Knox (Sexy Bastard #3) (10 page)

And so is trying to out-wait her at bedtime.

Avery hits the sack around the punch-spiking mark, ever the good scout. Then the couples turn in, Ryder and Cassie folding somewhere near the end of the Hell’s Angels story.

“Guys, we’re going to head to bed,” Cassie says, chucking her stick into the fire. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”

“Too late,” Ruby says.

She turns back our way. “And too bad for them. They’re going to miss out on the story of the counselor who got fired for helping us smuggle in candy and booze.”

Savannah folds her arms around Cash and yawns. Knox scrolls through tweets on his phone as Ruby prattles on.

She loses two more members of her audience as Savannah and Cash peel off a few minutes later.

“Sugar coma,” Savannah says with a wink in my direction. It’s clear the two of them aren’t going to be sleeping anytime soon.

Knox and I exchange looks. I love my Ruby, but at this moment all I want to do is feed her a fast-acting sleeping pill and watch her go out like a light. There’s a knot in my stomach that won’t unravel until I can get my hands on this hunk of flesh and bone I’ve been think about all week. He’s close enough to touch, but the charade we’re keeping up means I have to keep my hands to myself.

Ruby’s worked her way to the current season of
The Real Housewives
when Knox pockets his phone and stands up. “Ladies, looks like I’ll be retiring to my room—scratch that, to my couch.”

Crap.

I guess we’re giving up.

Damn you, Ruby.

Well, I may as well get in a good night’s sleep. “I’m pretty tuckered out too,” I say, stretching my arms over my head.

But Ruby’s having none of it.

“Noooooooo. We never get to hang out like this! Please stay and keep me company.”

Sigh. Okay, Ruby. One more beer.

Half an hour later the redheaded succubus has finally released me from her hold, and we’re tiptoeing through the living room on our way up to our quarters. I look over at the mass of blankets on the couch but can’t make out any movement in the dark. Is he really asleep, after all this buildup?

Maybe the tension wasn’t as thick as I was imagining.

I halfheartedly wash my face and brush my teeth and head off to bed.

“Good night Shelby,” Ruby hisses in her trademark stage whisper. And then it doesn’t take a minute before she’s completely out, softly snoring in a familiar rhythm I learned to tune out many years ago.

I’m nearly out myself when my phone buzzes.

A text from Knox.

Did you seriously fall asleep on me?

Not a chance. I carefully climb out from under the covers and tiptoe down the stairs.

S
helby’s mouth
grazes my skin as her head moves down my chest. I stiffen with the anticipation of her sweet mouth around my hard cock.

Nothing like a couch hookup to make a man feel young again. Until the sound of your buddy’s bed creaking as he rolls over in the bedroom ten feet away . . . makes your heart damn near stop beating. We both freeze in mid-entanglement, our eyes on the door to his room.

Turns out I’m not a teenager anymore.

“Let’s get out of here,” I whisper to Shelby, reluctantly pulling her up from under the covers. “I want to be able to fuck you without worrying about our neighbors.” My teeth toy at her neck. “And I want to be able to hear you moan when you come.”

“Any motels nearby?” she asks, raising her brown eyes to meet mine as she hovers over me in a crouch.

“We’ll figure something out.” I slip my hand down the front of her shirt, pulling it over her head and feeling her nipples harden under my touch as I suck on her juicy lower lip. “After all, I’ve got the keys to that truck parked in our front yard.” She gasps gently as I land a soft smack on her ass, feeling her taut flesh reverberate from my slap. Mm.

I make up for it by kissing the top of her head as I pull on some jeans and grab my wallet. Then I wrap her up in the blanket and carry her out to the porch.

“Don’t I need my clothes?” she points out, as she’s down to just her lace thong and bra beneath the blanket.

“Definitely not.” I smirk.

Her arms clasped around my neck, she looks up at me with a crooked smile on her face. “Help, I’m being kidnapped by a truck thief,” she stage-whispers, not loud enough to actually wake any of our friends.

“That’s right,” I growl. “Scream and you ride in the trunk.”

She raises an eyebrow at me. “I thought you wanted me to scream.”

My grin widens. “Fair point. Okay, scream and you’ll be relegated to the back seat, where I’ll have to punish you for it.”

Her lashes flutter in feigned innocence. “Only if you promise to make the punishment worth my while.”

“Oh trust me slugger, that’s the plan.”

We make it about twenty feet down the dirt road away from the cabin, her still curled up in the blanket in the passenger seat, when she reaches across the center console to grab my thigh. “You’re too far away,” she protests as the blanket falls off her shoulder, revealing one bare arm.

Pretty soon her hand slides further up my thigh, until she wraps it around the outline of my very hard cock. I feel myself straining through the fabric of my jeans as I respond to her touch.

Fuck the motel idea.

I stop dead at the entrance to a dead-end road out on the far end of the lake.

“I really, really wish this weren’t Jackson’s car,” she says as she unclasps her seatbelt. “But desperate times call for desperate measures.”

Desperate is right. The last time I spent so many waking hours fantasizing about putting my dick in a girl, I
was
a teenager. But ever since we reunited, my head has been tuned to the Shelby channel 24/7.

“Shelby, I can’t stop thinking about you. Constantly,” I say as I slip my hand down between her legs, finding bare skin in place of the panties I thought she’d been wearing.

Oh. There they are. Puddled on the floor beneath the blanket that she’s now shedding.

My cock throbs like it’s about to explode.

“Same goes for you,” she admits. She opens her mouth to let out a breath and I bend down to meet her in a hot and urgent kiss. I place my palm flat against her warm wetness, and she lets out another one of her sweet little gasps. Knowing she’s so ready for me makes this even hotter. I feel my cock straining for relief, but after all this waiting I want to make this count. I pull her close to me and suck her nipple into my mouth, holding onto her other breast like a drowning man with a lifeboat.

Shelby reaches down into my jeans and grabs a hold of me, sending a jolt through my cock and balls and up my spine. Without waiting for me to react, she pulls my hand away from her pussy and runs her fingers along the length of her own slit. It’s hot as hell to watch. Then, adding fuel to the fire, she grabs my rock hard dick with those same fingers and rubs her wetness all over me.

Fuck.
That’s a dirty ass move, and I mean that in the very best way. Feeling her juices on me, being this close to her pussy almost sends me over the edge.

“How does it feel, knowing how wet I am?” Shelby looks up at me with her dark eyes gleaming in the moonlight, and I nearly lose all remaining control over myself.

I respond by ripping the blanket off of her, baring her to the night. Her golden skin glows in the moonlight, her erect nipples standing at attention. My eyes trace the lines of her body for a minute, and then I can’t take it anymore—I have to have her. I open my door and walk around the truck with a raging hard on. Opening her door, I pick her up and she holds on monkey style while I take us to the back. With a finesse I didn’t think I had, I open up the back door without hitting us in the head, and lay her out like she is my own personal buffet. I stare at her for just a moment with a bit of wonder and awe, then I bury my face between her legs, lapping up her delicious juices, loving the taste of her as she bucks beneath my tongue.

I lick her until she’s just about to come, calling out my name as her breathing grows deeper, her moans growing louder and more desperate. She’s not holding back, and I don’t have to either. I pull myself up, drop my jeans and boxer briefs to my ankles, slap on a condom and thrust into her in what feels like one smooth motion. She’s so wet that I slide all the way in to the hilt, her warm walls contracting around me, so tight and so fucking smooth. She spreads her legs and tells me to go deeper. I grab her hips for traction and plunge my dick deeper into her pussy, feeling her pure nirvana as I thrust deeper and deeper.

“Fuck me harder,” she gasps, and I ram into her the way she wants, as deep as I can go and harder every time she cries out. I am driving into her so hard I’m almost worried I am going to do permanent damage to my dick or her pussy, but the look on her face tells me this is exactly the type of fucking she wants.

I fuck her until we both come screaming, an explosion of sensation that shuts down my brain and shrinks down my world to the chemical reaction that’s taking place between me and Shelby right now. She wraps her legs tightly around my waist, holding me inside her while her breathing quiets down, her pussy still shuddering around my cock.

Shelby’s wearing this sexy little smirk, her eyes glinting with lust. With her hair all tussled and that look of pure satisfaction, she’s got me ready for another inning in no time.

God, I love fucking this girl.

I
’m still thinking
about her the next morning as I slip out of the house for my morning run. The whole way through the woods, she’s all I can picture. Her pursed lips tight around my shaft last night. Her ass bouncing in front of me when I flipped her over the backseat to thrust into her from behind for round two.

By the time I make it back to the cabin, I’m rock hard again, and there’s signs of life inside, so I’m forced to do something else to work off the remaining energy, before anyone else wakes up.

Fuck
.

Any idea how hard it is to run through sets of pushups while thinking about slamming your dick into a warm, wet pussy? It doesn’t exactly help quell the raging hard-on.

I’m on my third set of reps on the porch when I hear the sound of laughter coming from the kitchen. Sounds like the breakfast crew has risen. I take a deep breath and gather my wits (and redirect a good portion of blood-flow to my brain).

Actually, it’s a good thing they’re awake. I’m hungry as hell.

“Didn’t realize The Rock would be joining us this weekend,” Savannah says, raising an eyebrow at my abs as I lift my shirt to wipe the sweat off my face.

“You know pro athletes,” Shelby replies with a smirk in my direction. “They can’t take a single day off. Always have to be working themselves to the bone, even on their supposed vacations.”

She’d know a little something about how I work to the bone. I shoot her a daring glance while I chug a glass of water before filling a mug with hot coffee.

“To be honest, I wish I could be that disciplined,” Savannah admits as she refills her own coffee.

“I’m more than happy to put you girls through my routine tomorrow morning.” I flash a grin at Shelby in particular.

“Thanks but no thanks,” Ruby says. “I came here to hide from my personal trainer.”

“No hardcore exercising for me either,” Cassie says, “but I was thinking about a walk around the lake. Who’s with me?”

“Might as well enjoy the peace and quiet before the rest of the boys wake up,” Savannah adds.

“You guys go,” Shelby says, avoiding my glance. “I’ll get breakfast started.”

“I’ll help,” I say. “I make a mean pancake.”

Circumstances may have prevented a round of hot morning sex, but looks like we’ll be making breakfast together. Who says romance is dead?

“Just don’t put any protein bullshit in it,” Ruby says as they head out.

Shelby smiles at me and heads over to the fridge, setting ingredients out on the counter. Once the coast is clear I come up from behind, wrapping my arms around the curve of her waist as I plant a trail of kisses along the soft skin of her neck.

“Good morning to you,” she says, turning around to meet my mouth in a kiss. I could get used to this.

We get down to the business of breakfast, Shelby prepping pancake batter while I chop onions for a scramble.

“So you’re getting ready for spring training?”

I guess we won’t be making small talk about last night’s campout, and that’s probably for the best. I follow Shelby’s lead and chop up bell pepper while we chat about my fitness regimen.

“Just trying to keep up the baseline levels of strength and flexibility so that I’m not thrown off once we head into the season.” The threat of injury has been on my mind lately, and I find myself opening up to Shelby about how much pitchers in particular tend to stress about rotator cuff and elbow injuries. One bad throw, and your whole career could be over in the blink of an eye, with the tear of a ligament.

“I have to go in for regular check-ups. Especially lately, when something’s just felt a little . . . off, with my throw. Not sure what, exactly.” I reach for the butter, slice a thick pat into the pan. “There’s just so much that can go wrong, you know? When you pitch at the speeds I do, the tiniest loss of mobility, a microsecond of reflex response, it makes all the difference. It’s all that stands between success and an early retirement.”

She’s watching me with an unreadable expression, something almost sad. Her hand brushes my shoulder, then squeezes tight. It’s not a sexual touch, for once, but a gentle, comforting one. “I know I for one would be extremely upset if that sexy body of yours ever suffered,” she adds, and just like that, the sexual tension floods right back into the kitchen.

I reach for her, but she’s already crossing the room to the flour on the counter, measuring out a cup with her back turned to me, as if she’s totally unaffected by the energy pulsing in the room, the energy that flares up every time we’re together.

Fine. Two can play at that game.

“Well, I’ll try to keep my cock undamaged for you,” I reply as I turn my back on her, pulling eggs out of the fridge.

Next thing I know, something hits me in the ass. She did not.

I look down. Yep. She just threw the dishtowel at me. I step over it and cross the room to catch her arm, right before she tosses an oven mitt. She grins up at me, my fist wrapped around her wrist. I step toward her, leaning her back, pinning her against the wall of the kitchen. Her body arches up toward mine, her tits digging into my chest.

“I’m hungry as shit,” someone shouts from the neighboring room.

We fly apart faster than if someone had thrown boiling water at us. Shelby grabs the bowl of flour and flies across to the counter where I’d laid out the eggs and additional butter. Before I can move, she’s dumping them all together, whisking it hard. She’s still stirring when Cash enters the kitchen, yawning and stretching his arms over his head.

“What’s for breakfast?”

“Pancakes,” I say as I turn and grab the milk from the fridge for her. “That is, if there’s any left over for you lazy bastards once we’re done eating.”

“Very funny,” he grumbles, with a sharp glance between the two of us. I don’t like the look of that. Not at all.

I
climb
into Jackson’s truck to head out for a mid-afternoon beer run. Supplies are running dangerously low. Time to replenish the stockpile.

I’m turning the key in the ignition when Shelby walks up to the truck. She props an elbow on my open window, squinting in the afternoon light. “Care for some company?” she asks. I glance back at the cabin, already wondering what Cash might think if he notices we’ve gone together. But we only have this one weekend and next free from Jackson’s supervision. Free to soak up as much of one another as we possibly can.

So fuck it.

“Climb aboard, slugger.”

She hops in and we drive to the town’s main street, a tiny two-block stretch of ramshackle mom-and-pop shops.

The door to the liquor store creaks as it swings open on rusty hinges.

“Small town charm,” I say to Shelby as we nod to the dozing geezer manning the counter.

“And small town snacks,” Shelby responds, pausing in front of a shelf loaded with off-brand junk.

She grabs a couple of bags of pork rinds, her eyes wide with delight.

“Classy,” I say, arching an eyebrow.

“We might get hungry in the car,” she says. “And then you’ll be glad.”

I’m not arguing, even if it is a fifteen-minute ride—she seems pretty attached to those rinds.

“A couple six-packs of amber, same on Bud Light?” I ask as we head to the back of the store.

“Sounds good.”

But her fingers trail against the refrigerator’s cold glass door as I bend down to grab the beers out of the case.