Page 78 of Knox Academy Omnibus
“Tit for tat, Miss Rossi,” he tells me. “If I have to suffer through this, so do you.”
“Fine! But this counts as my song, okay?”
“If you say so,” he smirks as Kalen bounds over to us and grabs my hand to pull me up on stage. The song starts up and Kalen starts belting out “Valerie” by The Zutons, only he’s butchering the Amy Winehouse/Mark Ronson version. I’m laughing too hard to really add much to the song anyway. When he gets to the chorus he turns to me and yells the wrong words at the top of his lungs.
“Why don’t you come on over, Amelie!”
“Erm, it's Valerie you dumbass,” I hiss.
“Amelie,” he croons. “I like my version better.” He turns to the crowd of drag queens all dancing to the song and crows, “do you prefer my version?”
The crowd lets up an almighty roar and by the next chorus Kalen has the whole bar singing to me. My face is on fire butmy face hurts from smiling. We finish our number and vacate the stage, as the nipple-tasseled diva drags a very silky looking Sawyer past us.
The opening beat to “Lady Marmalade” comes on and the remaining Knox brothers fall apart laughing. I try to hold back a smile to be kind to Sawyer - who is basically being used as a pole for Nips (as I’ve affectionately named her) to dance against - but I can’t contain it. His utter mortification has my sides hurting. Tears roll down my cheeks as the song ends with Nips planting an absolute smacker on Sawyer’s lips.
“Oh. My. God,” I gasp as Sawyer joins us, scowling.
“Shut up,” he mutters. He doesn’t see the funny side at all, especially when Kalen holds up a small video camera and waves it in front of Sawyer’s face, taunting him. “It’s your turn,” he mutters, turning to the twins.
“Got it covered,” Slate replies. He finishes his drink - where can I get one of those? - and heads up to the stage. He looks really uncomfortable up there without any instruments. His eyes lock on mine and he begins to sing a dark gravelly version of ‘I Will Possess Your Heart’ by Death Cab for Cutie. I love the song and he sings it right to me: “I won’t let you...let me down...so easily”. Message received loud and clear. It’s incredibly sexy and right now I just want to find a room and finish what we started on stage earlier.
When he comes off stage, I do something entirely unlike me: I launch myself at him, wrapping my legs around his waist and devouring him with my mouth. Fuck.
“We need to go. Now,” I murmur against his lips. He chuckles but doesn’t complain.
“Consider it done,” he tells me.
Kalen complains loudly behind us as we continue to kiss. There are cheers and whoops all around us, but I couldn’t give afuck. I need Slate. I need him to know that I don’t overlook him, Idosee the potential in us.
“Onyx didn’t sing yet,” Kalen points out.
“Don’t think anyone cares,” he tells Kalen. He sounds happy to get out of it, but there’s something darker underneath too.
I tear myself away from Slate because if I don’t I’m going to be a total cliché and have sex in a limo and as much fun as that would be, not with the other three watching. Although, my twin sandwich fantasy is quickly replaced by one involving more Knox brothers. I shake my head to clear it; there’s no way we could do that.
In the limo on the way back to Laura and Monty’s I make sure I sit across from Slate. I think the distance will be good but it doesn’t work at all, the flame ignited between us just simmers as he stares at me with heated eyes across the darkness of the limo. The others have to be able to taste the sexual tension in the air. They try to make jokes and draw us into the conversation but I can’t concentrate on anything but Slate. I devour him with my gaze; he fucks me with his.
When we get home everyone is quiet, sneaking in to not disturb Laura and Monty.
“Your room or mine?” Slate asks when we’re finally alone.
“Yours. I don’t count that room as mine and I don’t want anything to do with it...unless, you don’t share with Onyx do you?” I ask in horror. He chuckles lightly.
“Not here, babe.”
“Then your room. Right now.” He chuckles again but I don’t have to ask twice as he pulls me upstairs and along the corridor to the furthest door on the left. His room is different shades of grey, tidy, clean and neat. I don’t know if that’s Slate’s doing, or Laura and Monty’s. I don’t care.
Slate tugs me over to the bed and suddenly I’m nervous. The heat from the bar and the limo is still there, but the urgency hasgone. Now that we’re alone in his room, I don’t know how to proceed. Do I just jump him? I feel as awkward as Sawyer was the night I first went to his house. I remember how I teased him about that.
“Stop overthinking, Amelie,” Slate says softly. “There’s no expectations, but I would love it if you stayed the night with me. Nothing has to happen.”
That reignites the simmering embers into a roaring blaze and I launch myself at him again.
“Naked. Now,” I demand as I crush my lips to his. He laughs at me, but doesn’t argue. We’re tearing each others’ clothes off, but once we’re both naked, Slate takes me by surprise by slowing things right down. He stares at my body - scars and all - like he’s committing every flaw to memory. Only, he doesn’t look at me like I’m flawed; he looks at me like I’m goddamn perfect. My heart somersaults in my chest and I swallow the lump in my throat. He caresses and kisses every inch of my skin with reverence, until he has me squirming with impatience and need.
“Slate, please,” I beg. Mercifully he doesn’t fuck around; he reaches into his bedside drawer and pulls out a condom. “Slate!” I groan again. He’s taking too long.
“Shhh, patience, Amelie. I’m not about to fuck and forget you,” he promises, kissing me tenderly.
