His mouth twitches. “He ever finds out, this might just cause the heart attack I’ve been waiting for.”
“Why else shouldn’t you be doing this?”
He runs a knuckle down my cheek. “That one isn’t enough?”
“I just want to know what else I’m up against.”
His eyes search my face as if he’s weighing just how honest he wants to be. “I’m old enough to be your dad.”
“Technically, if you knocked some girl up at school while you were sixteen. Otherwise, no. You’re not. I’m an old soul and you’re…well, you.”
His lips brush mine briefly. “Even if it’s just for one night, you deserve better than tangling yourself up with me.”
I place my palm on his pec, just above his heart. “Now that’s just martyrdom. And it’s not very convincing.”
His brow furrows. “Why not?”
“You saved me from those two men, carried me through a hurricane, and stayed with me to help me shower so I wouldn’t catch hypothermia.”
He shakes his head. “Don’t make me sound like a hero. You and I both know you’re not getting hypothermia, and it’s not thereason I’m standing here. That isn’t going to wash with anyone I know.”
“It’s better than most men I’ve dated.”
For a second, Knox just stares at me, and then, he laughs. “You need a better dating pool, sweetheart.”
“Have you seen where I live? Options run low in a town this size, and I work too hard to go much farther afield.” I don’t tell him that it’s something I want and miss. Someone to love me. Someone to have children with. Especially children. And not just the responsibility and joy of having them…but of making them. I have vivid dreams and fantasies about how that would feel, the pulse of a man’s cock as he comes, knowing it could lead to a child…
Knox runs his hand through his wet hair, pushing it back off his face. “I don’t want a relationship, Maren. I feel like a dirty fuck even considering taking advantage of you, even if it’s for just one night.”
“If this is about you consenting, then we can stop. I’ll rinse off and leave you alone so you can take care of…well…that.” We both glance down to where his exceptionally thick erection rubs up against my hip. “But if this is about you trying to be noble or good, then don’t.”
The look that flashes across his face is almost laughably helpless. Like he’s run out of objections, has all the permission he needs, but still can’t decide.
So, I find my courage and reach for his wrist, tugging him to me until his fingers rest on me. Then, I drag his hand lower, past my belly button, over my pubic bone, until his fingers rest over my clit.
“Jesus, Maren,” he says reverently, his eyes fixed on mine, not our hands.
I spread my feet a little farther apart, and Knox slides his hand between my thighs, cupping me softly before running his middle finger through my folds.
I don’t know if he can tell how wet I am because of the shower water, but I buck against him.
“This okay?” he asks.
“Yeah, Knox. It’s very okay.”
His other hand cups the back of my neck and pulls me to him in a kiss that steals all the air from my lungs. We’ve crossed a line that we can’t come back from, and I don’t care.
My hips buck again when Knox slides a finger deep inside me.
“Good girl,” he encourages. “So good letting me touch you like this. So fucking wet for me.”
Hecantell.
His strokes keep me on my toes. Sometimes he pulls out of me completely to circle my clit. Sometimes he presses back in. When he adds a second finger, I begin to squirm. Getting myself to orgasm has always been easy. Trusting a man to do it for me, not so much.
But in the intimacy of the shower and whatever this is between us, I find myself hurtling towards one with little effort.
The hand at the back of my neck squeezes tighter, and I reach between us to wrap my fingers around his cock for the first time.
