Page 127 of Knox Unleashed
Stretching my arms up over my head, I almost drop my phone into a pot of solvent when it vibrates in my hand and startles me.
I grab it at the last second, my heart racing, and catch sight of the screen.
Knox.
A helpless smile tugs at my lips as I open it. It’s schmaltzy and movie-worthy to be this happy just at the sight of his name, right?
Knox:I wish you were awake.
Knox:Whole damn country just rolled into my yard today.
Knox:Over thirty bikers. Bikes everywhere. It’s a fucking lot.
Knox:But I wish you were next to me right now in this bed.
I can almost imagine him standing in the middle of the chaos, taking responsibility for it all.
Me:That sounds overwhelming. Why did they come?
Knox:You’re awake. One sec.
My phone rings with a video request, and I answer it.
“You look good with paint on your cheek, sweetheart,” he says. His eyes are a little bloodshot, his speech a little slurry, and he’s on his bed in the clubhouse.
“I guess it’s a good party.” I know asking about club business is a no-no. And perhaps asking him about it while he’s drunk is a violation, but I need to know why all those men being there matters. “Are you going after the people who hurt Vandal?”
He nods. “Feels good…like we’re not alone in this. Don’t want them hurting you.”
Something in my chest squeezes at that. “And I don’t want you getting hurt trying to stop people hurting me. But I’m proud of you. For looking out for us all and taking a stand.”
His gaze changes, softens. “Careful.” The word is gruff. “Keep looking at me like that and I might forget I have a club full of men expecting me to lead them into a fight, get on my bike, and come chow down on that pussy of yours for a while.”
I wander to the bedroom and flop down on the bed, trying desperately to ignore the tug at my core at mentions of what he’d like to do to me.
“Are you wearing one of my shirts?” he asks.
“I wanted to feel close to you while I painted us tonight.”
His mouth opens for a second. “Wait? You painted us?”
I nod. “In the shower. It’s abstract, like all my other work, but…I painted it for down there.” I point toward the hallway. “Thought it would look nice opposite the door to the bathroom.”
He closes his eyes and flops his head back against the wall. “Fuck, can’t normally get a boner when I’m this drunk.” Hishand slips out of sight, between his legs. “You wearing anything else besides my shirt?”
I shake my head. “I put it on after my shower. Which inspired the shower painting.”
He lets out a low, devilish laugh. “Jesus, Maren. You’re gonna be the death of me. You okay if I jerk one out while we chat?”
It sounds so unromantic, and…yet… “As long as I can do the same.”
His eyes open at that. “Yeah. You want to?”
“Talk to me, Knox.”
“I’ve been thinking about you all fucking day, which is inconvenient, given I was supposed to be planning how to take a man and his operation apart.”
The reminder of his mission takes the edge off the slow bloom of arousal I feel, but when my fingertips reach my clit, I sigh.
