Chapter 10
MAREN
For a second, Knox just stands in the doorway of the shower, looking at me like I’m an unexploded bomb he has to defuse.
The bathroom is small. Bare concrete walls and a metal showerhead bolted to the ceiling. When the water hits the floor, it echoes around the room.
In here, it’s impossible to hear the storm outside, but equally impossible to miss the one raging in here.
Knox finally moves and steps under the spray as if he’s stepping into a fight he knows he’s going to lose. And for all my words of modesty, of keeping distance, I want him to lose his battle so badly.
His hair darkens and flattens against his forehead as I take in the masterpiece of his body. Water slicks down his broad shoulders and his chest, which is covered in a brush of hair painted with the occasional gray.
Hard muscle, old scars, and colorful ink cover him.
When he steps back and opens his eyes, he sees me watching, and it’s a fight to keep my arms by my side, to not cover my body from eyes I know shouldn’t be seeing it. For a moment, neither of us says anything, until, finally, Knox reaches toward the three dispensers. “This one soap?” he asks.
I nod.
He pumps some into his hand. “This is going to sting, but it’s all we’ve got.”
His voice has that rough, practical tone, the one that fills me with confidence that, regardless of the situation, he would always be able to utterly and ruthlessly take care of me.
“Just get it over with.” I close my eyes as he washes the wound in my hairline with the gentlest of touches.
It does sting.
Badly.
Enough to bring me to the brink of tears, but I swallow deeply. Because this man is helping me, and I don’t want to cause him more distress.
When he’s done, he takes my chin and nudges my head back into the spray. The water eases away the sting, and when I step out of the spray again, he gently wipes the water from my face with his thumbs as he cups my cheeks.
Knox releases me. “Let me see your arm.”
I lift it obediently, and he takes my wrist, turning it so he can see the places where I broke the skin when I fell. My bicep, my elbow, my palm. His hands are huge around mine, calloused and warm.
“You’re gonna feel all this tomorrow,” he mutters.
“Pretty sure I already feel it.”
A ghost of a smile tugs at the corner of his mouth as he works the soap slowly over my skin.
He’s careful in tender places, steady and deliberate in others.
The whooshing continues through my temples again but I can’t decide if it’s adrenaline again or the feeling of being hemmed in this shower with a man I wish would slide his fingers between my breasts and down to my clit to offer it some respite.
My chest brushes against his arm as I shift my weight.
He stills, and the air crackles between us.
“Sorry,” I murmur.
His gaze returns to my face. “Don’t apologize.”
The words are quieter than I expected. Water runs over his strong cheekbones and drips from the edge of his scruff. This time, when he lifts his hand to rinse the soap away, his actions are slow and absent-minded.
I should step back.
So should he.
Instead, his hand pauses at the curve of my hip like he’s forgotten why he’s here. His eyes flick down my body, then jerk back up again.
But knowing he can’t keep his eyes off me does something to me.
Knox exhales through his nose like he’s trying to steady himself, but I don’t want him to. I want him to show me how to be wild and reckless, and do whatever feels good and right in the moment, instead of dealing with existential thoughts and implications of how what I do affects everyone else.
His erection brushes against me, but Knox doesn’t move. He’s thick and hard.
“This is a bad idea,” Knox says.
Given the dimensions of his cock, I disagree.
“I think we both knew that before we even stepped foot in here.”
The words hang between us.
And the next time he touches me, there isn’t anything practical about it. His lips hit mine. Water sprays everywhere, but I don’t care.
I want Knox on me and in me and all over me.
His hand slides up my ribs, and I suck in a breath when his thumb brushes the underside of my breast.
His head tilts, and he pulls his lips away from mine just long enough to utter, “Tell me if you want me to stop.”
“I will. But don’t. Please.”
Something shifts in his expression. As if those words unleash the last of his restraint. His mouth finds mine in a hungry way that makes my knees weaken. Water runs relentlessly between us, the concrete walls holding the heat close.
The rough edge of his kiss eases into something softer and tender. Something I want to melt into. When he finally pulls back, he rests his forehead lightly against mine. “I shouldn’t be doing this.”
“Because I’m Caldwell’s daughter?”
His mouth twitches. “He ever finds out, this might just cause the heart attack I’ve been waiting for.”
“Why else shouldn’t you be doing this?”
He runs a knuckle down my cheek. “That one isn’t enough?”
“I just want to know what else I’m up against.”
His eyes search my face as if he’s weighing just how honest he wants to be. “I’m old enough to be your dad.”
“Technically, if you knocked some girl up at school while you were sixteen. Otherwise, no. You’re not. I’m an old soul and you’re…well, you.”
His lips brush mine briefly. “Even if it’s just for one night, you deserve better than tangling yourself up with me.”
I place my palm on his pec, just above his heart. “Now that’s just martyrdom. And it’s not very convincing.”
His brow furrows. “Why not?”
“You saved me from those two men, carried me through a hurricane, and stayed with me to help me shower so I wouldn’t catch hypothermia.”
He shakes his head. “Don’t make me sound like a hero. You and I both know you’re not getting hypothermia, and it’s not the reason I’m standing here. That isn’t going to wash with anyone I know.”
“It’s better than most men I’ve dated.”
For a second, Knox just stares at me, and then, he laughs. “You need a better dating pool, sweetheart.”
“Have you seen where I live? Options run low in a town this size, and I work too hard to go much farther afield.” I don’t tell him that it’s something I want and miss.
Someone to love me. Someone to have children with.
Especially children. And not just the responsibility and joy of having them…
but of making them. I have vivid dreams and fantasies about how that would feel, the pulse of a man’s cock as he comes, knowing it could lead to a child…
Knox runs his hand through his wet hair, pushing it back off his face. “I don’t want a relationship, Maren. I feel like a dirty fuck even considering taking advantage of you, even if it’s for just one night.”
“If this is about you consenting, then we can stop. I’ll rinse off and leave you alone so you can take care of…well…that.” We both glance down to where his exceptionally thick erection rubs up against my hip. “But if this is about you trying to be noble or good, then don’t.”
The look that flashes across his face is almost laughably helpless. Like he’s run out of objections, has all the permission he needs, but still can’t decide.
So, I find my courage and reach for his wrist, tugging him to me until his fingers rest on me. Then, I drag his hand lower, past my belly button, over my pubic bone, until his fingers rest over my clit.
“Jesus, Maren,” he says reverently, his eyes fixed on mine, not our hands.
I spread my feet a little farther apart, and Knox slides his hand between my thighs, cupping me softly before running his middle finger through my folds.
I don’t know if he can tell how wet I am because of the shower water, but I buck against him.
“This okay?” he asks.
“Yeah, Knox. It’s very okay.”
His other hand cups the back of my neck and pulls me to him in a kiss that steals all the air from my lungs. We’ve crossed a line that we can’t come back from, and I don’t care.
My hips buck again when Knox slides a finger deep inside me.
“Good girl,” he encourages. “So good letting me touch you like this. So fucking wet for me.”
He can tell.
His strokes keep me on my toes. Sometimes he pulls out of me completely to circle my clit. Sometimes he presses back in. When he adds a second finger, I begin to squirm. Getting myself to orgasm has always been easy. Trusting a man to do it for me, not so much.
But in the intimacy of the shower and whatever this is between us, I find myself hurtling towards one with little effort.
The hand at the back of my neck squeezes tighter, and I reach between us to wrap my fingers around his cock for the first time.
“Maren,” he gasps. “Yeah, squeeze me, sweetheart.”
He thrusts into my palm in the same rhythm he thrusts his fingers inside. He moves his lips to my ear. “I wanna feel you come on my fingers. I wanna come on this body of yours. You gonna help me do both of those things like a good girl?”
I nod.
“Good,” he says. “Can you feel my fingers fucking you?”
My mouth is dry, so I nod again.
“Yeah, you do. Thinking about what it would feel like if it were my cock. Would you squeeze it as tight as you are now?”
I don’t know how to answer that question, so I press my forehead to his chest. I feel pinned to him, even though there’s nothing holding me there.
My hips grind against his fingers, and Knox’s other hand drops from the back of my neck to the cheek of my ass to grope and squeeze it.
His thumb slips between the cheeks of my ass.
Not enough to reach my asshole, but the threat of it is enough to amplify everything I’m feeling.
I close my eyes and let my thoughts drift. Wondering how different it would feel if the sum of us added up to more than this one moment.
Happy, together.
Not letting the world outside interfere.
Every thought I have coalesces between my thighs. Knox finger-fucks me in earnest, and I work his cock. Both of us seeking…everything.
“Ah, fuck,” Knox groans. “Feels so good. I’m gonna cover you in my cum soon.”
I’m sure that, at some point tomorrow, I’ll see that for the red flag it probably is, but right now, it’s one of the hottest things ever muttered to me in a shower. “I want…that…oh, God.”
My orgasm is right there, and as if sensing it, Knox doesn’t change a thing. He keeps pace and force and…
“Knox.” The single word comes out like a bark that echoes around the shower.
“Ah, shit…yeah…mmm…I can feel that,” Knox says. “Ride it, sweetheart. Ride it ’til it’s done.”
My legs and knees shake, my head spins, and none of it has anything to do with my injuries. I continue to shake, even as the dregs of the orgasm seep away, leaving me utterly adrift.
Knox covers my hand with his own and begins to work his cock harder and faster. “Watch it, Maren. Watch what you do to me.”
I look down to see his cock with the thick vein on the underside. The strokes shorten, more focused on the head, and his body occasionally jerks as if the sensation is too much.
Anticipation builds. Aftershocks of my own orgasm ripple through me as I watch Knox build up to his. His gasps of breath whisper across my ear, making me shiver.
Water splashes down between us as Knox throws his head back for just a second. “Ah, fuck. Yeah. Here it comes.”
And I watch as thick ropes of cum splash onto my stomach to be quickly washed away by the water.
Tears sting my eyes and I don’t know why, as I watch the last of his cum disappear down the drain.