Take Me Down (The Knight Brothers 2)

“She made them every Christmas,” he said, hearing his own wistful tone. “We left them out for Santa.”

Emily smiled at his memory. “I’ll make them for you one day if–” She shook her head.

If you’re still here went unsaid.

“Can I take this to mean you’re not mad at me anymore?” he asked, leaning in on one arm.

She poured the brownie mix into the pan and sighed. “I was never mad at you. At first I was just scared to death. Then I was frustrated with Dad and the situation. You being here, supporting his dream doesn’t help. But I’m not angry at you.”

The heaviness in his chest eased. But he was going to throw her an even more difficult question. He wasn’t sure if he expected an answer, and given he didn’t know if he could answer in return, it wasn’t exactly fair.

“Okay then, good. What about before we came back? Are you still running from what we felt?”

She’d stuck a chocolate-covered finger into her mouth, and at the question, her eyes opened wide. The question had been bad timing on his part because his dick hardened at the sight of that finger in her mouth. He wanted her lips wrapped around his cock.

But they had important things to discuss. “Running?” she asked on a squeak.

He pushed himself to standing and strode around the island, coming up to her and pushing her back against the counter. “Running,” he confirmed. “Not physically but emotionally.”

“I can’t let myself get too attached to you, Parker. You’re leaving. Sooner not later. Just because we don’t discuss it doesn’t make it not true. I need to protect myself.”

Her words sliced through him because they were true. Because he hated them. Because she was right and he didn’t want her to be. So he did the only thing he could do in the moment.

“But we have now.” He reached for the bowl and slid his finger through the chocolate.

Then, pulling up her tee shirt, he found her braless, which worked for what he had planned. He coated both of her nipples with the mixture, smearing it over the buds and her areolas, then dipped his head and began to lick her clean.

He suckled on the sweet treat, pulling the beaded tip into his mouth and releasing it with a pop, swirling his tongue around and around until one side was clear. Afterward, he turned his attention to the other side, giving it the same treatment, reveling in the soft sighs of pleasure and outright moans of delight that came from the back of her throat as he aroused her with his mouth and tongue.

Her hips rocked from side to side along with his licks and caresses, and he pressed his hips against hers, grinding himself against her sex. She hooked one leg around his thigh and thrust herself against him, rubbing into him until she came on a cry. He captured the sound in his mouth, and dammit if he didn’t come, too, in his pants like he was fucking sixteen years old.

Cheeks flushed, she slid off him. “Well, that was something.” She laughed. “Did we really just…?”

“Yeah. We did.”

Grinning, he walked over to the sink and turned on the water. “You wash your hands. I’m running to the bathroom. Then I’ll come back and help you clean up the mess in here.”

He walked out and she rinsed off her hands and got the baked goods into the oven. Parker returned and they took care of the baking tins and flour that was everywhere, cleaning up and talking while the bread and brownies baked, falling into bed late and sleeping in the next day.

Together.

* * *

The next morning, her baking for Harper’s shop complete, Emily rushed around the kitchen, finishing up last-minute details before she could leave to go into town. Harper had texted her that she needed to talk to her – alone – and it was important. So she wanted to get moving.

But it was her father’s first morning after his fall and she needed to see for herself that he was okay. He still had the white bandage on his head but he seemed to be mobile and doing well. He tipped back his coffee mug and looked ready to rise.

“Dad, don’t get up. I’ll get you more coffee,” Emily said, grabbing his mug and walking over to the Keurig.

“She knows I’m not an invalid, right?” James asked Parker, who sat beside him at the kitchen table, sipping his own cup in silence.

“She’s worried about you after your fall. Humor her,” Parker suggested.

He was right. She was concerned. But that didn’t mean they needed to talk about her like she wasn’t in the room.

“She is right here and doesn’t appreciate being talked about in the third person.” After pushing the brew button, she finished wrapping the last of her muffins she needed to take over to Harper’s for the breakfast rush.