Chapter 36
THIRTY-SIX
Reese loved watching Knight’s face. Most of the time, he had a cop poker face, sort of tight and drawn, hiding, revealing nothing but what he wanted to in his own sweet time.
But now, even more so than the two previous nights, he was relaxed, wide open to her and looking smug and satisfied. It made her feel sexy, feminine, triumphant. She’d put that look on his face.
They were so relaxed, breathing against one another, boneless, that neither moved. Reese rested her head alongside his, wrapping her hands around his neck, rubbing her lips against his rough chin.
He was still inside her, and if she had more energy she didn’t think it would take much to arouse her all over again. His hands still held below the small of her back, a protective gesture to keep her from pitching to the floor.
Then her stomach growled, shattering the comfortable silence of the room. Knight laughed, a deep low chuckle.
Reese sat up. “It’s time for my nine o’clock feeding.”
Knight shifted, pulling out of her. With a sigh, Reese let go of him and lay on the bed next to him, curling up on her side.
“You’re not serious, are you?” Knight pulled off the condom and stood up.
She watched him walk to the bathroom, enjoying the view of his fine behind, feeling the inexplicable urge to land her hand on it with a resounding smack.
Geez, she was turning possessive.
“Yes, I’m serious. I think I’ll order more chicken wings. Want some?”
Scooping his briefs off the floor, he said, “So you’re ready to call 911 about my knee, but you’ll kill me with chicken wings?”
He had a point. “So order a salad or something.”
The bathroom door slammed shut on a grunt.
Reese flopped back onto the bed, staring at the white speckled ceiling trying to remember exactly why she was in Chicago in the first place. Three days ago she had stepped onto a plane, ticked off that she’d drawn the short straw and the lousy assignment yet again.
Thanking the Fates that Knight’s witness had put the documents in the wrong rental car, she did a quick assessment of her life back in New York.
Crappy job. Lousy apartment. Zero sex life.
Yet here, for the last seventy-two hours she had been chasing a major story, eating room service, and having hands-down the best sex of her entire existence on earth. Going home right now seemed about as fun as doing her taxes.
That wasn’t fun. This was fun.
The decision wasn’t all that hard to make. By the time Knight reemerged, wearing his briefs and running his fingers through his hair, she had formulated a plan.
Sitting up, she reached for her pajama pants, forgoing the panties. “So do you want a salad?”
His sigh was heartfelt. “Okay.”
Not seeing her tank top, she headed for the phone without it. “Don’t sound so enthusiastic about it.”
Knight stopped dragging his jeans on to stare at her. “Would you get excited about rabbit food? I don’t see you ordering a big old bowl of water and roughage. ”
With good reason. Still, she took pity on the guy. It must really suck to suffer every time you ate something that tasted good.
“You want me to eat a salad, too? I can eat a salad.” As long as it was followed by a slab of cheesecake.
“You’re not going to eat a salad.”
“Yes, I am.” Every last crouton.
“Bullshit.”
Picking up the phone, Reese dialed room service. “Yes, I’d like two house salads with ranch dressing and a piece of cheesecake.” Then she panicked. After all that lettuce, she was going to need something to purge it from her system. “And two Bud Lights and a slice of carrot cake. Thank you.”
Knight was smirking. “Couldn’t do it, could you?”
“I can’t help it. The only thing green I ever ate growing up was Jell-O.”
He shook his head. “And I can’t believe you just ordered room service topless.”
She glanced down at her bare breasts. “It’s not like he could see me. And you’re topless, too.”
“That’s a little different, Reese.” He climbed onto the bed, stalking towards her, on his knees like a lion towards his prey. “Not that I mind. Trust me, I do not mind.”
Before he could grab, kiss her, and touch her bare breasts like she was hoping, he stopped short and ran a finger along her hipbone.
“You’re bruised. Did I do that?” He looked both mortified and pleased all at once.
Reese glanced at the purple splotches dotting her left hip right above her pants.
Just the sight of them reminded her of his rough hands holding on, squeezing, pressing hard as he thrust into her over and over again.
Feeling her face flush with heat and desire, she licked her bottom lip, her nipples jutting forward.
“It’s okay. They match the scratch marks I gave you on your upper back.”
His expression shifted to speculation. “I have scratches on my back?”
Yep. She’d seen them when he walked into the bathroom. “Oh, yeah.”
He grinned. “You’re lethal with those hands, aren’t you?”
Waving them at him, she said, “You know it. You better watch yourself.”
“You don’t scare me.” Knight reached forward and gave a loud smacking kiss on each of her hands.
Then she did it again, the girl thing she had thought was eradicated from her personality forever. She giggled. Yikes.
“I can’t spend the night, Reese.”
Even as disappointment surged through her, she knew it was for the best. She had a busy day tomorrow, all in accordance with her brilliant plan devised five minutes ago.
It was hard to manage a shrug, but she pulled it off. “That’s fine. I’ve got to get up early tomorrow anyway.”
Still on his knees, he searched her face. “That’s why I have to go. I have a really important meeting in the morning. It will help move this case forward and I want to be well rested. If I stay, I sure in the hell won’t be sleeping. ”
“I understand.” Snaking down his chest, she covered his bulge with her hand. “Want to tell me what the meeting’s about?”
“Nice try, Woodward and Bernstein.” He sat up. “But I’d like to come over after work tomorrow if I could. If you want me to. If you’re still here in Chicago.”
Wouldn’t he be surprised when he found out she was here indefinitely?
“Yeah, I’ll be here, but why don’t we go out somewhere? I’m getting a little sick of the walls in this hotel room.”
That grin he was giving her made her wonder why in the hell she hadn’t put a shirt on. He looked like sin on a spoon, and her breasts were dying to be touched.
“Then tomorrow night you can lie on your back while I fuck you, and look at the ceiling instead of the walls.”
He couldn’t have shocked her more if he had stood up and performed Riverdance naked.
“Knight!” He was such an ethical, by-the-book kind of guy, but when it came to sex, Reese was discovering he liked it rough and raw.
That worked for her.
“I should cancel your salad after that remark.”
“Oh, hurt me, baby,” he said sarcastically.
There was a knock on the door. Knight stood up and tossed her his T-shirt lying on the dresser. “Put that on and get under the covers or something. I don’t want the room service guy checking you out.”
Even though it was a little high-handed, Reese found herself obeying, smelling the scent of him on the shirt as it passed over her nostrils. She was snuggling under the covers, propping herself up with three pillows when the same deliveryman as two nights before brought their food in.
He nodded to her with a grin.
Five minutes later, Knight was on the bed next to her, sprawled out on top of the bedspread eating his salad drowned in dressing while they watched an action movie.
The plot, which mostly involved grinning men and explosives, wasn’t hard to follow and Reese was enjoying the lazy relaxed atmosphere between her and Knight.
Reese ate several pieces of her lettuce. Even more went into her balled up paper napkin until it looked like an origami interpretation of the surface of the moon. Round and full of craters.
Knight didn’t notice.
Flicking her finger over a crouton, she picked it up and pouched it in her cheek squirrel-style. Maybe it would be more exciting if she sucked on it instead of biting it. A second later it was soggy and gross and she hid it in her napkin with the growing compost pile already there.
“Do you need my napkin?” Knight asked, startling her into dropping her fork.
“Huh? Uh, no thanks.”
“Because yours looks about to burst from all that lettuce you’ve stuffed in there. ”
She grimaced. “How did you do that? You weren’t even looking at me. How could you know I was hiding lettuce in my napkin?”
“Nothing gets by a Fed. We’re trained to notice everything.” He bit a cherry tomato.
“Well, do you notice me getting annoyed with you?”
Abandoning pretense, she tossed the salad on the nightstand and reached for the Bud Light and the cheesecake.
“I notice you like me more than you want to.”
“Pff.” Her fork dipped into the cheesecake. This was a much better use for a utensil than stabbing a broccoli floret.
If Knight wanted her to gush about her feelings, he’d picked the wrong girl.
“You going to save any of that cheesecake for me?”
Was he nuts? Reese attacked the back end, wanting more of the graham cracker crust. “You can have the carrot cake.”
Maybe. If he was quick.
“Actually, I should probably go in a minute.”
His hands were in her hair, brushing and smoothing along the strands, tucking behind her ear.
It was such a simple gesture, but so intimate, that she balked. This was not what she was here for, and there was no such thing as a happily ever after.
What she wanted was a well-paying prestigious journalism career and a chance to see the world outside of Brooklyn. Not maternity stretch pants, a mortgage, and a husband who could be killed any day on the job.
Not that Knight was leaping that far ahead. But the more they were together, the softer the look in his eyes, and it scared the hell out of her.
Because sometimes, for a split second, in the back of her sex-fried mind, she didn’t think it seemed all that bad. Satisfying, even.
God help her.