KnoxfuckingStone has been a constant thorn in my side for as long as I can remember, but he also saved me.
How can you hate someone who saved you?
With him, though, there’s a very blurred line between hate and wanting something you can never have. He’s made it very clear in the past how he feels about me, and I’m not about to give him the satisfaction of knowing what he does to me.
I shake the fog from my brain and scramble to get off of him. His strong hands have a grip on my waist, and I end up straddling him with my movements, which was mistake number one, as I feel him harden beneath me.
My body impulsively wants to sink into the feel of him, but I fight the urge as I invite my anger in to take over the lust-induced haze he’s got me under.
“Let go of me, you big ass,” I grumble as I wrestle out of his hold and stand on shaky legs. My t-shirt barely covers me as I push it down and try to compose myself as I watch him slowly get up and stand to full height.
Of course, the one man on this earth that doesn’t make me want to flinch underneath him has to be the most gorgeous specimen that God has ever made.
He brushes his hair out of his eyes, and his golden streaks flash briefly in the light before he replaces his baseball cap, tucking the loose strands away. I notice he’s grown it out more, with the longer wings showing at the nape of his neck.
His black t-shirt with the Bolts logo stretches across his broad chest as I impulsively go lower and take in his grey sweats. It’s like the ultimate sin candy on a stick staring at me, just begging me to have a taste.
He’s still fully hard as I glance at his outline and try not to wonder if it’s as big as it looks before quickly looking away. At least I know he feels something towards me, even if he says otherwise. Hopefully, it’s painful for him, and his blue balls fall off from the pressure.
“Don’t get too smug, sunshine. I get hard for just about anything with tits.” His smirk has me wanting to smack it right off his face.
“It’s not that impressive,” I say, nodding my head to what clearly is contradicting my lie I’m forcing through my lips. “I can get better just by walking into a bar and picking a random stranger.”
His eyes narrow, and I get satisfaction from the way his jaw tenses up. He’s just like my brothers with his overbearing protectiveness. Unlike my brothers, though, I love to see how far I can push him until he finally snaps.
He can deny it all he wants, but there’s always been an underlying current of energy with us. I felt it the moment I methim at only seven years old. Back then, it was innocent and just a strong connection I couldn’t explain, but as I got older, it developed into something I wanted to explore.
And I did most nights with just my imagination, my thoughts drifting to him as my body slowly began to cross that fragile line into womanhood.
Then that night happened, and a year later, I was dating Tristan. After that, I left for college, and we didn’t see much of each other unless he came to visit us during the holidays or when he came home during the off-season.
It’s easy to tell yourself the connection isn’t as strong when you are miles away, but every time we are in the same room, it’s like being body slammed into a brick wall, and you don’t know how you are going to survive or even feel when you come out on the other side.
“You shouldn’t be hooking up with strangers,” he says through his rock-hard jaw that I’m surprised hasn’t broken a molar yet.
“Lucky for you, I’m not your concern. I’m an adult and can sleep with whoever I want to. You should know how that works better than anyone, right,Stone? The number twenty-two is definitely a hot commodity, and the ultimate bragging rights for the puck bunny community, is it not?” I ask, looking as innocent as possible.
“I guess my dick must be more impressive than you give it credit for.” His eyes rake down my body, and I resist the urge to cross my arms over my breasts, which are clearly on display through my thin white shirt, as I feel my nipples harden at his gaze. Heat flashes briefly in his eyes before he abruptly walks past me and yanks open the refrigerator door.
“I highly doubt that,” I mutter, picking up my AirPods off the floor and setting them on the counter. “What are you doing here,Knox? Don’t you have someone else you could grace with your presence and make their life miserable?”
I turn around and swallow hard as I meet his intense gaze. His chest is stretching his shirt with each rapid movement as his breathing intensifies.
“What?” I try to rack my brain about what could possibly have gotten him so worked up. His knuckles are white, and I expect the door handle to crack at any minute.
“Nothing,” he growls. “How about you put some pants on, and I’ll tell you why I’m here.” He turns around again and yanks a bottle of beer from the shelf.
It’s then that I realize I just gave him the perfect view of my ass when I bent over to get my headphones off the floor. I probably should put some pants on, but I’m having too much fun watching him squirm.
“I’m good. I’m comfortable with what I have on.” Sitting down on the wooden barstool at the island, I cross my legs as his eyes warily watch me. “I’ll take one of those,” I say, pointing at the beer in his hand.
Grabbing a second one, he takes the bottle opener that’s magnetized to the side of the fridge and pops both tops before handing me one.
“Thanks,” I grin sweetly before taking a long pull from the bottle. The beer is ice cold and feels good on my parched throat.
Sighing, he pulls the barstool next to me to the other side of the island, keeping a safe barrier between us. I’m not sure at this point if it’s to protect him or me from this close proximity we are forced to be in.
“As you know, I’ve moved back home,” he says, leaning back and taking a drink from the amber bottle before setting it back on the counter. “Season starts next week, and instead of living in a hotel room, Miles invited me to stay in the guest house out back.”
