Knox
As I stand here, soaking in the sight of Cheyenne in my jersey and nothing else, it hits me just how much trouble I’m in.
Thousands of women have worn my number. I’ve seen them in the stands and on the Jumbotron while on the ice.
At the Rail Yard, parties, and after nights I barely remembered the next morning.
None of them have ever meant a damn thing.
But this?
It’s everything.
Seeing Cheyenne in my jersey awakens something primal inside me, and the sound that rumbles up from my chest is caught somewhere between a groan and a growl.
“I think you might be trying to kill me,” I mutter.
With a tilt of her head, she smiles. “What’s wrong? I thought this is what you wanted.” She lifts her arms and the fabric rides higher up her thighs. “For me to wear your jersey.”
Not like this.
Not where I can see her bare legs beneath the hem. Not where the sight of my name encasing her body makes some possessive part of me sit up and take notice.
Before I realize it, I’m hooking an arm beneath her thighs to lift her up.
A startled laugh spills from her lips as she grabs my shoulders. “Knox—”
“You’re the one who started this, Hollywood. Now I’m going to do what I’ve been dying to and finish it.”
I carry her across the room to the piano that sits in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows, where I was playing the night she wandered out half asleep. In hindsight, that was the moment things truly changed between us.
I set her on the polished surface, and the jersey bunches around her thighs.
She sucks in a breath, her green eyes darkening. “Are you finally done pretending?”
Fuck.
She’s right. That’s exactly what I’ve been doing.
I’ve been pretending I could keep this contained.
Pretending I could want her without doing anything about it.
Pretending that if I held out long enough, I could keep this from turning into something real.
But standing here with her in my jersey while she stares at me with that look in her eyes?
I can’t do it any longer.
“Yeah, Hollywood. I am.”
My hands slide up her thighs as she fists the front of my shirt, dragging me closer. The second my mouth slants across hers, she opens for me. The kiss is deep and hungry, but there’s something else in it too.
Relief, maybe.
The taste of her goes straight to my head. And the soft sound that escapes her is nearly my undoing.
Cheyenne Benson has consumed my every waking thought for days now.
If I’m being honest, it’s been a hell of a lot longer than that.
Fucking years.
When my lips trail down the slender column of her throat, her head falls back, granting me even more access. I take my time, kissing and licking and savoring before reaching the neckline of the jersey and shoving the thick fabric up her body until her breasts spill free.
Christ, this woman.
I lower my mouth to one pebbled nipple, sucking gently at first, then harder when her fingers delve into my hair, tugging me closer. Her breathing turns ragged as she arches her spine.
Everything about this woman drives me out of my fucking mind.
And the scariest part?
I already know it’ll never be enough.
I ease the first nipple free before kissing my way across her chest. Reaching the other, I take my time, giving it the same deliberate attention. It draws a shiver from her, and the reaction hits me like a freight train.
She’s so fucking beautiful it almost hurts to stare at her.
I slide lower, pressing kisses over every inch of skin I can reach. First her stomach and then her hipbone. The inside of one thigh and then the other.
The last thing I want is for this to be rushed.
I want her to feel adored. I want her to forget about everything outside this penthouse.
I kiss my way down one leg, pressing my lips against the delicate skin behind her knee before sliding lower to the arch of her foot. Her body loosens with each touch, her breath catching as she leans back against the glossy surface, the material bunching above her breasts.
The sight of her nearly steals my breath all over again.
She looks wild and flushed.
Mine.
That’s the only word that rises within me before I try to shove it back down again. But it stays there, refusing to budge.
As I kiss my way back up her other leg, I pause at the inside of her thigh, sinking my teeth into the soft flesh just enough to make her gasp before soothing it with my tongue, leaving a faint mark behind.
I don’t allow myself to think too hard about the need inside me that demands I claim her in some way.
“Spread your legs wide, baby,” I say, voice roughened with need. “Let me see every gorgeous inch.”
Her teeth scrape across her lower lip as she does exactly as I ask.
I straighten, taking in the pretty picture she makes with my jersey shoved up around her collarbone so her breasts are on display. Her thighs are parted for me, and she’s already slick with need. Never in my life have I seen anything more beautiful than Cheyenne sprawled across the top of my piano.
When my thumb brushes over her clit, another whimper breaks loose from her.
Unable to hold back for another second, I step closer and lower my face to her pussy.
My tongue laps from the bottom of her slit to the top of her clit, licking up all that delicious cream.
Her fingers tunnel through my hair to hold me in place.
With every stroke, she becomes even more responsive.
Her legs part a bit more until she’s spread impossibly wide.
When I run the tip of my tongue across her lips, circling them with a maddening slowness, her nails rake against my scalp as she presses me closer.
“Knox…”
“What is it, baby?” The words come out gravelly. “Tell me what you need.”
“For you to make me come.”
“You don’t want me to keep playing with you?” I give her another long lick. “Driving you crazy?”
“No, I can’t take any more.”
My grip tightens, just enough to pull a reaction from her. “Good,” I murmur. “I like when you tell me exactly what you want.” I lean in closer, voice dropping another notch. “Say it again.”
“Please, Knox…” Her voice trembles. “I-I want you to make me come.”
I dip my tongue in her pussy before nibbling at her clit, knowing it’ll shove her right over the precipice.
As tempting as it is to draw out her pleasure and continue teasing her, I can’t do it.
I want to watch her come undone and hear my name on her lips, knowing I’m the only one capable of making her body sing like this.
Me.
And no one else.
Her muscles tighten beneath my hands as she arches, shattering with a hoarse cry. I continue licking her until the last spasm racks her body and she turns lax. Only then do I press a kiss against her clit before straightening to stare down at her.
There’s a blissed-out look on her face that makes me swell with pride. That’s exactly the way a woman should look after having a man’s mouth and hands on her body.
I lean in, brushing my lips over the softness of her belly. She blinks, her expression still dazed.
“If I didn’t say it before…” I murmur. “You look amazing.”
A smile curves her lips as she pushes herself upright and slides off the piano.
The movement has the jersey falling back down around her.
It looks just as good on her now as it did when she first pulled it on.
Maybe better, because now it’s wrinkled and a little crooked from being shoved up her body.
It’s a surprise when she slides to her knees in front of me. “You don’t—”
“I’ve been thinking about you all day,” she says, flicking open the button of my pants and lowering the zipper. “And now I need to know.”
My throat dries. “Know what?”
A wicked glint flashes in her eyes. “What you taste like.”
I groan, my head falling back. “Jesus, Chey.”
Her gaze stays fastened to mine as she stares up at me from her knees. I’ve imagined this a thousand times, but nothing compares to the actual sight. Even the idea of her taking me inside her mouth is nearly enough to make me come all over myself.
There’s no way I’ll last more than a minute or two.
Three, tops.
“You’re sure?”
Her mouth curves as she eases my jeans down enough to free my erection. “You just spent all that time making me feel like I was the only thing in the world that mattered.” Her gaze stays pinned to mine. “Let me do the same for you.”
Her fingers tighten as she strokes me, and it becomes necessary to brace a hand on the piano just to stay upright.
Unable to help myself, I reach down, caressing her cheek with my fingers. “You have no idea what you do to me.”
“Pretty sure I can guess,” she says with a smirk before leaning in and dragging her tongue over the head of my cock.
A groan slips free as she circles the crown. By the time she licks from root to tip and back again, my teeth are gritted and my pulse is roaring in my ears. Already, I’m dancing on the edge. My body jerks from the rush of heat that surrounds me when she finally takes me into her mouth.
“Fuck,” I hiss between clenched teeth.
It’s ridiculous how turned on I am by this woman. Cheyenne might be the one on her knees, but when it comes to her, I’m the one who’s been brought to mine.
When she takes me down her throat until I’m nudging the back of it, my eyes nearly cross. Nothing has ever felt this amazing.
My hands slide into her hair, needing something to keep me tethered to the earth as she falls into a steady rhythm, working me with a maddening slowness. The way she slides up and down my hard length is pure nirvana.
“You keep that up, baby, and I’m going to come.”
Her mouth turns voracious as she maintains eye contact the entire time.
Less than thirty seconds later, I lose total control. As much as I want to close my eyes and enjoy the feel of her milking every last drop of cum from my body, I can’t bring myself to do it. I need to keep my gaze locked on her, watching every emotion as it crosses her expression.
My release seems to go on forever. It’s the best damn thing I’ve ever felt, and somehow, with Chey, I knew it would be.
As soon as I soften, she releases me. I tuck myself back into my boxers before reaching down to pull her into my arms. My hands rise to cup her face, one thumb brushing her cheek.
“You’re so fucking perfect,” I say, voice low and still a bit uneven. “I hope you know that.”
Her eyes soften as I slip a lock of hair behind her ear, my fingers lingering against her skin.
“I can’t wait to see you in the suite tomorrow,” I admit. “Wearing my jersey.”
A slow smile lifts the corners of her lips.
“This isn’t fake for me, Chey. I’m not sure it ever was,” I blurt before I can stop myself.
She freezes, her eyes widening.
“There’s always been something between us.” I swallow down the nerves. “But I wasn’t ready before. I needed time to get my shit together enough to be the man you deserved.”
Her breath catches as her eyes turn shiny, and it gives me the strength to continue.
“But I am now,” I say. “I’m ready to stop pretending this is casual and to prove to you that I can be the man you need.”
I stand before her, stripped bare and exposed. And, if I’m being honest, terrified that she might not feel the same way. But there’s no part of me that wants to take it back. For the first time since this all began, I’m not hiding from what she means to me.