Chapter 21 Maisie
Maisie
The drapes block out most of the sun, but not all. Enough light bleeds in from the sides that Knox’s face is clear to me as he sleeps flat on his back, and I can’t help but think…
He’s so beautiful.
I know you’re not supposed to find men beautiful, but whoever made up that particular rule never saw Knox sleeping. Every part of his body tempts me to touch.
He shares bits about himself slowly. His likes, his favorite TV show, small truths that slowly peel back the layers of who he is. When I turn from the TV or a book I’m reading, he’s there, quietly watching me with a hunger that makes my pulse leap and my heart soften.
Sundays have become my favorite day.
One of the best things about the weekends is when he comes back from a morning run and sprawls out on the couch to watch TV.
He always knows when I’m watching him, even when his eyes are closed because he’ll call out, “Get over here, baby.” And I always go, snuggling in with my palm against his chest and his lips brushing my forehead.
I have fallen asleep in his arms more easily than I ever have in any bed.
He’s sleeping inches away from me, the scents of praline and green apple teasing my senses. I can look as much as I want, and I do.
My eyes slide over his bare chest. Although he runs, he has a gym-honed, chiseled body, packed with muscle, rather than a lean runner's build. Most alphas do. Biology didn’t just give them more dominance than omegas and betas; it gave them the strength to enforce their wants.
Last night, he was in a t-shirt and dark gray shorts when he carried me up to his room and tucked me into his bed.
I liked it much more than I probably should have, fresh from an ex who lived to control me.
The rational side of my brain hadn’t said a word.
The submissive omega side of me liked the way he took control of the situation and of me.
He hadn’t asked. He’d seen I was tired, carried me up to his room, and wrapped his hard body around me.
I’ve been wanting to nest more these last few days. Bare skin against silk and cashmere. Self-indulgent snuggles on the couch with the alphas, I mentally call mine. Cheek against cheek, my hand slipping under their shirt when we’re watching TV.
All I seem to want is to be wrapped up in soft coziness.
Sex with Elias and Wyatt must have burned off some of the sexual need that had been building inside me. But last night, in Knox’s arms, I had wanted to rub myself against him until he rubbed back.
It’s early. There’s no alarm clock to tell me what time it is, and I don’t want to move around looking for his phone in case I wake him.
I’m not even close to being done looking.
He must have gotten up at some point to strip the clothes from his body.
It’s all on show now. As if just for me.
Hard lines, chiseled abs, light brown nipples, all inches away.
My hand stretches toward his chest, fingers hovering over golden skin. He kicks off so much heat, I want to crawl over him and steal just a little of it for myself.
Curling my fingers, I start to pull back. He’s asleep. If I touch him, I will wake him up.
“You can touch.”
I startle at his husky voice rumbling from his chest.
My eyes flick to his face.
His eyes are closed, lashes forming dark shadows on his cheeks. As if he feels me watching, he opens them and turns to look at me.
“I said you can touch,” he repeats, his voice rough from sleep.
Cheeks hot, I pull my hand from his chest without touching and grip the sheet I shoved off my body as I slept. He kicks off so much heat I would never need a comforter in his bed. “I thought you were sleeping. I didn’t want to wake you.”
“You wouldn’t have.”
“When did you wake up?”
Gray-green eyes go on a slow journey over my face. “When I felt you moving around.”
“I was going to get up,” I say unnecessarily.
It’s also a lie, but he doesn’t need to know that, right?
His mouth quirks, and his right eyebrow raises slightly. He’s much better at reading me than I am him because I think he knows I’m not telling the truth.
“Why didn’t you?” he asks instead of calling me a liar.
“Do you want me to go?” I start to get up.
His fingers circle my wrist, and he tugs, keeping me in his bed. “That isn’t what I asked.”
His tone is direct, and his gaze is always so commanding.
It doesn’t scare me or remind me of how controlling Derek was.
This is a man who knows what he wants, and his tone reflects that he isn’t shy about saying it.
But he won’t hurt me. I haven’t been afraid of him since he stood up too fast in Nico’s too-small office, and my heart lurched.
“Why did you take your shirt off last night?” I ask, wanting to distract him.
Amusement warms his gaze, catching me off guard.
“What?” I ask as my lips curl instinctively, mirroring his.
“You’re a chest girl,” he declares.
Cheeks burning, I scowl at him. “I am not a chest girl.”
He grins at me, all boyish and ridiculously hot as he pillows one arm behind his head, which immediately focuses my eyes on his chest, proving me a liar. “You are. We talk, you know.”
His eyes drift to my breasts, and my nipples pebble in response. When he wets his bottom lip with the tip of his tongue, it’s clear I’m not the only one into chests.
“About?” I prompt, pretending I’m not desperate for him to put his mouth on my breasts the way they ache for him to.
“You, things you might like, this habit you have of staring at our chests when we’re shirtless, about our future.”
It is truly embarrassing how difficult it is to decide which question to ask first, but I go with my head and not my raging hormones. “What about your future?”
He chuckles. “You wanted to ask about our chests first, didn’t you?”
“No, I didn’t.” I lie, feeling the tips of my ears heat.
He raises his eyebrow, but doesn’t call me out on my lie. “None of us is interested in the Florida job because of you. We want to stay here in Rios with you and start our own construction company.”
“Oh.” I scrunch my nose. “Why wouldn’t you talk to me about it?”
“We didn’t want to make demands on you before you knew what you wanted. Hunter said you froze when he brought up the future.”
“Yeah.”
I look away, recalling our conversation at the top of the stairs.
I’d been on the verge of running, terrified that if I stayed, Derek would hurt them to get to me.
And I was scared of staying so long that I wouldn’t want to leave because this isn’t about sex or attraction anymore.
It hasn’t been for a long time. This is something else.
Something scary and perfect and everything I never knew I wanted.
“He said there was a lot of quiet panicking,” he says.
“There was,” I admit in a quiet voice.
“And now?”
I lift my eyes to meet his. “I don’t know.”
He smiles. “You’re a terrible liar.”
I glare. “No, I’m not.” I move to poke his chest, but he catches my hand, lifts it to his mouth and presses a heart-stopping kiss on the inside of my wrist.
“You are,” he says softly. “That’s okay. I know what you want.”
I pull my hand from his and immediately miss the warmth of his touch. “You’re arrogant.”
He shrugs off my retreat with no change to his expression. “Not arrogant. I’m just good at reading you.”
He spends so much time quietly observing me; it doesn’t surprise me that he can read me so well. “And what do I want, Knox Winter?”
He watches me with intense focus, his gaze as possessive as it is open. “Us. A future in this town, and to keep making those homemade pies that have Nico laughing as he struggles to shut his cash register.”
I lift my brow. “Nico? No, he doesn’t.”
“You haven’t been to the diner since we started delivering those pies for you. They’re gone before midday, and people have started waiting outside before it opens. No one has driven out here to demand pies from you directly yet, but I wouldn’t be surprised if that starts soon.”
My jaw drops. “I don’t believe you.”
I’ve moved away from the pies on the menu, bored with apple and blueberry or cherries, and am testing out new flavor combinations all the time now.
Nico hadn’t seemed to mind when I told him what I was doing, having Wyatt, Hunter, Elias, and Knox bring back new ingredients for me to keep testing.
I never realized my pies were getting so popular.
He snorts. “Why do you think Nico hasn’t asked you when you’re going back to waitressing for him?”
I open my mouth to deny it. Then I shut it.
He’s right.
Every time I’ve brought up going back to work on the phone, Nico’s been vague and told me that whenever I’m ready to come back, the job is mine. Now I know why.
“He doesn’t want me as a waitress. He wants me to keep making pies.”
Knox tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. “To be fair, you did nearly pour hot coffee onto Wyatt’s cock, so maybe your strengths lie elsewhere.”
I poke his chest again, and he grins at me. “Chest girl. Told you.”
This time, I don’t deny it or take my hand off him. I flatten my palm on his warm, strong skin, carefully watching his expression in case he doesn’t like it. Muscles ripple under my hand, and his smile slowly fades. My belly tightens as his eyes flick to my mouth.
When he cradles the nape of my neck and draws my face toward his, I’m not surprised. This moment has been building since last night on the porch when I was positive he wanted to kiss me, but didn’t.
Knox kisses me so sweetly that my toes instantly curl. He fists my hair, keeping it out of both our faces as he draws me over his chest and extends the kiss. It ends sooner than I wanted, leaving me hungry for more.
“That was nice,” I whisper.
He licks his lips. “Yeah.”
As I lean in for more, he’s already there, giving me another one of his delicious, self-indulgent kisses.
“I sleep naked,” he says when we break apart.
I blink at him, the taste of him on my lips and all my thoughts in the sky. “Huh?”