Chapter 43
Knox
The engine hums beneath us as we roll out of the hospital lot. Sloane's arms are locked around my waist, cheek between my shoulder blades. My eyes stay on the mirrors.
Harrison's sedan was in the far corner when we left. I clocked the make, the plates, the angle of his window. Now I'm scanning for headlights that match. Watching for anyone leaving too fast, following too close, hanging too far back.
Three blocks. Four. I take two turns that go nowhere, looping through a residential stretch with no reason to be there except to flush a tail. The road stays clear. No sedan. No second car. By the fifth block, I'm sure. We're clean.
That's when Sloane's hands move. She slips one beneath the leather, palm flat against my T-shirt, feeling muscle. The other follows, under the hem, fingertips tracing my abs with steady pressure.
Her thighs clench around me, knees braced against mine. She crowds closer, breath hot through fabric even as wind whips around us. Heat floods low, my cock hardens against denim. I keep my grip on the bars, but tension coils through every muscle.
She sets her mouth to the back of my neck, right where my hairline starts. "Knox." Her voice is rough and urgent.
I veer off the main road. Darkness stretches.
The city falls away and trees crowd close.
Her hands slide lower, thumbs grazing my waistband, seeking contact.
I spot what I need. An old access gravel road, cutting behind a line of oaks dense enough to block sight lines from the main road.
I ride in, past the tree line, behind a rusted equipment shed where the bike is invisible from any direction.
Kill the engine. Night closes in. I hold half a breath, listening.
I check the road behind us. The tree line stays dark. Silent besides crickets and her breathing. Harrison didn't follow, and nobody else did either. Only I move. I strip my helmet off, set it on the tank, and swing my leg over.
My hands find her hips, hauling her forward along the seat until her knees bracket my legs.
She gasps, grabbing my shoulders. I unclip her helmet.
When I lift it off, her hair spills out, mussed and wild, the tie slipping free and landing on the seat.
Her cheeks are flushed, eyes bright and fierce.
Her scrubs are wrinkled from the shift; the fabric is soft and worn.
"You pulled over."
"You started touching me on the highway." I take her jaw, tilt her face up. "Tell me what you need, sweetheart."
Her throat moves. Fingers curl tighter in my jacket. "You." Voice sharp, certain. "It's still in my head. I want you to fuck me until all I can think about is you."
I crash my mouth onto hers, tongue sweeping in.
She moans, hands dragging up my chest into my hair, and draws me closer.
One hand braced on the seat, the other firm on her jaw, I press her back until the tank stops her.
She's still on the bike, knees apart, me standing between her thighs.
The height lines us up and she knows it, rolling her hips against the ridge of my cock through denim.
"More," she whispers against my mouth.
I trace her jaw with my lips, dip to the tender skin beneath her ear.
She arches, fingers knotting in my hair.
"You want to come back to your body?" I growl against her throat.
"Listen to me. I'm going to fill you so full of me there's no room for anything else.
Just the sound of you saying my name when I make you come. "
She laughs, breathless, teeth dragging her bottom lip. "You're sure of yourself."
"You married me. You knew what you were getting."
Her hand trails down my chest, nails scraping through cotton, and grazes over my cock. Her fingers trace the length of me, measuring.
"Knox." Demanding.
I grip her hip. "Use your words."
Her heel finds the peg, bracing hard, pulling herself tighter against me. "Remind me who I belong to," she says, voice thick as she grinds against me.
I lean in, foreheads together. "You're mine," I tell her, level even as my body aches. "You chose me. You stay with me. No one changes that."
She nods once, jaw set. "Yes."
"Say it back."
"Yours. I'm yours."
I kiss her this time with intent, hands beneath her scrub top, fingers on bare skin. She shivers into my touch. I push the fabric up, thumbs tracing her ribs and the curve beneath her breasts. She arches into my palms.
"No dinosaurs tonight," I murmur against her mouth.
She bites my lip. "Shut up about the dinosaurs."
"Just checking."
My hands travel down her stomach and hook into the waistband of her scrub pants. I draw back far enough to work them over her hips, down her thighs. She braces on the seat and lifts, letting me drag them past her knees, off one leg. Good enough.
I step back between her thighs. She's bare from the waist down except for one pant leg bunched at her ankle, and the sight of her on my bike in a wrinkled scrub top with nothing else hits me somewhere primal.
I find her already wet. I groan, two fingers circling her entrance. Her hips jerk.
"Every time you say my name, sweetheart, I'm fucking done. You wreck me."
She rocks against my hand, seeking friction. I give her one finger, curling it until her breath catches. A second. She clenches around me, thighs trembling.
"How do you want me?" I whisper low and hot against her ear as my thumb circles her clit.
Her voice drops, unwavering despite the flush climbing her throat. "You know what I want."
"I want to hear you say it." I curl deeper, work my thumb harder. Her spine bows.
She gasps. "Please. I need you inside me. Now."
I withdraw. She whimpers at the loss. Gripping her waist, I spin her, guide her forward until she's bent over the seat, hands braced on the tank.
Her back curves, scrub top riding up. She plants one foot on the ground, one knee on the seat.
I drag my wet fingers down her spine. She shivers, rocking back into me.
"Stay just that way."
I free my cock, line up, and drive into her in one long thrust. She takes every inch; the sound she makes, low and broken, echoes off the trees. I grip her hips, thumbs digging into the dimples at the base of her spine. For a beat I keep still, buried deep, feeling her pulse around me.
"Feel that?" I growl, withdrawing before slamming home. Hard. "That's where his voice dies. Right here."
She drops her head between her arms, knuckles white on the tank. "Again."
I give it to her again. And again. Each thrust measured, controlled, angled to hit the spot that makes her legs shake. One hand stays on her hip. The other runs up her back, shoves her scrub top and bra higher, reaches around to cup her breast, rolling the nipple until she whines.
"My girl." I fold over her, mouth at her shoulder blade, hips driving. "I can feel you getting close by the way you're gripping me."
Her body clenches, wetness flooding around my cock. She shoves back into every thrust, meeting me, matching my rhythm.
I move from her breast to her clit, rubbing tight circles. "You want to come? Let me hear who makes you feel this way."
"Knox. Please."
"Mine to protect. To fuck. Mine to keep." I drive deeper, changing the angle, flattening her against the seat.
She breaks. Muscles seizing, air gone, her whole body clamping down as she comes with a sharp cry that scatters birds from the trees. When her arms give out, she ends with her cheek on the cool leather of the seat, body shaking.
I keep moving through it. Gentler now, each stroke coaxing aftershocks out of her. Her walls pulse around me and the pressure builds at the base of my spine.
"Stay with me. Stay right here." Her head turns. Eyes open, glassy with pleasure, find mine over her shoulder. "I love you," I say, voice wrecked. "You hear me? I fucking love you."
"I love you too," she gasps, and that's it. I bury myself to the hilt, clamp her hips to mine, and come. The sound that tears out of me is her name, over and over, spilling into the dark.
For a long moment, neither of us moves. My forehead drops to her spine.
Her breathing evens out under my chest. Crickets fill the silence we left behind.
I ease out, and she hisses at the loss. I turn her, lift her back onto the seat facing me, and bring her close.
She wraps her arms around my neck, legs loose at my sides.
I slide two fingers between her thighs, pushing my cum back inside her. She gasps, body clenching around me.
"Mine," I murmur at her temple. "All of it. All of you." She nods against my chest. "Better?" I whisper.
"It's just you now."
My arms band around her. "Good."
She traces my jaw with her thumb, her expression easing into warmth. "You're surprisingly effective medication."
"Prescription only. Repeat doses. No substitutions."
She laughs, quiet, tucking against me.
I let the silence hold for a beat, ease back.
Her scrub pants are tangled around one ankle.
I crouch, work the fabric free, and guide them back up her legs.
She lifts her hips and I tug them over her waist, smoothing the drawstring flat, tying it the way she does, double-knotted, left over right.
Her scrub top is rucked up under her arms. I straighten it down, thumbs running along her sides.
She watches me the whole time. Quiet. Letting me.
I find her hair tie on the seat where it landed. She turns and I gather her hair, sweeping it back, wrapping the tie twice. Not as neat as she'd do it. Close enough.
"Since when do you do hair?" she murmurs.
"Since you taught me." I plant my mouth on the back of her neck. "Hold still." I tuck a loose strand behind her ear.
She catches my hand, touches her lips to my knuckles. We linger. I drop a kiss into her hair.
"We should head in. Malachi's expecting us."
She shifts. "You told him?"
"I texted him while you were finishing your last chart. He's gathering everyone. Phoenix and McKenzie are on their way."
She goes quiet for a beat. Nods. "Okay."
She helps me adjust clothes. As she tucks me back into my jeans, her touch lingers just enough to make me suck air through my teeth.
"Careful," I warn. "Don't get me started again."
She bites her lip. "Can't a girl help her man?"
"Ready?"
She nods. I fit my helmet on, then hers. She squeezes my sides with her thighs.
"You good back there?"
"Yeah." A beat. "Drive, husband."
I tighten my hands on the bars. I start the engine, feel her settle against me, and roll us back out onto the road. Her arms lock around my waist. My eyes find the mirrors out of habit. The road behind us is empty. For now.