Chapter 19
KNOX
Most people don’t smile when they’re headed to the gallows.
But here I am, grinning like an idiot while I swing onto the bike and kick the engine to life. Because the sooner I’m parked in Maren’s boathouse—which, fuck, is that a euphemism?—the sooner I’m going to be able to strip her naked.
When this inevitably ends, it’ll be easier to forget you if my memories of you aren’t tied to everything inside my home.
I should be agreeing with her. Like, Good idea, Maren. Let’s fuck in the emergency apartment and keep it casual.
But there is a niggling piece of me that wants this to be something more.
Even though it can’t ever be.
By the time I’ve moved the bike around the back of the building, Maren has locked up the bait shop. She holds the doorway to the boathouse open, and I pull my bike inside before she closes it behind us.
When I shut off the engine, silence drops around me, only broken by the gentle slap of water against the pilings.
Maren doesn’t say a word as she walks by me and heads up the stairs, and I frown, wondering where these sudden urges to be a boyfriend and lover come from.
I wanted her to wait so I could hold her hand and lead her.
I wanted to touch her as she walked by. But those all feel like rights I haven’t earned yet.
I suppose this is the point where a smarter man might stay on his bike and turn around without looking back.
But I’m not feeling smart.
I’m feeling lonely.
Like Maren.
This place smells like salt water and old rope, but that changes in the stairwell that leads up to the apartment.
And Maren is in there.
Waiting for me.
I drag my hand through my hair, glad of the break in proximity. Haven’t been so close to coming in my jeans in a few decades. Moving the bike and having a few minutes away from the feel of her skin beneath my calloused palms means I’m less likely to come too soon.
The apartment is exactly as I remember it, and yet, it’s not.
Because Maren’s clothes are on the sofa, neatly folded, and she’s beneath the covers, so I can just see her face and an inch of a naked shoulder.
For a moment, neither of us says anything. Her hair is loose around her shoulders, but there’s a faint crease where the elastic that held it back all day sat. It’s endearing.
She shifts slightly against the pillow, and my cock clocks that more of her skin is exposed.
“Are you planning on standing there all night?” she asks.
Something loosens in my chest. “I thought you wanted to feel more like a date. Was going to suggest we watch a movie or something.”
She arches one eyebrow. “I very much doubt a movie was on your agenda. But I’m pretty sure dates start with saying hello.”
A slow smile tugs at the corner of my lips. “I’m pretty sure we said a very thorough hello back in the bait shop.”
“Meh, that was foreplay and you know it.” Maren tugs the sheets up over her cheeks as the color rises in them.
I slip my cut off my shoulders and hang it on the hook next to the door. Her eyes follow the movement.
“You’re staring,” I say, and weirdly, I feel my face heat under the scrutiny. And it’s not like she didn’t already see me naked.
“You’re very stare worthy. I don’t want to miss a minute of this.”
The tension between us is thick enough to feel and my cock aches in anticipation. Maren pushes herself onto her elbows, and the sheets drop a little but defy gravity by clinging onto pert nipples.
I’m glad I hid the bike. Mainly because I don’t want the drama that comes with people knowing about the two of us. But there is also something deeply intimate about this being private.
Something just between the two of us that only grows the closer I get to her.
I nudge a piece of hair back behind her ear. “I’m gonna assume consent, given our earlier conversation, but you change your mind, you tell me and I’ll stop. I don’t like games or traffic light colors or any of that bullshit. Just say ‘Knox, stop’ and I’ll check in with you.”
Maren nods. “I’m not changing my mind. I’m here because I want to expand it.”
She holds my stare for a second, and then I lean down and kiss her. It’s slower than in the shop, the ones that felt rushed and hurried. Like we were stealing something from each other because we knew it was all we could give.
But now, we have time.
And she’s addictive. Like the first shot of an aged single malt, or the perfect purr of a freshly tuned bike.
My hand slides beneath the edge of the sheet where her skin is soft and warm to the touch, and I nudge it down over those juicy tits of hers. She makes a quiet sound against my lips as I cup one in my hand and brush my thumb over a taut nipple.
“You’re overdressed,” she murmurs.
I pull back to look at her. “I’m not in a hurry. You’re the one skipping the date part.”
“You can make it up to me.”
“How?” My voice drops low.
“Ruin me, Knox.”
The thought of doing that nearly wrecks my composure. “Maren.”
Her fingers slide around the back of my neck, and she pulls my mouth back to hers. “Stop talking.”
I’m more than happy to follow that instruction.
All the sex I’ve had in the last decade was about me. That’s what club girls are there for. There’s a reason they carry the nickname cum-buckets. It’s cheaper and more convenient than finding a hook-up at a bar, and I pride myself that I’ve never once been on any of those dating apps.
But right now, I want to make it good for her. I want Maren to enjoy herself and come back for more.
No matter how I try to compartmentalize what we’re doing here, I know it’s not a quick lay to work through shit. Exhaustion. Anger. Grief.
This is…special.
Kisses become the kind that explode. The kind that make your head spin and take your breath away at the same time. It’s the simplest and yet, most powerful, intimacy.
Touches become the kind that make bodies arch and ache.
I lift off her and tug my shirt over my head to avoid wasting time opening buttons. My socks quickly follow. I walk back to my cut and pull two of the condoms I keep in one of the pockets. When I return to the bed, I toss them onto the pillow next to the one Maren is lying on.
“Two?” she says, surprised.
Yeah, babe. You’ve got no idea what you let yourself in for.
“I got two more for the morning, if we need ‘em.”
Maren smiles at that.
Her eyes follow my fingers as I unfasten my belt and lower my jeans and boxer briefs at the same time.
The hunger in them when I slide beneath the covers and pull her to me is good for the ego. Because a man wants to be wanted, just like anyone else.
I’ve held onto and worked over a lot of naked bodies.
Couldn’t even begin to tell you my body count.
Skin on skin is a pretty heady thing, but to hold Maren like this is something altogether different.
And it’s not just the way her curves fit against mine or the way her softness offsets my hardness.
It’s the way she moves with me intuitively.
It’s part temporary insanity, part goddamn magic.
Hands move over shoulders, the heat rising between us as we stay wrapped around each other. And for a woman who just spent ten minutes warning me about broken hearts, she kisses me like she plans on stealing mine.
And I’m gonna have to put a fence around it to make sure that doesn’t happen.
Good luck with that one!
I’m already in bed with the one woman I shouldn’t be here with. The woman who just negotiated the rules of us sleeping together like it was a business deal. And I agreed to every single one of them without any negotiation.
And when she looks up at me, like this is the path to something real, I find it impossible to disagree, no matter how many times I tell myself we’re just banging this out of our system.
I move us so Maren is on her back, and I’m settled between her legs. It’s a risk, not having a condom on, but I don’t want to move yet, because right now, there’s so much of Maren’s body to learn.
As I drop kisses along her collarbone, I notice a scar about an inch long.
“Where’d you get this?’ I ask, stroking over the silvery pink skin with my thumb.
She points in the direction of the dock. “Learning to rollerblade out there.”
“Did you get better at it?”
Maren chuckles. “I did. But there’s an even bigger scar on my knee that I gained during the process.” She touches the large scar I have on my shoulder. “What about yours?”
I glance down at it. “The only time I ever underestimated a guy who brought a knife to a gun fight.”
Her eyes go wide. “Jesus, Knox.”
I grin. “It was a good fucking fight, though.” And with that, I feverishly kiss the skin behind her ear that makes her wriggle and squirm and laugh.
“I’m ticklish,” she cries, and I ease the kisses a little.
“I’m gonna store that detail away for future reference.”
“Fine,” she says. “What’s your weakness?”
I push the hair back from her face. “Right now, it’s pretty girls who own bait shops and secretly paint amazing artwork at night.”
Her smile tugs hard at my heart, and I kiss her again, because I want to taste sunshine.
She slides her fingers through my hair and tugs on it, and while I would never have said I was into that, there’s something about the way Maren does it that makes me feel wanted.
Like I’m not a walking dick, or the president of the club. I’m just Knox, and that’s enough for her.
“I like that we’re taking our time and all,” Maren says.
I smile. “I hear a ‘but’ coming.”
“But I want you, Knox. I have since you left my bed this morning.”
I climb to my knees and put on the condom. I’m usually Mr. Safety Conscious, but as I brace myself over her, all I can think about is what it would feel like to fuck her without one. Reaching between us, I grab my cock and nudge it to her entrance, and…
“Fuck,” I gasp.
She’s so wet for me already.
But I know I’m thick and hard, so for now, I take it slowly. A painful edging back and forth as she adjusts to my width and relaxes around me.
I remain focused on Maren’s face as I sink deeper and deeper into her.
Her eyes are wide; her mouth open a little. And there’s a pretty flush of color high on her cheeks.
“Oh, God, you’re stretching me.”
“You can take me, Maren. You’re gonna be such a good girl and take all of me.”
She cups either side of my face and pulls my mouth to hers, and the silent acceptance is all I need. I move in earnest, savoring every thrust that leads me a little deeper into her, knowing every withdrawal will drag against her clit.
“Love the feel of your pussy,” I mutter against her lips.
“It loves the feel of you,” she replies, and the corners of her mouth run up in a smile.
“What the hell am I going to do with you?” I ask. It takes a second to realize I said the words out loud.
Because this feels different.
“Make me come, hopefully.”
I kiss her again. “That feels like the bare minimum, sweetheart.”