KNOT: A Wake Family Novel (36 page)

Was there a possibility I could go? She mentioned earlier she wasn’t sure, but I needed an estimate. “How long will you be gone?”

“I don’t know. Maybe a few months.”

Even though my exterior remained calm, something tightened inside my stomach. I didn’t want her to go, and I couldn’t miss that much work.

It was faint, but I tasted dread.

I’d told her what I needed, and she’d told me—
patience
and
time
. I didn’t have a choice. There wasn’t anything to gain from arguing about something when I had no power to change it.

Since the lake, she’d been all mine. At times, I felt like I was holding her hostage. Denying her what she wanted. That may have been the reason; since then she hadn’t wanted to be around her friends with me. Possibly, she hated seeing what she was missing. This was all speculation.

The scene around the fire pit hadn’t been bad, and I’d been thinking up other ways I could give her more of what she liked—ways that of course included me, too. Ways that stretched my comfort, but I was willing to try.

Also, I could offer her a different kind of support.

“You know that’s some of what I do, right? If you need help with your dad’s affairs, I can do that.”

I’d done more research. He’d own properties around the world, had ties to almost every industry. Hugo Koehl had an empire. I didn’t know all of the details, but she had brothers, and I wasn’t so sure they’d be looking out for her from the little she’d mentioned of them.

“I know. Thank you, but Ives has handled most of that stuff for me for a few years now.” She yawned. “They’ll be there.”

That polarized me.

They’ll be there. I won’t.

She fell asleep with my foot in her hand, and I sat there and thought.

Would she ever need me?

From what I gathered, she didn’t need to work, but did. She hardly relied on anyone, not even when they dumped, from what I could estimate, billions of dollars on her lap. There was nothing I could give her that she couldn’t get on her own.

That was an emasculating feeling.

It wasn’t about gender, but more about the incessant urge to provide for her. To care for her. If I stood any chance, I’d have to find other ways.

Finally, I slept in the chair. To my surprise, it wasn’t uncomfortable, but I woke up early. Earlier than normal.

I stretched out as I walked to her kitchen, deciding since I had plenty of time before work that I’d get a cup of coffee and hoping maybe she’d wake up and feel differently than she had the night before.

Then I wouldn’t have to worry so much all day.

She had been under a lot of stress at work. Add to that the pressure she was burdened with over her family’s estate. She didn’t need me adding to her troubles, and I’d told her that much.

I’d taken my shirt off sometime in the night since I’d gotten hot, only to wake up with a blanket over me. Still in my work pants from yesterday, I stood in her kitchen and rolled an orange while the coffee maker heated up.

I’d said a lot of things last night, but I didn’t regret them. Hell, I’d asked her if she loved me, which neither of us really answered.

One of the best things about the medication I took was I didn’t fret over every single thought. I was able to confidently say things without first scrutinizing them to the point of madness. It took the edge off of my apprehension.

I didn’t feel as sure standing there, but at least I had a plan. One that had taken me hours of watching her sleep to devise.

The noise I made must have woken her up because she padded into her kitchen still rubbing her eyes and sat at the bar dreamily holding her head up on her hands.

“Good morning,” I said.

It felt like we’d survived something, but barely. I’d slept okay, but I didn’t feel like doing much.

Okay, maybe I had two plans.

“Hi,” she croaked.

“Did you sleep well?”

Her arms collapsed, and her head fell to the side landing on her shoulder as she slumped against the marble. She was pathetically adorable.

“No.” She pouted. “I didn’t. I just want to go back to bed.”

This might be easier than I thought.

My flat palm rolled the orange a little more. I loved when the white fascia stuck to the peel, and each piece was rind free. She watched with rapt attention. Or maybe she was sleeping with her eyes open.

Grabbing a knife from the drawer, I slit the skin of the fruit and began undressing it in a spiral motion, shedding it in one long twisted ribbon of peel.

To my surprise, her breathing quickened, and I saw a flush creep up her neck.

I wasn’t off my game. It was unmistakable now, my body knew when hers called.

The changes were always subtle at first. Her lips would part, and she’d gasp ever so slightly. Her shoulders would tense then relax into it. Her eyes would become lust-heavy, blink by beautiful blink.

I observed her as she examined me with my orange, and I liked what I saw.

There were a few white strings that I didn’t particularly want, so I made a show of stripping them off the pulp.

She swallowed and squirmed in her chair.

“Call in to work and tell them you won’t be in, Nora.”

Her eyes didn’t leave the orange. I wasn’t sure she even heard me.

She needed more sleep, but even more, she needed me to hang her off a cliff and let ecstasy catch her.

I slipped my middle finger through the citrus’ center.

“Mmmm,” she hummed. Then, she went directly to her phone, hardly even watching where she was going, and picked it up from the end table by the couch where she’d left it when she hung up on me.

I’d get my pound of flesh for that.

“Hi, it’s Nora. I’m not feeling well today. I’m staying home. I’ll check my email, and work a little from here, if I’m feeling better later. Talk to you tomorrow.” I’d never heard her speak with that tone to anyone but me. That almost meditative voice, like she was in a trance. They’d surely notice the difference and believe her ill.

I turned my back to her and leaned against the counter.

Come to me, baby. Let me know you want me.

She rounded the island with begging eyes and faced me, almost chest to chest. It was a colossal feeling—one worth fighting for.

I pulled a slice from the fruit, and she opened her mouth.

Did she know how it pleased me? Was it a peace offering? It felt like one.

I fed her. One piece at a time.

Yes, let me give you what I can.

She leaned forward with a sticky tongue and licked my throat. I swallowed, and my dick twitched and strained against my pants. Then, she rubbed her thumb over my neck and kissed it.

We spoke at the same time.

“Reggie, I
more
than love you.”

“I want to have a threesome with you.”

We both straightened, gulped for air, and stared at each other. The moment sobered.

I could give her that, if that was what she desired.

Watching the way she nearly came from peeling an orange, that’s what she wanted. She liked visuals, the voyeur she was. If being with someone else—along with her—was something that would put that very same hungry look on her face, then I’d do it.

Like with the orange, I’d feed her what she needed.

What she’d said finally sunk in and swelled inside me. I wasn’t sure what
more than loved me
meant, but I’d sure as fuck take it.
Happily
.

Then anatomical things out of my control happened, and I left them to it.

I carried her down the hall to my apartment—new neighbors be damned. I wasn’t about to fuck her anywhere but in my bed.

She clung to me, and she didn’t let go until we were behind the closed door of my room. I placed her on her feet and spun her around.

As I moved her hair to the side and kissed her neck, I said below her ear, “Baby, raise your arms.” She lifted up and linked them behind our heads, reaching back caused her ass to bend into me. I ran my hand under the front of her shirt, over her stomach and then straight up her arms, where the shirt fell off behind us. Then, I reversed my touch down the same trail, and my hands met in front of her, sinking into her pants.

“I want to take care of you. All. Fucking. Day.”

“Yes,” she panted and rolled her head as I kissed her nape and then her other side.

“I didn’t touch you last night because that’s what you needed.” I bit her earlobe, the notion that she loved me had sent possessiveness and an unstable desire to claim her for my own through my limbs. “But now I need something. I need this in return.”

I ground against her, then pulled her pants down her legs as far as I was willing to reach, and I unbuckled my belt with stealth I didn’t know I was capable of.

“Anything. Yes. Anything,” she quietly chanted.

“I want to fuck you.
Hard
.” I folded us forward. Her hands moved to brace herself against the bed, then on her own, she spread her legs. I fisted my cock, running it through her wet seam, and she lifted onto her toes offering herself to me.

“I need it like this. Then, I’ll take care of you.”

She looked over her shoulder, her hair falling from her face, and begged, “
Please
.”

I pushed into her with such force that I’d went up on my toes, too, and I held myself there. She fell forward, one long moan tossed from her lips. My fingers tight on her hips, my knuckles white.

I’d wondered if I was too rough, if it was too much for her. We’d worked up to punishing rhythms before, but I’d never went at her with this much force straight off. I’d held back each time. That wasn’t within my ability now.

Still, I couldn’t bear the thought of really hurting or scaring her.

Like she’d heard my innermost thoughts, once again she peeked over her shoulder and said, “Don’t stop, Reagan.”

Then I couldn’t have even if I wanted to. I set a pace that was unapologetic. Fucked her like it was my soul purpose for being alive. Had she not gripped me harder than ever before, had she not been wetter than any other time in my memory, I may have hesitated a fraction.

It was undeniable—she wanted it as bad as I wanted to give it to her.

My right hand joined my left on one cheek of her ass, and I pushed into her at an angle that made my eyes fall shut from the pleasure. My hips met flush with her body, over and over and over again.

I was wild for her, proven further by the guttural sounds leaving my throat.

“Give me what I want,” I demanded as I reached up for her shoulder, looking for more leverage still. Even though I was sure I was bruising her.

“God, yes. Fuck me,” she mewled.

She met me thrust for thrust and panted like a similar animal. We showed each other no mercy.

“Don’t slow down, baby. I’m going to come so fucking hard.”

One of her shoulders met the bed as she started to touch us between her legs. Her elbow pumping as she worked her clit.

“I’m coming, Reagan. Oh my God. I’m coming.”

Her back arched, and her head careened back. Watching pleasure tear through her body caused it to savagely rip through mine.

“Ah, fuck. Baby, fuck,” I shouted as I flexed and pushed even harder into her, filling her with all I had. My hips jerking with each pulse as it throbbed through me. “Fuck.”

She slumped forward. Bones in her rib cage expanded and contracted as she heaved, desperate for air.

My hands ran up and down her back, feeling her muscles tighten and release around me. Her spine under my thumbs, I kneaded up and down her ridges. I savored the sporadic spasms she and I shared as we convalesced together.

I lifted one of her legs behind the knee and placed it on the bed, then I did the same with the other. We crawled up the mattress, and I fell away from her as we moved. She collapsed across my bed.

“You more than love me, huh?” I asked, still very much winded.

She giggled, “I guess so.”

It wasn’t exactly what I wanted to hear, but she’d asked for patience and time. I’d give her that, and in exchange, she gave me hope.