Chapter Twenty-Three
RAVEN
SKIN TO skin. Heart to heart. Cheek to chest.
That’s how I wake up the next morning. My arm and leg draped over Knox’s sleeping form. I’ve never found myself practically fused to another person the morning after sex. I’m usually as far away from their sweat-encrusted body as possible. But here I am, snuggling further into the feeling.
Until my stomach rumbles at me.
Slowly peeling myself away from Knox, I slip out from beneath the bedcovers.
I’m instantly cold despite the general warmth, and I reach in the semi-dark for my glasses, some pants, and a top, in that order.
I already know there isn’t much to eat in the fridge.
Back home in LA, I’m in the habit of shopping and cooking for one.
But I’ve been so busy since my temporary relocation back to Colorado that I’ve been ordering out for most meals for weeks.
All I have in there right now are condiments for sandwiches and two-day-old takeout.
As I’m slipping out of the apartment, I text him to let him know I’ll be back soon.
If he wakes up before I return, I don’t want him to wonder if I will be long.
I look up at the askew 3 on the front door.
I’ve reached out to the building manager about getting it screwed back in properly, but beyond an acknowledgment email, I haven’t heard anything else.
I know there is a small toolbox in the apartment’s closet.
Maybe I’ll pull it out when I have a little free time and fix it myself.
Ha. Free time.
As I step out of the building, I’m immediately greeted by the sound of lawn equipment at work.
The smell of fresh cut grass follows me down the sidewalk, laced with the scent of various florals.
It’s too thick a smell to pick out any individual flowers, but it’s lovely all the same.
I pass by Knox’s motorcycle, the colors catching the morning light.
The grocery store I usually patronize hasn’t opened yet, but I already see a few customers at the coffee shop’s outdoor seating.
The little ting of the bell sounds as I enter Dark Heart Coffee.
I already know what I like, but as I stand in line, I realize I don’t know what Knox prefers. I’ve heard him talk about coffee enough to know he drinks it just about as often as I do, but beyond that I haven’t got a clue.
“Morning, Sal. The usual for me, large of course,” I say to the familiar barista as I approach the counter. “But could I also get a vanilla latte, a cold brew, and an Americano? Large for all of them as well.”
“Late night or early morning?” Sal asks, typing my order into the system.
I shrug because the answer is both. It’s been far too long since I had a night like last night.
An amazing first date ending in brain-shattering sex is not how I thought yesterday would go.
Nor did I anticipate Knox waking me up sometime around two in the morning, somehow harder than the first time and ready to go again.
My pussy involuntarily clenches, and I feel how sore I actually am.
He’s close to the biggest man I’ve ever been with, but there’s more.
I was not expecting the wicked curve of his cock.
He was hitting parts of my body I didn’t even know were reachable.
“Early morning,” I settle on and add, “But they aren’t all for me.”
“Okay, good.” Sal smiles. “Because all that caffeine would make your heart explode.”
“My heart is safe from caffeine-related explosions,” I jest. “While I’m thinking about it, can I also get one blueberry muffin, a strawberry scone, one croissant, and a cheese Danish? All to go, please.”
“Of course.” Sal smiles, ringing me up. The total flashes up, and I pull out my card, tapping it against the reader. “Do you want those pastries warmed up?”
“Yes, that would be great. Thank you, Sal,” I say, stepping aside so the next customer can order.
I pull my phone out from my back pocket when it bleeps at me, indicating a text.
Knox: Morning sweetheart.
My smile is instantaneous and embarrassingly large.
Me: WOW. I’m impressed. Didn’t realize you wake before 10am unless contractually obligated ;)
I only wait a few breaths before a text comes in with an accompanying photo.
Knox: This had other plans.
I actually gasp because I’m getting the first real look at the size of him. I’m surprised at his boldness to send me a picture, but maybe I shouldn’t be. I stare at the picture. Like stare stare.
Knox is thick and long, with a wide vein running down the center of his cock.
The close-up nature of the picture lets me see smaller veins branching from the larger one, like offshoots of a raging river.
The skin of his cock is red, like every ounce of blood is currently being pumped to that extremity alone.
There is a gentle but noticeable upward curve to his member.
Damn, no wonder I’m walking a little sideways.
“Stop drooling, you idiot,” I say to myself under my breath. But I’m still staring. Long enough for him to send another text.
Knox: Where ru?
Me: Grabbing us some breakfast. Back soon, promise.
Knox: Mind if I take a quick shower?
Me: Towels in the hallway closet.
I glance up at the counter to see where they are in my order. Two down, two to go.
“Something good must be happening. I’ve never seen you look so pleased.”
“What?” I say, turning towards the male voice.
“I was saying that there must be something good happening on your phone. I’ve never seen you look so happy.”
I look the stranger up and down, trying to place him. He’s wearing a red tracksuit, white shoes, and a white hat, making him look like a candy cane.
“I’m sorry, do we know each other?”
His features have a vague familiarity to me, but I cannot fully place him.
“No, sorry. Name’s Jesse. I’m usually sitting over there in that corner most mornings, trying to thump out a screenplay.” He gestures over his shoulder to a laptop and a coffee mug.
“Right.”
“I’ve noticed you coming in the last few weeks. You’re an early riser, like me. You’re usually one of the first people in when they open at 6. Like me.”
“Yep,” I say noncommittally.
“In a little later than usual today, uh?” he observes.
“Busy work life,” I say curtly, not interested in engaging but not fully committed to being rude. I take a step towards the counter and see my last drink order is coming up.
“Yeah, what do you do?” he asks, seemingly undeterred.
“Mobile venue acquisitions manager.”
“Oh…that sounds…”
“Boring, I know,” I say. “But it pays the bills.”
Another employee appears from the kitchen with a large paper bag.
“Order for Raven,” he calls.
“Right here,” I step forward, taking my items. As I turn, I see Jesse is still standing there, looking like he has more to say. “Gotta go, busy, busy,” I say before he can open his mouth again.
I’m practically flying out the front door, nearly running into a sleepy-looking couple as they attempt to enter.
The first man grabs his husband by the elbow and pulls him out of the way as the door flings open.
I mouth sorry to them both but don’t slow my pace.
I’m back in front of my apartment in half the time it took me to walk to the coffee shop.
The sound of the shower is faint but noticeable as I step back into my flat, so I place the breakfast items on the counter and head down the hallway.
“Hey Knox,” I say loudly, giving the door a few quick raps. “I’m back.”
“Come in. I can’t really hear you,” he says loudly.
I crack the door open, the steam attacking my glasses with vigor. Pulling them off, I wipe them on my shirt.
“I was just saying that I’m back.”
“Good morning, sweetheart,” he replies. I felt buzzed reading him call me that. Hearing him say it makes me feel giddy. “Hope you don’t mind, I’m using some of your body wash.”
“Not at all. I grabbed us some breakfast if you’re hungry. Coffee and pastries.”
He pulls back the shower curtain so I can see his face. Soap drips from his hair all the way down across his shoulders. I can’t see much more of him beyond that.
“Sounds great. Want to come join me before we eat? The water is nice and warm.”
His expression is mischievous and extremely tempting.
I scoff. “With this hair? Nice try.” I flip my braids over my shoulder for emphasis.
When Knox joins me in the kitchen, he’s still dripping wet, the towel wrapped tightly around his waist. The line of dark hair on his chest and stomach draws my eyes downward and I take a long look at his form.
I fancy myself the consummate professional, so despite our initial meeting, I’ve done everything in my power to view him as an employee first and foremost. Anytime I’ve caught myself trying to ogle him, I have busied myself with some other task.
That’s basically impossible to do at this moment.
Knox is fit and not overly muscular, the kind of build that suggests consistency, not outright gym rat-like obsession.
Narrower shoulders but defined arms and strong legs give him an air of easy athleticism.
The light catches the water droplets in his full beard and short, damp hair, highlighting the few grays he has.
He looks perfectly comfortable in his own skin, strong and rugged, his tattoos on full display.
In my haste this morning, I didn’t bother with underwear, but the rest of my clothing makes a good faith effort to spontaneously combust as I watch him move around the space.
His left arm is covered in a half-sleeve, the theme of the music obvious, even from a distance.
Music notes, staff lines, and instruments make up the tattoo.
His right arm has a large tattoo running down three-quarters of it, snaking up over his shoulder and across a small part of his chest. The bright yellows and deep browns of the sunflower motif look more dynamic, indicating it’s a newer tattoo.
“I felt like a fancy m’fer with these silk pillow cases,” Knox says, leaning over to kiss me.
I welcome it, but keep my lips pressed together, realizing I need to brush my teeth.
“It’s good for the hair and the skin,” I say, opening the brown bag and fully releasing the smell of the pastries.
We’re bombarded with the smell of browning sugars, warm fruit and allspice. It reminds me of Saturday mornings when I still lived with my parents. Dad really got into baking as I entered middle school, and every weekend was filled with taste testing his new recipes.
“I wasn’t sure how you like your coffee, so I got you a few options,” I point to the cardboard drink carrier.
Knox looks at me sideways, his lopsided grin adorable, “Is that a setup for a joke?”
“No, should it be?”
He shrugs, “Bright, bold, complex…creamy. Those words can describe a lot of different things. Coffee is only one of them.”
Knox grabs the closest cup to him and takes a long sip, his gaze never leaving mine.
Oh my god, this man looks like he wants to eat me alive.
Placing the cup back down, Knox leans over me, taking up my whole visual space and attacking my other senses.
The smell of my body wash has changed on his skin, the rosewater taking on a decidedly more earthy tone.
The hair of his beard tickles my skin as his lips press into mine, his tongue running across the seam of my lips. My lips part automatically, and he draws me into his body without hesitation, his hardness obvious through the fabric of the towel.
“We should eat,” I say, my words breathy.
“That’s what I’m trying to do.”
I can’t help but giggle. “I’m serious.”
“Me too,” he insists, squeezing my ass firmly.
Leaning back enough to break the kiss, I meet his eyes.
“I have to be at the venue in an hour, and I still need to shower.”
“Should have showered with me,” he says, running the tip of his nose against my neck. The action sends a spasm down my spine. I almost let the hind brain take over, but I’m again reminded of the time when my alarm tells me my usual bus will be at the stop in ten minutes.
“Like any real cleaning would have happened in there,” I tease.
“Mmm…true. I’d still have you bent over taking every inch of me like the good girl I know that you are if you had joined me.”
This man’s mouth is about to get me in trouble if I’m not careful.
“You eat. I shower,” I say firmly, at last breaking our embrace.
My body protests, wanting to stay pressed against him, but I force my feet to carry me down the hallway and into the bedroom first to grab some clothes before I head into the bathroom.
I ignore the ache between my legs, needing to keep my shower as short as possible.
Damn, I really lost track of time this morning.
I run through the rest of my morning routine as quickly as possible, doing my makeup and getting dressed in record time.
I check my phone as I head back down the hallway to the main living spaces. My second bus will be at the stop in twenty minutes. If I miss that one, I’ll be late.
When I come back into the space, I see that Knox has put his clothes back on from last night. He’s by the window, gazing out onto the landscape, looking completely devastating standing there in all black, sipping from one of the drinks.
“You look beautiful, Venny.”
“Thanks.” I almost unconsciously run my hands over my clothes.
“I cut everything in half. I didn’t know which one you would prefer.”
I see what he’s speaking about. On a plate on the counter, I see that every pastry I brought back has been neatly cut in half.
“No preferences. I didn’t get this big ass cause I’m a picky eater,” I smile, giving my left cheek a slap.
“I like your big ass. Oh shit,” he says suddenly, “Can I say big ass?”
“I think you just did.”
We both laugh, taking a seat at the bar stools.
“Can’t stay long to eat,” I say, putting the first bite of blueberry muffin in my mouth. I chew and swallow quickly so I can continue, “I don’t want to miss my bus.”
“Let me take you in. Enjoy your breakfast, relax for a little while longer.”
I shake my head at the suggestion, quickly saying, “No.”
Too soon. Not yet.
I don’t even know what this is between us yet.
A one-night stand? A situationship while I’m in town?
The real thing? If anyone saw us coming to the venue together, that would raise questions or, worse, spur rumors.
I wouldn’t have any answers for the inevitable questions, and that fact makes me nervous.
Knox looks like he wants to say more, but after a moment, he nods in acknowledgment. Leaning forward in his seat, he pulls me in for another kiss. His lips on mine calm my racing thoughts into something more manageable.
“Okay, sweetheart,” he says. “Just us?”
I breathe a little deeper, relieved he seems to read all the nervousness in my body that I can’t quite articulate.
“Just until…we figure out what this is.”
His smile is gentle and filled with unspoken thoughts.
“All right then, eat up. Don’t want you to be late. I don’t want to be accused of being a bad influence on you.”