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I groan, grabbing the lighter from the cup holder and throwing it at him. “Shut up. I’m supposed to be mad at you.”
“Okay, that’s fair, but can you be mad at me and still let me kiss you? Because it’s all I’ve fucking thought about since Friday night.”
I shouldn’t let him. What kind of message would it be sending if I did? That he can go days without talking to me and still get what he wants? Then again, if he really was in the hospital, I’m just relieved he’s okay. And who am I kidding? It’s all I’ve thought about too.
“Yeah,” I breathe, and it only takes a second before he puts his hand on my cheek and presses his lips to mine.
This kiss isn’t like the first one. It’s patient and gentle, something I didn’t think was in his repertoire. His thumb gently caresses my face as his mouth moves against my own. I follow his lead and open my mouth to allow his tongue inside. He tastes like mint and cigarettes, and somehow, I’m instantly addicted to it.
“Do you trust me?” he murmurs, not breaking the kiss.
I snort. “Not even a little.”
A chuckle sounds from deep in his throat. “Let me make it up to you.”
The warmth from his hand leaves my face, skimming down my arm, to my stomach, to my thigh, and finally, under my uniform skirt. He goes slow and gives me every opportunity to stop him, but for some reason, I don’t. Ever since the first time I dreamed of him, a pressure has been building. Friday night only intensified it. And now? I want nothing more than for him to fix it.
His fingers brush against my sex as he adds just enough pressure for me to feel him through my panties. My legs spread on instinct to give him better access. As he rubs circles against my clit, my heart pounds inside of my chest. I let out a small, breathy moan, only to muffle it by biting my lip.
“Don’t,” he murmurs. “I want to hear you.”
My panting gets heavier as he starts to move faster, and a moan slips from my mouth without my permission.
“That’s it, baby. Let go for me.”
I don’t know if it’s the sound of his voice, the way the term of endearment sounded coming from his lips, or the magic of his fingers, but I explode, ripping apart at the seams. An intense feeling takes over my entire body, and I swear I see stars. Knox doesn’t stop, continuing to rub me through it until I come down from my high. By the time that I open my eyes again, everything feels lighter.
“That… was incredible.”
He smiles in a way that could melt my heart if I let it. It’s an image I’d like to burn into my mind and save for eternity. He looks so proud of himself, yet so enamored by me. There is a glimmer in his eyes that threatens to steal every piece of me, as if I wouldn’t hand it over willingly.
Without a doubt in my mind, I know one thing for sure—Knox Vaughn is going to change my life. I just hope it’s for the better.
11
KNOX
I sit in the passenger seat while Grayson flies down the road. He’s completely erratic, though I can’t say I blame him. I just hope he knows what he’s doing.
“All right. Why don’t you just calm down a little before you kill us both?”
“Calm down?” he barks incredulously. “He beat her so bad it ruptured her fucking spleen! He would have murdered her if I hadn’t stopped him, and you want me to calm down?”
Drifting around corners, I grip the handle on the ceiling of the car. I know the more I say, the angrier he’ll get. Whatever mission he’s on, there is nothing that will deter him from it. Hopefully, he’s thinking with a clear head.
As we pull up behind the rusted Buick, my eyes land on a shadow in the distance. There’s no denying it’s Craig Montgomery. I’ve seen his drunk ass stumble out of his house so many times in the years, I’d know that silhouette anywhere.
“You were right, he’s fucking here.” Grayson gets out of the car and slams the door behind him. “Aye, asshole! You and I need to talk.”
I wake in a panic, taking a deep breath and wincing at the tenderness in my ribs. My eyes search around for Hayworth, knowing I need to stop him, but no one is there. It was just a nightmare—a sick, reoccurring nightmare, going entirely off memory.
I grab one of the pain pills the doctor prescribed from my nightstand and swallow it down with some water. The dull ache in my head and my chest are something I’m practically used to by now, but I’d rather not feel it at all.
My first fight last Saturday night didn’t exactly go according to plan. I wasn’t nearly as ready as I should have been, and I damn near lost. If it hadn’t been for the knockout punch I managed to throw with the last burst of energy I had, I probably would have.
After it was over and Cal got done counting his cut of the money, Grayson brought me over to North Haven Medical. We had to make a dumb-ass excuse—something about fucking around when I shouldn’t have been and falling off a roof. I don’t think they bought it, but they didn’t ask any further questions.