Page 150 of Twisted Knight

But he doesn’t stop. Can’t. My back slams against the wall with each deep stroke, his arm holding me still while he drives into me.

Again.

And again.

Until it’s my name on his lips as his whole body wracks with tension as his own climax slams into him.

We’re still against the wall, our hearts beating as frantically as our breaths are labored. His forehead on my shoulder as one hand still holds me against his and the other is on my ass.

“Let me go,” I say as my sense seeps in through the haze. As I realize he brought a date and I fucked him anyway.

“No,” he grunts and tightens his grip on me.

“Who is she?” I ask, his cock softening slowly.

“This right here.” He ignores my questions and licks a line up the side of my throat. “It’s all I’ve thought about all goddamn afternoon. Tasting your skin. Feeling your pussy. Owning this body. Having you stand at the party after this, when everyone is looking at you, and still feel me in you.”

“Holden,” I murmur in simple, satisfied appreciation. It’s without thought. An effortless reaction when I should be rioting against him.

At the sound of his name, Holden slowly lowers my feet to the ground, but instead of letting me go, he slides his hands up until they are framing my face.

And when he leans in to kiss me this time, it reminds me of the night at the beach. It’s tender. It’s quiet but so damn powerful. It’s the exact opposite of what we just did.

He leans back, his eyes on mine, and his thumb now brushing over my bottom lip. There’s something in the look he’s giving me that has chills chasing over my already overstimulated skin. His guard slips in that split second, but it’s not long enough for me to place the unnamed emotion before it’s pushed back down.

He opens his mouth to say something, hesitates, and then leans in for one more brush of his lips, almost as if to make up for the pause. And then he murmurs, “I fucking hate being ignored, Sunshine.”

If that’s what this is about, then I’m going to ignore him constantly. Holy hell, was that … intense, hot, erotic, something I want to do all over again.

And so very fucking wrong.

But he’s here. Not with her.

It’s me. Not her.

I look at him, swallow my pride, and act like she doesn’t exist.

In this moment, she doesn’t.

“Then I guess you should have brought the girl who would’ve worn the sapphires.”

He belts out a low chuckle and shakes his head. “I guess so.”

FORTY-EIGHT

Holden

“Another, please,” I say to the bartender.

He eyes me cautiously. “You take a wrong turn or are you looking for trouble?”

“Does it matter? My money’s good all the same, right?”

He nods. “Yeah, but guys like you don’t come into places like this.”

I look around the hole in the wall. It smells of stale liquor and years of cigarette smoke that has seeped into the walls. The customers have a familiarity with each other that says this is their daily haunt.

And a guy like me, with clothes like this, sticks out like a sore thumb.