Knox (Chicago Blaze 4)

What will I do if we get to my apartment and he asks if he’s coming in? Or if he asks whether he should have the driver wait or…

I don’t know how I’ll make my mouth say the word “no” to him. His words about unbuttoning his tux are still ringing in my ears.

I’ve got a lot of thinking to do about the New York job offer, and also about Knox. But tonight, I’m happy. Tonight is about Knox stepping up to help with something big that was important to me.

There’s nothing I’d rather do than spend the night in bed with him. In Kauai, he made me forget everything but us. I laughed, relaxed and had mind-blowing orgasms just days after finding out my fiancé was cheating on me in the worst possible way.

Until now, I’ve never really thought about how amazing it was that Knox was able to get my mind off of what happened at my almost-wedding. It was an incredible couple of days living in the moment.

I could do that again tonight. I want to do that again tonight. Take Knox inside with me and check all my worries at the door, just until tomorrow. I want him to remind me what it’s like to give and receive sexual pleasure, because it’s been so long since we were together that way.

When the driver pulls up to my curb, I smile over at Knox and ask, “Want to come in?”

He gives me a sexy grin in return. “Very much, but I’m just gonna walk you up.”

“I’ll be right back,” he says to the driver.

My cheeks warm, but this time, it’s with embarrassment. Did I just get rebuffed by the man who’s been chasing me for weeks? I’m more than confused as I step out of the car and he walks me up the outer stairs of my building.

“Um, when I asked if you wanted to come inside, I meant like, come inside,” I say, looking over at him to gauge his reaction.

His eyes flare with what looks like arousal. “And I’d like nothing more, but not tonight.”

I don’t let my aggravation show. Apparently this is how it’s gonna be for us. When he wants me, I don’t want him, and when I want him, he’s not interested in me. Or if we do happen to both be interested, we’re living many states apart.

“Well, goodnight,” I say shortly, fishing through my bag.

I’ve just wrapped my hands around my house keys when Knox wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me in for a long, slow kiss. The cool fall night breeze doesn’t even feel cold as he tugs on my lower lip with his teeth just slightly and keeps kissing.

I’m breathless by the time he finally groans softly and pulls away.

“Let me know when you’re free for that date,” he says, kissing my forehead and then stepping back.

As soon as his hands are off my waist, I miss them. But I keep my composure, unlocking the door to my building and managing to tell him goodnight. I’m dizzy—both from the kiss and from wanting him so badly—but I don’t let on.

“See you soon, Reese,” he says, closing the door to my building behind me.

I hear him tug on the handle to make sure it’s locked, and I smile. He really is a protector through and through.

Once inside my apartment, I slip out of my heels and grab a pint of Ben and Jerry’s from my freezer, taking a big bite before I go into my bedroom to change into sweats.

Ice cream isn’t the way I planned to forget my cares tonight. But it’ll have to do.Chapter SeventeenKnoxThree weeks later

I dive, my mouth wide open as I just barely catch the apple cinnamon Cheerio Reese threw before I hit the floor with an enormous thud.

“Unreal,” Reese grumbles.

I laugh, turning onto my back and putting my hands behind my head. “I told you, this is my jam.”

“You’re gonna end up dislocating something,” Reese says, putting on her reading glasses before looking down at the recipe in the cookbook on her small kitchen island. “I won’t be held responsible for it.”

“Somebody’s cranky,” I quip. “If I can handle 230 pounds of solid muscle running into me like a freight train on a sheet of ice, I think I can manage to catch a few Cheerios in my mouth without getting hurt.”

Reese points at me with a wooden spoon. “All I ask is that I get to be there when you tell your coach you pulled your groin diving for a Cheerio.”

“Won’t happen.” I get up from the floor and grab the box of Cheerios from the island, sliding it toward her. “Throw another one.”

“No.”

“Come on.”

She glares at me. “I’m busy making a breakfast casserole for eight, which you’ll immediately eat half of without gaining an ounce.”