Knox (Sexy Bastard #3) (9 page)

Without a word, I lock the door behind me, and then our hands are on each other, all over, hers tracing my chest and mine gripping her firm, tight little ass. I kiss her hard, roughly, and she moans into my mouth, so soft and sweet.

It feels like being able to breathe after holding my breath all morning, touching her after watching her across the table, unable to react, unable to let anyone see how much I wanted her. Now, I lift her against the sink and push her skirt the rest of the way up, baring her wet pussy to the world. I drop between her legs, my tongue going straight for her clit. She’s gasping in minutes, her fists clenched in my hair, her groan long and barely restrained, because we know we need to be quiet, with all our friends in the bar.

If anyone comes down here now . . . 

But watching her writhe on top of the sink when she comes, I can’t help myself. I need her now. And she seems to agree.

“Fuck me,” she whispers, her eyes locked on mine, and I pull her to the edge of the sink, a condom wrapper already in my hand. She expertly rolls it over my cock, her fingers so tight and firm. With a guttural groan of relief, I sink my cock deep into her.

Right about then, there’s a knock at the door.

We both freeze, panting. My cock twitches inside her, and her walls clench hard around me, nearly sending me over the edge right there.

“Yeah?” I call.

“Dude, what the hell? I need to piss,” Cash shouts back.

I grimace. “One minute. I didn’t get the angle on this selfie right.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” he yells. “I thought you were joking about that shit, man.”

“Hey, your girl’s the one who told me to,” I point out.

But he’s already retreating. We hear the door opposite, the one leading to the ladies’ room, swing open, and I figure he’s decided to use that instead.

I’m about to set Shelby down, when she grins at me, and tightens her grip.

Fuck
.

So I do what any hot-blooded American man would do. I fuck her hard, and silently, against the sink, until we both finish, our mouths pressed together to swallow the faint moans that neither of us can help releasing.

Then we straighten our clothes and slip back out to the bar, one at a time.

S
helby’s
back at the bar first, already tossing her hair and talking to Cash about an imaginary phone call she just had with Jackson. Good cover, since Cash was in the ladies’ room, and would’ve realized Shelby wasn’t in there. I return a few minutes later, feigning the tail end of a phone call from my manager.

The rest of the crew is huddled around Ryder’s phone watching a clip. Another smoking hot encounter with Shelby, and no one is the wiser.

We meet each other’s eyes across the room, the tension between us sated—for now.

I don’t know what the fuck we’re doing, but something tells me this inning won’t be our last.

A
road trip
in Georgia means one thing, and one thing only: a stop at a Dairy Queen for a basket of chicken strips and a super-size portion of fries. And maybe a Peanut Butter Cup Blizzard to go along with it.

Kidding!

The Blizzard is a given.

“Shelby, you’re an animal. Much respect.”

“You’re not getting any of my fries, Ruby,” I holler from the back seat. “Get your own or pout in jealousy for the rest of the ride!”

I stretch my legs out across the seat as we work our way through the drive-through. “Ladies, don’t you know that once you cross city limits, you’re officially on vacation?” I say. “Calories magically stop counting, and hangovers are just marketing schemes used to increase sales of cold-pressed juice.”

“Gotta say, that’s the downside of screwing your personal trainer,” Ruby replies. “I swear the man can detect the presence of saturated fats in your system when kissing you three days after the fact.”

“He sounds judgmental,” I tell her. “I like him less and less.”

“Don’t disparage my jacked-up love partner. I’m trying to get Avery on board for the friends and family discount.”

“Not a chance.” Avery crosses her arms. “I’m convinced it’s a ploy to trick me into a threesome.”

“Avery,” Ruby replies, “The day anyone succeeds in tricking you into sharing so much as a toothbrush will be one for the books.”

“You’re absolutely right,” Avery says. “Because that’s the most disgusting thing I’ve ever heard.”

“What, you guys don’t share toothbrushes?” Ruby cocks an eyebrow, as I make a disgusted groaning sound.

We laugh as we pick up our order at the next window.

Sweet slivers of deep-fried tater goodness, come to mama. But junk food isn’t really the kind of indulgence I’m thinking about. As I dip a fry in gravy, my mind is on the last time I saw Knox. Slipping away for a quick and dirty, breathless little reunion up against a bathroom sink, our friends not twenty feet away. One of them even closer, when Cash knocked, nearly stopping my heart in my chest . . . Let’s just say that’s not the kind of story I’d share with Avery, who would probably send a SWAT team to disinfect the entire bar. Plus this
thing
with Knox, whatever it is, isn’t something I’m sharing with anyone. At least right now.

A
n hour
later we’re pulling up to the rental, a sweetly decrepit yellow clapboard house with a wide porch and direct access to the lake. Cassie and Savannah are an hour behind us, the boys due later in the afternoon. A lovely, crisp weekend for a getaway, I think as we haul our stuff into the house. Perfect for huddling around a fire pit. And snuggling under the covers with a warm, hard body after everyone else has gone to sleep, maybe . . . 

“Dibs on the hammock,” I call out. I plan to spend most of the weekend lying under that weeping willow with a steaming hot mug of heavily spiked apple cider and some tasty snacks within reach. When I’m not lying under Cooper Knox, that is. My dirty little secret. Every girl should have one. Strike that. Every
woman
should have one
.
A role that’s somehow much easier to inhabit when Big Brother Jackson is out of town.

Ruby spreads her arms wide and twirls around in a circle. “Who wants to go for a dip in the lake?”

Didn’t realize we’d signed on for a meeting of the Polar Bear society.

“Ummm. Is this some sort of a personal training challenge, Ruby?” I respond. “It’s forty degrees outside and still technically winter. I didn’t bring a swimsuit.”

“Neither did I,” Avery adds.

Ruby places her hands on her hips and faces us with her best poker face. “Neither did I.”

“Well,” Avery says in a hopeful tone. “That’s settled, then?”

Ruby snorts. “Are you going to let a little thing like daytime nudity stop you from enjoying yourself? Please don’t tell me you’ve gone soft, ladies.”

“I have no problem being soft,” Avery says. “I like a clean toothbrush and a comfortable summertime bathing experience. Also, not dying of frostbite is a plus.”

“Ditto,” I say. “Why don’t we make a batch of popcorn, heat up some cider, and settle in for a cozy game of Boggle?”

It’s pretty easy to see where this is going. Our fiery little Ruby has that glint in her eye. The glint I’ve known since the first day of seventh grade. Pretty soon she’s got us in her clutches like some kind of slightly evil, mind-controlling sorceress. “Because popcorn and cider will taste much better after braving the wilds. Go on, I dare you both to let loose for once.”

“I am loose,” Avery objects. “I’m at a campsite right now, in the winter. This is loose for me.”

“Loosen more,” Ruby counters. “I double dare you.”

I can’t help laughing. “Oh, is that how it is? Is this a high school flashback weekend?”

“I bet in high school you would’ve taken me up on this dare,” she points out with a smirk. “Go on, I’ll make a fire in the outdoor pit first. First one in and out of the lake gets the premium spot right next to it to warm up after. Indulge your inner daredevils. For me?”

She’s crazy, but I cannot resist that girl’s eyelash batting. Finally, I relent with a groan. “All right, fine. But Avery makes the fire. I don’t trust you around flames.”

Resident Girl Scout Avery has a roaring fire going in no time.

“Let’s do this!” Ruby yells at the top of her lungs as Avery and I halfheartedly prepare, soaking up all the warmth we can.

Soon Ruby is streaking her way to the lake, screaming like a banshee at the top of her lungs. There’s nothing to do but strip down to nothing and follow her in.

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck!” I yell.

“Why would anyone do this?” Avery screams.

“This is honestly terrible!”

But I do see Ruby’s point. There is something both horrible and wonderful about the jolt of a wintertime dip. Though I don’t think it’s anything you need to experience twice.

We’re in for less than a minute. The three of us race back to the fire in our birthday suits, every follicle raised, every internal organ iced down to a solid block.

A pretty vulnerable position to be in when faced with an unexpected surprise.

Before we make it back to our towels and our sweats, Jackson’s SUV pulls up to the front of the house.

“Looking good, ladies!” Cash hollers over the honking of the horn, sticking his head out the window.

Oh my god
.

That’s my brother’s car.

I don’t think I’ve ever gotten dressed so quickly. Ruby and Avery are already laughing it off as they wrestle their socks on with chattering teeth, but I can’t even force a giggle.

What the fuck is Jackson doing here?

I’m not sure what’s more awful. The fact that I just treated my older brother and his friends to a triathlete event in the nude Olympics. Or the prospect of a tension-filled weekend of paranoid play-acting with Knox. There goes our sexy little getaway.

The guys get out of the SUV and Knox strides over with a cord of wood, cracking up as he sets it down by the fire pit. Glad he’s enjoying himself.

“Looks like I got here just in time to see the march of the penguins.”

“Knox, I’m going to need you to immediately forget what you saw and promise never to speak of it again,” Avery says with unusual directness.

“You have my gentleman’s promise,” he says.

He really can be quite gentlemanly when he’s not flipping a naked woman over her couch, I think.

I scan the truck to see whether Jackson is looking over at us. But all I see are Ryder and Cash unloading the trunk and preparing to give us a massive amount of shit.

Knox wanders back to the truck and I follow him there. “Where the fuck is Jackson?” I whisper through gritted, still chattering teeth, my heart pounding. “And why isn’t he on his job site?”

A smile spreads across Knox’s face, and I’m close to punching him. Does he really think this is funny?

“False alarm, Shelby. We borrowed Jackson’s truck for the weekend.”

He lowers his voice, a devious glint in his eyes. “Big brother is out of town as planned.”

My shivering abruptly stops.

“Holy crap, you scared the living daylights out of me,” I say, putting on my best game face as I wave to Ryder and Cash. Knox traces a finger up my arm, before flashing me a quick wink, his head turned so no one else will see.

“Don’t worry. I’ve got you covered.”

Then he’s gone across to the fire, and I do my best to stop shivering yet again, this time from desire and not the cold.

“
A
vert your eyes
,” Ryder says as I come down the stairs. “It’s the third member of the fabulous streaking trio.”

“We thought you guys were coming later,” I say with a scowl.

“And miss the annual meeting of the Naked Ladies’ Water Ballet society?” Cash says. “Not a chance.”

“Heard we missed quite the show,” Savannah says. “No one thought to snap a pic?”

“Thankfully they didn’t. And we agreed never to discuss this topic again,” Avery reminds the group.

“We’re legends, Avery,” says Ruby. “I’m comfortable with that.”

Knox is sprawled out on the couch, looking quite comfortable himself in a sports jacket and a pair of jeans.

I perch on an armchair across the room, avoiding his gaze, afraid of betraying our connection through my body language.

Because of our schedules, we haven’t seen each other since the barroom tryst, but the brief touch of his hand on my arm was a jolt that sparked our current right back to life. Besides, if you tally up the encounters that have taken place in my mind since then, we’ve been together approximately seventy-two times. The flurry of texts we sent each other last night didn’t help. Though they did make it clear that I wasn’t the only one whose imagination was working overtime.

I look over at him and give him a little smile, feeling my body unclench as I settle into a reality that does not include Jackson or dips in unseasonably cold lake water. All of a sudden I do feel a lot warmer.

“Who’s up for a game of celebrity?” Savannah asks.

The guys groan, but they’re outnumbered.

A
fter an hour’s
worth of Kim Kardashian, Donald Duck, and James Brown impressions, we’ve worked up an appetite, and my nerves have recovered from this afternoon’s adventures. We split into teams to get dinner ready—Knox and Cash on grilling, me and Ruby on veggies and sides.

“Everyone else can scram,” Ruby says, waving her spatula around like a pint-size dictator. “Too many cooks in this tiny-ass kitchen.”

It’s definitely a tight squeeze, Ruby and I bumping butts as we negotiate the limited counter space.

But small can be a good thing if you’re not opposed to running into your neighbor.

I stifle a gasp as Knox smacks me on the ass on his way to the grill.

Ruby’s leaning into the fridge, her back turned to us.

I flip him the bird and go back to chopping cucumbers, biting my lip as the heat of his touch ripples through my core.

“Found it!” Ruby emerges with a bottle of Tabasco sauce. “Can’t make a proper mac ’n cheese without a little bit of heat.”

She’s right about that.

Knox and I sit at opposite corners of the table as we dig into our feast of burgers, bacon-studded macaroni and cheese, and a big green salad to make us all feel a little better about ourselves.

No accident in that seating arrangement. Enough distance so Knox and I won’t be tempted into a game of footsie. But a clear enough sightline for us to exchange plenty of loaded looks, I think as I take a giant bite of burger. I look up to find Knox nursing his beer, his half-eaten dinner sitting on his plate as he watches me eat mine. I gingerly wipe the remnants of a juicy tomato off my chin as we lock eyes, then, on impulse, I stick the now juice-covered finger into my mouth and slowly lick it clean. His whole body tightens, and I can’t help but grin as I turn back to my plate. I love the effect I have on him.

I’m sharing a room with Ruby and Avery tonight, but something tells me I won’t be spending much time in my bed.

“
W
hat’s next
?” Ruby says, grabbing another round of beers out of the fridge. I swear that girl never gets tired.

“S’mores. And then bed,” Cassie says with a yawn as Ryder wraps his arms around her waist.

Can’t argue with that plan. There’s always room in my specially compartmentalized stomach for dessert. And an early bedtime means there’ll be plenty of time for Knox and I to find a little privacy and pick up where we left off last time.

While the boys get to work on the fire pit, Ruby and Avery head out toward the lake in search of roasting spits.

“Looks like we’ve got a couple of girl scouts on our hands,” Cash says with a chuckle as they return with armfuls of long, thin sticks and a few fragrant pine cones to toss on the fire. “That where you learned to swim?”

Savannah gives him a shove. “Cash is just jealous because his only survival skills are mixing drinks and seducing women,” she says.

He smacks her on the ass and I look over at Knox, my face flushing at the memory of the spank he gave me earlier. He raises an eyebrow at me, clearly reliving it too.

Cassie spreads out blankets on the ground, and we gather around the roaring flames. I distribute the supplies, handing out giant fluffy marshmallow, cheap sugary chocolate (the
only
kind suitable for s’mores), and buttery graham crackers to everyone.

“When was the last time you roasted marshmallows, bro?” Ryder asks Knox, his legs comfortably intertwined with Cassie’s.

“Couldn’t tell you. Young Knox was too busy with Little League for summer camp,” Knox replies, piercing his fluffy pile of gelatin and sugar and holding it out over the flames.

“Awww, man, you missed out.” Ruby shoots him a sympathetic side-eye.

Summer camp is one of Ruby’s favorite topics. And there’s nothing like gooey marshmallows dripping on long wooden sticks to put her in the mood to trade stories about those long ago summers. But I’ve heard the one about her affair with the counselor before. And the one about spiking the punch at the older kids’ dance.
And
the one about the day she and her friend Malia skipped out on the field trip to the water park and fell in with a group of Hell’s Angels. Comparing summer breaks with Ruby was always a losing battle.