yawn, but fails.
I give him a look my nanny always gave me when I wanted to stay up late and he caves.
Sloane follows behind when I lead him to the other side of my apartment. There are actually three rooms on this side, all conveniently out of earshot of the main suite.
He looks around the room warily, and I try to see it from a child’s point of view. It’s a bit dark, and definitely decorated for adult guests.
Xander stands just inside the room and studiously watches his foot trace a pattern on the rug. “Do you have a nightlight?”
Shit. How could I not realize that a little boy would still want a nightlight?
“Uhm,” I scratch my head, “I’ve got a lamp.” I reach out and turn on a small dimmable bulb that is situated on the dresser across the room. “Will that work?”
He smiles up at me with a grin missing a tooth. “Yep! Thanks, Knox.”
He turns his attention to Sloane. “Can you read me a story?”
I am about to tell them that I don’t have any children’s books, but she just reaches into his bag and pulls out Goodnight Moon.
He smiles when he sees it, even though it seems a bit young for him. “Mom’s favorite,” he sighs.
The smile she returns is sad, but somehow full of love. I think it might be the most authentic look I’ve seen her wear yet.
“She used to read it to you every night,” she tells him, and I can tell this story is a part of their routine.
Silently, I excuse myself and let them have this time alone. I don’t go far though. Propping against the wall in the hallway I listen to her read to him. I’m hoping for more insight into their dynamic. I can’t quite figure out why she seems more like his mother than his older sister.
It gives me ideas I work hard to squash. I don’t intend to keep her, so I shouldn’t be letting my mind wander where it’s going. My thoughts are whispering that Sloane might be the answer.
She can’t be, though. It’s one thing to use her to scratch an itch, but she’s too young for the ideas worming their way into my thoughts. There’s a whole life in front of her. I can’t take all of that from her because I am developing some kind of sick need to own her.
Still, it seems she’s had to grow up way too fast. She might be young by the calendar, but I’m starting to see that she’s carried a heavy burden for years that has aged her soul.
I could make her life so much easier. It’s clear she’s had to struggle every day to make ends meet, not sure why but it feels like that burden has fallen solely on her shoulders.
If I allow myself to keep going down this path, I think I could offer her the security she doesn’t seem to have.
Sloane has no idea what I will do with the information I can learn from having both of them here.
Her brother has already let some details slip about how his sister takes care of him.
Not his father. I doubt Sloane would have let me step foot in her house if she’d known how I will use this information against her.
That’s definitely a genie that can’t be put back in the bottle though, and I plan to use any and everything I can to keep her under my control.
That might make me a bastard, but being owned by me doesn’t have to be a horrible thing.
It can be quite pleasurable if she can get over any youthful romantic notions about love and family.
That’s a big if though. Even though I’ve disabused myself of any such childish notions doesn’t mean that she has to let go of them.
It isn’t that I don’t believe people can feel love, but building a life on such a fleeting emotion is a piss poor way of creating a stable life.
I like her. I enjoy her body. She has qualities that I want in a wife.
When that word pops into my head I almost choke. But, it takes root and I can’t argue with the logic.
Sloane exits the guest room and finds me reeling.
Her eyes narrow and shift sideways to study me.
I put her on edge. It would be weird if I didn’t.
She was a virgin until last night. Instead of fumbling touches on a third date I pushed her straight into the deep end.
I can’t fault her for treading water around me.
I vow to myself not to scare her further with these thoughts until I even know if this is what I want. It’s quite possible I’m just spinning out from Madison’s betrayal and what that means for the plans I was making for us.
That has to be it, I comfort myself. I only met this woman less than a week ago. I’ve spent one night with her. Until I know if she can meet my needs, which includes giving me children, I need to put the brakes on these errant thoughts.
“Is he sleeping?” I ask.
She nods. I notice she doesn’t offer much information on her own. Not that I want to fill the space between us with useless chatter. Madison was always going on about shopping excursions or other vapid things that she knew I didn’t care about.
Not for the first time I’ve wondered why I ever thought Madison and I were right for each other. When I really dig deep into my feelings I only find humiliation for the way things ended. There’s no sadness that she’s not part of my life anymore. She hurt my ego, not my heart.
I reach out my hand to her. She takes a look at it and hesitates before taking it.
“Sloane,” I growl a warning.
It’s enough to break her out of the indecision loop going on in her head and she takes my hand.
“I know you don’t want us here so you could play video games with my little brother.”
“You needed to know he was safe and looked after if you were going to be able to really submit to me. I don’t want your head anywhere else other than right here with me.”
“And what do you plan to do with me?” she asks with a quiver in her voice.
“Whatever I want, and you’re going to let me. Right?” I push.
She sucks her bottom lip into her mouth and chews on the corner.
I ignore her silence and lead her the rest of the way across the marble monstrosity of my apartment. Seeing all of the touches that were all chosen by Madison makes this place feel less and less like my home. Tomorrow I’ll start the process to list this place and move.
In my room I shut and lock the door. Her brother is sleeping, but if he wakes up I don’t want to scar the kid for life.
I turn to face her. “You disobeyed me.”
She licks her lip, an obvious sign of her nerves. “I’m in here. I listened.”
“I asked you a question, and you didn’t answer me.”
Her eyes open wide with fear. “I thought it was a rhetorical question.”
I should feel guilty for testing her boundaries the way I plan to, but I need to sort out my head, and I need to do it before my imagination runs too far away from me.
My fingers work to unknot the tie around my neck.
I’m itching to shed the suit I’m forced to wear to and from games.
This is one part of this job I won’t miss.
Of course my father plans for me to take over for him almost the moment I hang up my skates for good, so I guess escaping suits isn’t really in the cards for me.
I drop the tie on the floor, giving it the respect I have for these garments. My suit jacket follows after. I don’t give a shit that this suit probably costs more than their monthly expenses. It’s just another thing trying to cage me in, and I’m done leashing myself.
The funny thing is that while I take away her choices I’ve never felt more free. There’s something about Sloane that makes me feel like the real me is finally getting to come out. I’m not sure the person I’m becoming is a good one, but at least for the first time I’m being authentic.
I walk around her and watch her chest rise and fall with anxiety. I bet if I touched her pulse point right now I’d feel it racing. I wonder if she feels alive the same way I do right now.
She doesn’t turn around to face me as I move behind her. Without even commanding her she listens instinctually.
Gently, I lift her hair away from her neck and drape it over her shoulder to get access to the zipper on her dress. This is another prim business number. It hugs every curve on her body, showcasing her hourglass figure. This is the ideal, not the waif look that Madison starves herself to achieve.
The only sound in the room is the increasingly ragged nature of Sloane’s breathing, and the soft whisper of the zipper as I slowly drag it down. Thank fuck this is one of those that the zipper runs the entire length of the dress. Once it’s open I shove it down over her shoulders.
It falls to the floor with my jacket. I like seeing our clothes mingling together. It symbolizes how I won’t let anything come between me and her body. Not even little things like hanging up clothes.
Her bra and underwear are sweet and innocent. More proof that this woman was innocent until recently. I make a mental note to take her shopping and make her wardrobe reflect the changes I’ve made to her life.
I trace my finger down her spine. When I get to the clasp of her bra I unhook it and let it fall to the floor.
Her hands open and close in a fist, but otherwise she does nothing to protest the liberties I’m taking with her.
My caresses continue to her hips, and I slip my thumbs into the waistband of her plain cotton underwear and drag them down her toned legs.
Circling around her again I slowly undo the cuff links on my shirt and roll up the sleeves past my forearms. This is my quiet before the storm I will bring into her life, because this is the moment I will learn whether or not she can be what I need.