Page 6 of Reese’s Protection

“I probably shouldn’t.”

He sighed and nodded, and I kissed him again. He moaned, and the sexy sound raised the hair on my arms.

“Promise me you won’t tell Layton this is my fault,” I whispered between our lips. “And I’ll be more than happy to fuck you.”

“Deal,” he said immediately, then leaned in to kiss me again.

3

REESE

Everything slowed down and narrowed in on this moment, this kiss, and I was soaring high. Knox’s mouth was an addiction, and I fell deeper into a tide of lust with the way his tongue stroked mine. His shoulders tightened when I laid my hands on them, and his arm curled around my waist, dragging me closer. The power in the way he held me should’ve frightened me, especially after the incident with Jeremy, but warmth spread through me instead.

I was safe.

Then, it was all gone as fast as it started when he stepped away.

Alone again, I whimpered and forced my heavy eyelids to open. “What?”

His face softened and the hard lines in his forehead smoothed out. “We can’t do this.”

I frowned. “Why?” I squeezed his shoulders. “I want you to fuck me. I agreed that I won’t tell Layton.”

He put more distance between us. My fingers ached with the urge to reach out again. I craved his touch and the feel of his muscles under my palms.

“You’ve just been through some crazy shit. I’m not going to take advantage of you.” He cleared his throat.

All at once, my dreams of sleeping with him were disappearing.

No, I couldn’t let that happen. I’d fantasized about Knox since the day he’d ridden his motorcycle up to me, sunshine glinting on the chrome, and Layton had introduced us. I couldn’t let this chance slip away.

“I’m an adult, I can take care of myself.” I straightened and swiped my tongue over my lower lip, letting my gaze wander down his sturdy arms and across his broad chest. He had tattoos under the thin white shirt—I’d seen them once when he’d stripped to the waist while he was working on his bike. I’d imagined a million different ways of exploring the ink, and if I didn’t convince him now, I might never get a chance. “Jeremy caught me off guard, but I’m not traumatized by what happened.”

That was a white lie. Jeremy’s determined expression was seared into my brain, and it took every bit of my energy not to flinch at the thought of him. I took a step closer, and Knox didn’t move, so I added his reaction into my “fuck yes” column. We were going to do this.

“I can make my own decisions, and I want your cock in my ass.” I pushed myself up on tiptoe. “I’ll suck you off first, take your hard cock in my mouth,” I whispered into his ear. “I’ll flick my tongue against your slit, tighten my lips around the head until you’re on the verge of unloading down my throat, but then I’ll pull back and ride you until you come in my ass instead.”

Air pushed out of his nose and he stumbled backward, cursing under his breath. “No. Jesus. Not tonight.” He scrubbed a hand over his face and sighed. “If you still wanna do it tomorrow, I’ll fuck you as hard as you want, but you need to calm down after the shit that happened.”

I huffed and crossed my arms. “I won’t change my mind.”

“Good.” He pressed his lips into a thin line, eyebrows furrowing. “I’ll fuck you then. You want some hot chocolate?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “Stay here, I’ll get you a mug.” He strode past me and out the door at the back of the garage that I assumed went into the small house.

I stared at the door as I shook my head. No matter how much I wanted to sleep with him, it wasn’t like I could argue. Knox was rough and gruff, but he was more caring than he’d let on. I’d seen the things he’d done for Layton, and their brotherly relationship made me miss my older brother.

My gaze slid to the Glock he’d set on the coffee table, my stomach roiling at the sight. Robin had died from unnecessary violence—a gang hit that went awry—and I hadn’t touched a gun since. Seeing my brother bleed out on the sidewalk when I was thirteen wasn’t something I could forget. Mom died soon after, leaving me at my aunt’s house until I was old enough for her to kick me out. She’d never liked me to begin with, and appeasing her nosy friends was the only reason she’d taken me in. She hadn’t wanted to look bad. As soon as I hit eighteen? Goodbye, nephew.

“Fuck.” I ran my hands over my face and straightened my spine. I didn’t want to think about this while I was alone with Knox. Memories killed the mood quicker than anything else, even Jeremy. He was a loser, and I accepted that the moment I got out of his house with Layton’s help.

When I dropped my hands from my face, my attention caught on the piece of furniture with the Kings of Men logo etched into it. The coffee table was gorgeous, crafted with precision that only a perfectionist honed. Knox cared about his work, and anyone in their right mind could appreciate that dedication.

I’d never loved something that much in my life. Except getting tattoos. Ink kept me sane when I was spiraling and had become an addiction.

I closed the distance between me and the coffee table, then ran my palm over the smooth wood. It hadn’t been finished yet, but it had been sanded and felt nice under my hand.

Layton had told me about Knox’s talent for building furniture our freshman year of college, and there’d been once or twice when we’d stopped over that he was finishing up a project. He worked on wood like he was in love with it, caressing each piece as if it would tell him its deepest secrets, and I hadn’t realized how easy it was to be jealous of an inanimate object.

“Here.”