Chapter 37
Knox
Of all the women I could’ve fallen for, it had to be my business partner’s daughter.
Francesca Camille Beaumont.
Cami.
Daughter of New York’s most connected, most influential businessman. Oliver Beaumont.
And now, the one person I can’t stop thinking about is the last woman I ever should’ve touched.
Funny, considering Mont’s the one who unknowingly dared me to hook up with her, the bombshell next door, a “cure for get-over-a-bitch-itis.”
Fuck. Where were the signs I missed?
Brilliant me assumed the Frankie he always spoke about was a son.
Clearly, fate’s got a twisted sense of humor, a fat, isn’t-it-ironic middle finger aimed right at me.
Maybe I deserve it. Maybe I should’ve stayed the hell away from the start.
When Cami excused herself to the restroom earlier, Mont had leaned in, his tone deliberate and sincere.
“Frankie’s my world—all I have left since her mother passed away so many years ago,” he’d said, pride bleeding into every word.
“I’m happy she’s back home, happy she’s joined the family business.
She’s beautiful, I know that. I’m sure you’ve noticed too.
” His brows lifted. “And while I might’ve encouraged you to have a fling over the summer with that younger woman, who evidently ghosted you, I’m sure you understand my daughter is completely off-limits. ”
I’d managed a tight nod, maybe a forced smile, pretending his words didn’t feel like a slow blade twisting under my ribs. What was I supposed to say? Too late, Mont. I’ve already crossed every line you just drew. Explicitly.
This situation is beyond screwed.
My hand settles at the small of Cami’s back as we weave through the crowd, the low sweep of her backless dress revealing skin that feels like a live wire under my palm.
Her signature citrus perfume rises, sweet, addictive, sliding straight into my bloodstream.
It’s the same scent that’s haunted my shirts, my sheets, my dreams for days.
“Cami,” I bend closer, “are you feeling dizzy or faint?”
She shakes her head, steps never breaking stride. “This has nothing to do with POTS.” Her fingers skim my wrist as we pass a cluster of guests. “And before you ask, I have an appointment with the specialist next week.” She exhales. “I just really need to get out of here.”
“Understood.”
Laughter glitters across the ballroom, violin strings humming, champagne flutes clinking.
On the outside, I may look composed, cool-headed, nodding at the passing crowd, but inside, my heartbeat could outplay the tuxedoed orchestra.
Every few steps, Cami glances up at me, stormy-blue eyes gleaming, her beautiful lips a taut line, the silence between us loud enough to drown out the entire gala.
As we step out of the ballroom’s glow, Cami tips closer, whispering so close, it skates down my spine. “I lost the bubble phone, Knox. I wanted so badly to call you. Was headed to Vermont tomorrow to hopefully find you through your grandparents.”
“I know. But we can’t do this here.” I inch closer, keeping my tone low, even. “Too many eyes.”
We descend the marble steps in silence, city air cutting through the thread of ragtime music that fades behind us.
The valet stand glows underneath a red awning, sleek cars pulling up one after another. Then mine stops in front of us: a silver Aston Martin Vantage.
“Who even are you right now?” Cami tucks her sequined clutch under her arm, eyes darting between me and the car. “Where’s your Rover?”
I scoff.
Could that be an edge of disbelief in her tone?
As though she’s just met another version of me?
Well, I’ve just met another version of her, too.
Elegantly styled hair. A black strapless, curve-hugging dress.
That Saint Laurent under her arm, catching bright city lights.
The woman in Crystal Cove who stole my hoodies, kitten cuddles, and heart looks every bit the Manhattan heiress.
And God help me, she still feels like home.
Opening the passenger door, I dip in close, her body reacting before the words even land. “Get in the car, Bubble Girl.”
She doesn’t argue. Just exhales, shaky, and slips into the passenger seat, satin and skin whispering against black leather.
I shut the door, its click echoing through my chest like a gavel. By the time I hand the valet my claim ticket, he’s holding the keys, and I slip him a fifty.
“Good night, Mr. Ryder.”
Sliding behind the wheel, I adjust the cuff of my tux jacket, trying for calm that doesn’t exist.
Streetlights flash across the windshield, and I catch Cami’s reflection: bare shoulders, tense jaw, eyes fixed straight ahead. She looks composed. Perfect. Except for how her fingers twist the edge of her clutch like it’s the only thing keeping her composed.
Rain begins to fall as I pull away, the Aston growling while gala lights fade in my rearview mirror.
Cami’s perfume hits again, sparking memories of us in Crystal Cove.
She’s off-limits. Because the last thing I’d ever do is put her in a position where she’d have to choose between her father and me.
Try telling that to my cock. And the heart that still fucking beats for her.
Streaks of gold and red headlights glide across wet asphalt, cab horns fading into the buzz of traffic.
Neither of us speaks, our silence amplified by consistent, rhythmic sounds of wiper blades across the raindrop-coated windshield.
Cami sits angled toward the window, fingers still twisting her clutch in her lap.
I ache to reach for her hand like I always did when we drove anywhere this summer.
Instead, I grip the wheel tighter, every muscle in my arm wound tight enough to snap. Every turn of the tires pulls me closer to something I shouldn’t want but still do.
The Langley comes into view, standing like a majestic monument, all glass and stone, glowing against the rainy night.
Exhaling a breath, I pull up to the curb and shift into park.
Cami doesn’t move. “I’m not ready to go home,” she says, her quiet admission quivering in the space between us.
I keep my eyes fixed on the windshield because if I glance her way, I’ll fall apart. “Cami…we can’t.”
She turns toward me, and even without looking, I can feel her eyes on me. “I want to see Stripe and Shadow.”
The smart move is to say no, drop her off, drive away, and pretend this night never happened.
But every part of me that remembers her in my shirt, laughing in my kitchen, us making love under moonlight, urges me to give in.
“Please, Knox,” she says, soft and pleading. “I miss them. I miss…us.”
Jaw tight, I grip the wheel and floor the gas, her apartment building shrinking in the mirror behind us, my indie playlist drowning out every rational thought I’ve ever had.
By the time I pull into my building’s garage, the rain’s turned to a fine mist, the city still pulsing above us.
I park beside my Rover, cut the engine, and step out.
Cami hesitates for a beat before I circle around and open the passenger door, her heels clicking against concrete as she steps out.
Shoulders brushing, we walk toward the elevator in silence, and once inside, I hit ten.
Twin doors slide shut, trapping the scent of her perfume and the uneven rhythm of our breathing.
Electricity curls in the space between us, my heart a beating drum.
If her last name weren’t Beaumont, I’d already have her pinned to the elevator wall, my hands mapping every curve, her legs wrapped around me.
But, I stand here, fists clenched, pretending the desire to reach for her doesn’t feel suffocating.
When the elevator doors slide open, I lead us down the hall, my hand against the small of her back like a magnet.
When we reach door 1012, I stop. “Cami, this can’t go beyond—”
“I know.” Her eyes lift to mine, glossy and aching. “I just want to see my fur babies.”
One beep and a click, then the door eases open, dim light spilling out, the rhythmic patter of rain against tall glass.
Stripe and Shadow bolt from their cat tree the second they see their mom, tiny blurs of fur and sound. Stripe circles her ankles, mewing like he’s been abandoned for years. Shadow launches herself into Cami’s lap the moment she kneels, burying her face in the silk of her dress.
“Oh, I’ve missed you two so much.” She squeals, pressing kisses to their tiny heads. “Thought I lost you forever.”
It feels good seeing her like this again, the storm darkening her blue eyes finally softening under their tiny paws.
For a second, I close my eyes, let myself believe this could be normal. Her, the kittens, this apartment filled with something that feels like home.
But normal isn’t in the cards for us.
“They definitely missed you.” I set my keys on the catchall table by the door. “Shadow hasn’t been eating well.”
Maybe I should give them space, let them reunite in peace.
Yet, here I am, rooted like an idiot, watching her hair tumble forward, her dress catching the low light, the curve of her spine when she bends. It’s not desire that freezes me this time; it’s the knowing I’m still too far gone.
Fuck.
Raking a hand through my hair, I trek toward the window to distract myself with the city view. But her familiar coos wreck me a little more with every word.
God, help me. I should take her home. Be the man who honors her father’s boundaries. Yeah, right. That version of me died the second she said she missed us.
Cami joins me, our gazes fixed on the city spread out like a glittering ocean.
Behind us, Stripe bats at Shadow’s tail, their tiny chirps filling the quiet.
“Nice view.” She clears her throat. “What happened to the penthouse?”
“Still on the market,” I reply, eyes on her reflection in the glass.
She pivots, stepping between me and the window, her hand finding my chest, palm warm through the fabric. Even in those sky-high heels, she has to tilt her chin to look at me, city light spilling around her like it’s reaching, too.
“I guess fate says no for us in the real world. First, me losing the bubble phone, and now…” She exhales, shaking her head. “My dad being your business partner. We both know he won’t approve.”
I nod once. “Guess not.”
Tears slide down her cheeks, and I cup her face, my thumbs brushing them away. “Don’t cry.” I manage the words, but they tremble on the way out.
“Knox…this can’t be the end of us.” Her eyes explore mine, desperate, certain. “Not when you love me.” Her breath trembles. “And not when I love you.”
“You love me?” My breath stutters, just stops, before my heart slams back to life. I’ve wanted to hear those words for weeks, hell, maybe longer.
“Yes.” She nods, tears still shining. “I’m madly in love with you.
I wanted to tell you when I got on that plane, but the bubble phone had no signal.
I planned to call as soon as I got settled, and then…
” She swallows hard. “That’s when I realized it was gone.
I should’ve told you before I left Crystal Cove. ”
“It’s okay, baby.” My hand slides into her hair. “Hearing you say it now, after what happened at the gala…it means so freaking much.”
Pulling her closer, every wall I built on the drive over, every intention to keep this contained, shatters like glass.
Her breath catches right before my mouth crashes into hers, and when it does, it’s like coming home.
Mont’s warning—I’m sure you understand my daughter is off-limits—vanishes from my mind.
All that exists is her grinding against me, all heat, hunger, like her body’s calling all the shots.
She gasps when I grab a handful of her ass, pull her into the thick, aching line of my cock. Moaning into my mouth, her hips roll with need. And fuck, it’s still not enough.
Nothing ever is with this woman.
“Tell me what you want, baby.”
“You. Right here. Right now.”
I walk her backward until her spine meets the rain-soaked window, tinted so no one can see us.
Cami gasps again, eyes wide, lips parted, dress clinging to her thighs.
The slit offers no resistance as I shove it higher, the fabric giving way under my grip.
Her lace thong’s next, ripped off and flung aside like it dared to get in my way.
She’s bare now. Open. Pressed to the glass, trembling and wet, looking at me like she might come undone if I so much as breathe on her.
I drop to my knees.
Taste her.
Lick her slow and deep, groaning against her when she cries out, thighs tensing around my shoulders.
I tug her closer, arms locked around her hips, mouth greedily sucking her clit.
She’s slick, swollen, soaked in everything we’ve built this summer.
And when she moans my name, raw and helpless, I lose it.
Getting to my feet, my mouth is wet with her unmistakable arousal, heart thundering like I’ve run a goddamn marathon.
Cami’s chest rises and falls in shallow, desperate breaths, her hands gripping my shoulders like she’ll fall if she lets go.
“Turn around,” I growl, wanting to take her hard and fast from behind, but she shakes her head.
“No. I want to see you.”
Fuck. Fisting my tux pants, I shove them down, kick them to the side, and grip her thighs, hitching her legs around my waist as I press her higher against the glass.
Her back arches, slick pussy dragging along the length of my hard cock, and we both groan loud and unfiltered.
“I’ve missed you so much,” I rasp, lining myself up. “Ached when I thought I’d never see you again. Never hold you again.”
“I’m right here.” Her fingers weave into my hair, pulling me down until our foreheads touch. “Take me.”
I thrust in deep, all at once, and her moan echoes through the apartment.
Nails dig into my skin. Her mouth finds mine, messy, wild, starving.
She clings to me, taking me to the hilt, grinding hard as I fuck her, rain pounding the glass, matching every thrust with a crash of its own.
Our breaths fog the pane.
My name spills from her lips, again and again, broken and beautiful.
“Harder,” she begs, need spilling into every syllable. “Don’t stop. Please, Knox, don’t stop.”
I grip her ass, slamming her into me with every stroke, chasing the edge I’ve been dying to reach since the moment I saw her again.
Tightening around me, her body locks up, and then she breaks, moaning into my mouth as she falls apart in my arms.
I follow, seconds later, hips jerking as I spill inside her, lost in the only woman who’s ever felt like peace.
Cami.
Foreheads resting together, our breaths are tangled, the rain now a whisper against the glass.
She stays curled around me, heart racing against mine like it doesn’t know what comes next.
I don’t move. I don’t speak. I just hold her because letting go might kill me.