Chapter 9
CHAPTER NINE
GAGE
“It’s your call, Goodman.”
“Since when?” I wanted to ask, but I was pretty sure I knew.
Knox hated change and was deeply suspicious of things that made his life easier and better.
The things he fought the hardest—becoming friends with me, or updating a billing procedure at the orchard, or eating triangular sandwich halves—were sometimes the things he wanted most, but his brain needed to consider the matter slowly.
Deliberately. Like a computer running a background operation.
He had to run the numbers.
He had to analyze the risk.
But then, once he actually changed his mind—which sometimes took minutes, and sometimes days or weeks, and sometimes didn’t happen at all—Knox had zero ego about admitting that he’d been wrong.
He’d leave the office at night refusing to acknowledge that I had a point, then come into the office the next morning talking about the new billing procedure while eating a triangular sandwich and wearing a “Gage is my BFF” T-shirt (sadly, not literally).
It was unpredictable.
It was infuriating.
It was fascinating. And thrilling.
And it was so fucking adorable, it made me want to kiss the man senseless… which was exactly what I did the second we got into the Lyft.
And again against the rough brick exterior of the hotel.
Then again in the elevator, and at various points in the long corridor from the elevator to my hotel room.
I didn’t need to understand how his brain worked to appreciate it.
He’d chosen this. He’d picked me. His hands were in my hair, holding my head at just the right angle while he kissed me against the hotel room door and his erection jutted against my hip.
That was as much as I needed to know.
“What do you want?” I demanded breathlessly when we got inside. “Because I have a list of fantasies, but I’m willing to hit all the highlights of your fantasy list, too, obviously.”
“Generous of you.” He did that thing with his teeth on my neck that made my eyes roll back in my head. “But I don’t have a list. We’ll go with yours.”
“Wait, really?” I pulled back just slightly. “So you haven’t been thinking about—?”
He snorted. “Fuck, of course I have. But if I’d let myself get far enough to make a list, this would have happened a long time ago.” He grasped my hips and let his thumbs coast over the front of my pants mere inches from where I wanted them. “I wouldn’t have been able to hold back.”
I personally didn’t see the downside of him giving in a long time ago, but I was mature enough not to say I told you so. And those thumbs rubbing slow semicircles were hella distracting.
“M’kay,” I said breathlessly. “I want you to fuck me. Me on top. No, wait, you on top first. And also blow jobs. But… Okay, wait, no. I maybe didn’t order the list.”
Knox took my earlobe in his mouth and sucked lightly. “Inefficient,” he teased in a hot whisper.
“Shut it. Okay, blow jobs first, then… shit. Then I want you to fuck me. Yeah?”
He made a humming noise against the tendon in my neck that sounded like agreement, and I melted against him.
“God, I love a man who’s willing to take direction.”
He pulled back, and the look he gave me made my insides boil. “I didn’t say that, Goodman.”
When I blinked at him, all wide-eyed, he flashed me a wicked grin and caught my lower lip between his teeth. “Go get supplies. Because once we get started, I am not going to want to stop.”
Fuuuuck.
It figured the man would be bossy in bed considering how many thoughts and opinions he had about everything else. Fortunately, I was okay with this.
In fact, as I upended my toiletry bag with shaking hands to get at the supplies I’d stashed there, I decided there were definite compensations to fucking a man with good planning skills.
After a quick, unsuccessful glance in the bathroom mirror to make sure I didn’t look like a crazy person—I did, I definitely did, so I had to hope that slightly crazed look turned him on—I grabbed the condoms and lube and raced back to the bed in time to see Knox kicking off his shoes and peeling off his socks.
Why did that turn me on so much? I wasn’t a foot fetishist. Or maybe I was. Could I have suddenly become a foot fetishist because of Knox Sunday?
“Get over here,” he grumbled. “On the bed. Shoes off.”
In my haste to comply, I accidentally shot one of my shoes at the hotel room door with a loud thud while the other tumbled into the bathroom.
When Knox’s low laugh hit my ears, I didn’t even care.
Part of me felt like he was going to change his mind at any minute, put his hands on his hips, and lecture me about being too old for me or too responsible to allow this breach in proper coworker behavior.
“Clothes off,” I said breathlessly, reaching for the buttons on my shirt. “Nakedness. Nakedness is happening in here. Get naked. That’s on my list.”
Knox stopped his own strip show to lift an eyebrow at me. “I don’t understand, Goodman. You want me to get dressed? Is that what you’re saying? Put on more clothes?”
Was he actually trying to joke? How could he possibly be so calm right now?
I stopped and glared at him. “Ha, ha. Not funny. Strip.”
He grinned, and God he was so fucking sexy.
My stomach swirled with a nervous kind of excitement, the way it did when I visited one of those parking lot fairs they used to set up over in Sarasota, where you couldn’t be sure if the rides were safe or not.
When you took your seat, you were either in for some fun or horrible, fatal injuries.
Either way, it was going to be a wild ride.
My hands fumbled frantically at my buttons, but Knox stepped over and grabbed them firmly in his grip. “Stop.”
I looked up at him. “I don’t want to. That… that’s the exact opposite of what I want. I’ve been waiting so long. Please don’t make me stop.” My pleas came out in a whisper, as if I was afraid to even acknowledge my biggest fear coming true.
Knox’s hands released mine so they could slide into the sides of my hair and tilt my face to his. “I need you to take a breath, baby. Calm down.”
Oh my fucking God. If he wanted me calm, he could not throw out the casual babies. But I couldn’t make my lips form words to say that.
“I want you, too,” Knox continued. “This is happening. Don’t rush it. I want to take my time with you, alright?” He leaned in and brushed his lips lightly across my cheek before they landed against the shell of my ear. “Savor you. Taste every inch of you.”
“Oh God,” I breathed. “Yeah. Yes. That’s better than my naked-now plan.”
I felt his smile in the tightening of his cheek, but his voice was firm when he instructed, “Get on the bed.”
“Mmhm.” It was hard to get on the bed when I was a puddle of sticky syrup on the floor, but somehow, I made it. I crawled to the center to lie like a starfish on the smooth sheets. Breathe, I reminded myself.
Knox watched me with laser eyes as he continued slowly undressing himself. My chest heaved up and down with anticipation, and my dick throbbed in my pants. I’d never wanted anything more than this man. In fact, I couldn’t imagine ever wanting anything as much as Knox Sunday.
I was so fucked.
“Take off your clothes, Goodman.”
My eyes slid closed as the sound of my name on his tongue did things to my dick. How could someone make my last name sound dirty like that? I hadn’t even told him the dirty talk part of my list, but somehow, he’d known anyway.
I pulled my shirt slowly up my stomach, feeling the soft stroke of my own fingers across the bare skin of my abs.
The sound of Knox’s sharp indrawn breath made me blink my eyes open again. Heat shot between us, and I closed my eyes and groaned as I continued pulling my shirt up my chest and over my head.
“You’re the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.” Knox’s voice was rough, and his words were unexpected. After all this time of teasing him, of watching him ignore me and act like he didn’t give a shit about me or my body, I was overwhelmed by his response to me.
“Why now?” I asked, unable to hold back. As soon as the question was out of my mouth, I regretted it. “I mean, no big. It’s fine. I’m not… that’s not… never mind. Let’s talk about other things. Dick things. As in, I’d like to see yours. Now, please. If it’s not too much trouble.”
My voice sounded shaky and unsure. I hated feeling this way. As if this mattered. As if his reaction to me mattered. I’d had sex with plenty of men. I was the king of casual sex. Emperor of hookups. This should have been no big deal.
So why was I wound up tighter than I’d ever been before? My body felt like one touch from Knox Sunday would set absolutely every fucking skin cell alight.
His eyes narrowed as he dropped his shirt on the ground. “Because I didn’t want anyone else at that party to have you.”
Oh. Oh fuck.
“Yeah. Okay. That’s a good explanation.” I pressed the heel of my palm on my cock and groaned again.
Knox’s eyes heated even more. “Hands off, Goodman.”
He knelt on the bed and reached for my wrist before pinning it above my head and looming over me. His wide shoulders and muscled chest made me feel like a little drool might accidentally escape my open mouth.
“Yes, sir,” I whispered, just to get a rise out of him.
Knox crushed my mouth with his, reaching for my other wrist and bringing it up high above my head.
Once he had both of my hands pinned together in his unrelenting grip, he brought his other hand down to stroke my cock between our bodies.
I arched up into him, begging him with my hips, my indrawn breath, and my uncontrollable whimpers.
I wanted him so badly, I was leaking.
Knox’s big hand fumbled for the button on my pants before yanking the zipper down and thrusting his hand inside.
“Oh fuck. Knox, fuck.” I tried to control my breathing, but his bossy, commanding schtick was really doing it for me. Who knew?
Knox did.
“Mmhm. Just like that,” he murmured against my cheek. I didn’t even know what he meant, but I continued to arch up into him and beg him with my body.