Chapter 10
Taylor
Monday morning, I’m out of bed by six-thirty. Knox didn’t text the rest of the weekend, and I didn’t force myself on him, but I have to admit, his silence has only made his presence louder in my mind.
I’m used to getting what I want, and for some inexplicable reason, I want Knox Bennett…at least once. I’ve completely deluded myself into thinking it could be good for us both. Satisfying his curiosity while helping me heal kind of makes it sound like a win-win.
Throwing on another pair of spandex shorts, I grab a crop top and make my way to my parents’ basement, where the home gym is set up. I have a fuck-ton of energy to burn before Knox and his guys get here, or I’ll do something stupid.
Like believe the lies I’m telling myself.
I grab a set of dumbbells and burn my chest and shoulders with about a thousand reps each of flies and bench. Next, I move on to abs, and only when I physically cannot do one more sit-up do I finally get on the treadmill.
Earbuds in, I pick a comfortable pace and let myself zone out.
I’m so zoned out that I completely lose track of time. My music fades as a text alert comes through, and I slow my speed to check my phone.
Knox
We’re here. No one answered the door. Just wanted you to know. Sorry if we wake you.
My heart rate is suddenly much higher now than it was throughout my entire workout. I grab my water and sprint up the stairs, thirstier for a glimpse of Knox than I am for the liquid in my bottle.
Through the windows in the kitchen, I see Phil and Javier out back, but no sign of my brooding contractor, so I make my way to the front of the house.
Wrenching the front door open, I spot him at the back of his truck. I stand totally still and watch him for a second as he digs around for something. The way his arms flex against the sleeves of his blue T-shirt has me squeezing my thighs together to relieve the ache in my balls.
I only last fifteen seconds before I’m descending the porch stairs, walking toward him.
He notices me right as I’m wiping a drop of sweat from my eye. With my other eye still open, I see his jaw clench as he tries—and fails—not to rake his gaze over my body.
“Morning,” I say cheerily. “Sorry I missed the doorbell. I was downstairs getting a run in.”
“It’s fine,” he sighs. “The guys are out back already. I’m waiting on the concrete truck. Should be here any minute.”
He averts his gaze and goes back to whatever he’s messing with.
I take a step closer.
“How was your weekend?” I ask, propping a hip against his truck.
“Fine,” he grumbles.
“That’s all I get?” I ask playfully, but it’s clear he’s not in the mood, making me wonder what the hell happened between his last text and this moment.
Before he can answer, we turn to look down the road as a giant concrete truck makes the tight corner and rumbles toward my parents’ house.
It comes to a stop in the street, far too large to fit in the driveway, and three guys hop out of the cab.
One look at the driver and I know exactly how this is going to go. Won’t be my first rodeo, although it sucks that it’s going to happen in front of Knox.
“Whoa, get a load of this guy,” the driver says, slamming his door shut and throwing a thumb in my direction. “You’re a little late. The drag festival was last month.”
Ignorant prick. I’m good, but I’m not nearly good enough to do drag makeup. Those fuckers are artists. Besides, I’m not even wearing makeup right now. Get your assumed insults right, dickwad.
Before I can open my mouth to put him in his place, Knox beats me to it.
“What did you just say?” he growls…actually growls…like his vocal cords vibrate with fury in his throat, making him sound like an animal.
Annnnnd now my dick is getting hard.
The driver laughs and waves a hand toward me. “I just mean his outfit. I think my girlfriend wore that same shit in high school.” He steps to the side, making a show of looking behind me. “You’ve got the better ass, though.”
“You have ten seconds to get back in your truck and get the fuck out of here before I start throwing punches,” Knox says, moving to step slightly in front of me, placing himself between me and the driver.
I don’t need the protection because I could make this guy lose consciousness in less than those same ten seconds, but it’s a little swoony watching Knox get all possessive. Although at some point, I’ll have to set the record straight.
“The hell?” the driver says. “We just showed up.”
“And now you can leave,” Knox says, looking like he’d honestly enjoy clocking this dude in the face.
“I got a job to do, and I don’t get paid if it don’t get done, so we ain’t goin’ anywhere until this concrete gets poured,” the man says, his terrible grammar making it slightly hard to keep up.
“Should’ve thought about that before you disrespected the homeowner, idiot,” Knox fires back.
“You serious? Dude’s out here in fucking chick shorts and a cropped-top with his ass and nuts hanging out and you’re pissed because I happened to notice?”
“I’m pissed because you’re judging him, and you don’t know a damn thing about him. Now get the fuck out of here. I’ve got to go call your boss and explain why he just lost this fifty-six-hundred-dollar job.”
The driver turns to me and holds his hands up. “Look, man, I’m sorry. Okay? We good?”
I’m willing to let it go. Like I said, not my first rodeo, but Knox isn’t having it. He snaps his fingers in the guy’s face to regain his attention.
“No, we’re not good. Now get the fuck out of here and don’t make me tell you again.”
We watch all three guys argue as they climb back in the truck. The other two are pissed because they won’t get paid now, either. As the truck rumbles away down the street, Knox turns to me.
“I’m sorry you had to hear that.”
I let out a genuine laugh. “Knox, I’ve been dealing with that shit my whole life. If I lost my temper every time someone said something like that, I wouldn’t be able to go to work, the gym, or even the grocery store most days.”
“The fuck is wrong with people?” he mutters more to himself than to me.
I turn into him, letting my right arm graze his left. “People just lash out at things they don’t understand. It’s far easier to cast the stone than to examine why it’s being thrown in the first place. Trust me, his words say way more about him than they do about me.”
Knox turns his head to me, his eyes lazily drifting over my sweaty hair, down to my lips, and over my top, but his gaze becomes laser-focused when he gets to my bare stomach.
“See something you like?” I tease softly, using words from the first night we met, hoping to improve his sour mood.
His desire is obvious in the way his pupils are dilated and his nostrils flare with untamed lust. One way or another, I’ll help him figure this out because fuck do I want him use me for his pleasure.
Suddenly, and quite unexpectedly, Knox cages me in against the side of his truck, careful to keep our bodies from actually touching…much to my disappointment.
“You’re doing this on purpose,” he says through clenched teeth.
“Says the man wearing the uniform of every porn star playing a construction worker.”
He looks down at his outfit, and his cheeks redden. “Considering I am a construction worker, my attire is appropriate.”
“That would be a fun role play,” I muse, getting drunk off being this close to him.
“We’re not role-playing anything,” he snarls, bringing his face closer to mine.
“You say that now, but I bet I can change your mind,” I taunt again, trying to goad him with a bet. He seems like a betting man.
A summer storm cloud passes overhead, and it matches the one in his eyes.
“And then what?” he snarls, his tone low and menacing.
“You’ll bring me to my knees as I put you on yours?
This is a game to you, isn’t it? Fuck with the old guy because you’re bored.
Well, it isn’t going to work, Taylor.” He holds his fist up in front of my face and raises his fingers one at a time for each point he makes.
“I don’t fuck guys. I don’t fuck clients. And I don’t fuck kids.”
There’s that goddamn word again.
I know twenty-four is young, but I’m not a child. I’ve also dealt with more bullshit in my few years on this earth than most people face in their lifetime.
I push the last finger he raised back into his palm.
“The first point is debatable because everyone wants to fuck me.” I push the next finger down, grinding out the words.
“The second point isn’t a point at all because my parents are your clients, not me.
” I push the final finger down and cover his closed fist with my palm.
“And your third point is flat-out useless because I’m not a fucking kid. ”
Now I have something to prove.
My mindset shifts to battle mode because all this little tantrum of Knox’s is proving is how much he wants to reach out and take this. The longer I spend in his presence, the more I can tell he wants to try this. That one kiss got him hooked.
You can’t hide true lust and desire.
It seeps from your pores, refusing to be contained when you want something badly enough. Your thoughts are on the person, and you create excuses to see them, be near them, touch them.
Like now. Knox still has one hand braced on his truck, pinning me in place.
He wants me badly. He just doesn’t want to want me…and using my age as a cop-out just won’t fly with me.
I cock my head to the side, studying him. “Tell me what you aren’t sure about,” I command, thinking back to his text. I ache to reach out and touch him, but I don’t do it just yet.
“You remind me of my group of asshole friends, always bringing shit back up. Let it go. I shouldn’t have said anything. I was half asleep.”
Of course, I don’t let it go. In fact, I do the opposite and push a little harder.
“That’s when we tend to be the most honest. Well, that and when we’re drunk. Admit it. You’re attracted to me,” I point out, trying to get him to make an admission of his own even if he keeps it to himself.
“I’m…not,” he says weakly. “But I’m not homophobic, either. Two of my best friends are with guys,” he explains. He says it so quickly, I get the feeling he’s used this rationale before.
“But you’re not in to guys,” I clarify.
“Right.”
“You sure about that?” I taunt, inching slightly closer. Knox’s eyes drop to my lips again before a scowl paints his features.
“Pretty damn. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.”
I hold my hands up as a way of showing him I’m not keeping him here. I can tell when he grinds his molars together because it makes his square jaw flex, and I want to nip my way along it with my teeth.
He hesitates, still not taking a step back. As a small test, I run my thumbs along the inside of the waistband on my shorts as if I were adjusting them, and I can’t help my smile when Knox’s eyes follow the movement and he swallows audibly.
I can already taste my victory.