Tales of “a night with Knight” are folklore across the nation’s capital and its surrounding states. The care he dedicates to his partners. His stamina. His tongue.
Who needs Acroyoga with someone who bends you like Gumby?
The extent of my bedroom gymnastics is holding these thighs to my ears without scraping my knees on a popcorn dorm ceiling. And even after that I walked crooked for two days, which gave Josh a bigger ego than he deserved. Imagine what would happen after messing around with Antonio.
The first time I have sex after a long hiatus should be something I ease into, something that doesn’t require floaties, a lifeguard, and a CPR team on standby. Antonio will send me straight to urgent care, and I have things to do tomorrow.
The knee-length coat draped over his wide shoulders gives way to the heavy thighs widening his stance. No one can tell me I won’t need a pain reliever to handle all of that girth.
Men in expensive suits aren’t a turn-on for me. Manicured fingernails and crooked smiles are never up to any good. Yet the veins in Antonio’s caramel hands render me speechless. The only excuse I have for gawking is that I’m trying to guess what lotion makes the hands I’ve seen toss large men appear so soft.
He plays rugby with a DC team for fun. He’s a flanker like Kierra, my best friend, which is the extent I know about the sport with no pads or helmets. I saw Antonio in action the few times the women’s rugby team played on a field in the same park. He and I never had a reason to speak during the rare occasions I allowed her to drag me away from campus. He’s him, and I’m, well, me.
I’ll tell you one thing: Witnessing his muscles shift and contract as he sprinted to the goal or pummeled an opponent who easily weighed over two hundred pounds was an experience.
I discovered three things about myself while I was pretending not to watch. The first was that playful people have an off switch that makes them ruthless when necessary. Antonio wins every class clown award, but he’s a menace as a rugby player. The second was a newfound appreciation for well-developed quad muscles and a gym booty. The third I’m not proud of and would never admit out loud.
A man’s grunt can be as euphoric as his moan, and, my, does Antonio grunt.
His voice carried to my blanket to tease my nipples that day. I never had such a physical reaction to a man’s voice, and I gathered up my things to wait in the car. I refused to be another member of his fan club trying to catch his eye—not that I would with the number of women vying for his attention. I had zerointerest in one of the biggest flirts in the nation’s capital whose list of sexual partners needs its own Wikipedia page.
I crane my head back to catch Antonio’s tongue glisten his lower lip in a wet trail. His short, boxed beard frames a handsome square face, which crinkles at the corners in a buttery smile.
“Hello, Miriam.” Antonio’s voice is playful, but the brown gaze sliding down my profile to take in every curve is deadly.
“Antonio.” I curl my lip in a subtle attempt to defrost my glasses and not sniff the air, which is scented with his tobacco and cedar cologne.
Ben’s brows dip. “You know her?”
“We go way back, don’t we?” Antonio gestures to the barstool next to me. “Mind if I join you?” He smiles at my bobblehead impression and unbuttons his coat.
I never took him for someone who wears suspenders. The tan elastic strains over the muscles packed inside his crisp white button-down. I focus on a neon bar sign above Blow-up Doll Guy’s head and recite failure theories in my head.
Failure is imminent when a material’s maximum principal stress exceeds its ultimate tensile strength.
Numbers and science soothe my mind whenever thoughts boomerang. My focus is on analyzing factors that impact machine components. Failure criteria applied to gears and springs.
Shafts.
The gulp of water I inhale goes down the wrong pipe.
Antonio pats me on the back at my coughing fit. “You okay?”
“Yup.” I cough again and reach for my bourbon, reacquainting my heaving throat with a burn that ignites a croak. “Just fine.”
This is why I stay in the house, away from all distractions. Suspender-wearing muscle men included.
Antonio could stand in for Alfie fromEmily in Pariswithout anyone noticing. Kierra forces me to watch the series during monthly get-togethers that involve ordering food and never leaving the house. The same thick brows, generous mouth, and even, white teeth are currently invading my personal space.
“Two Doe sightings before the end of the year, and in this dress?” I shiver under his appraisal. It’s slow, passing over the top of my shoulder, down my breasts, and eventually anchoring on the indent of my waist. “You look—”
“Like not myself?” I offer.
“Incredible.” He swallows and clears his throat, motioning to the bartender. “I’ll have a bourbon, Ben. Refill?”
“Sure,” I say.
“So, what brings you out from your library tower and into my neck of the woods?”
