Take Me Again (The Knight Brothers 1)

She came to herself, her panties around her calves, Sebastian’s hand petting her sex, his gaze hot on hers. And his cock throbbing insistently against her legs in his lap.

“Hey,” he said, a pleased grin on his face.

“What a way to tour San Francisco,” she said.

He burst out laughing before helping her shimmy back into her underwear.

* * *

Sebastian watched as Ashley pulled herself together, lowering her dress and sitting up, his own body still on edge from the pleasure he’d provided her. Shaken by the enjoyment he’d gotten from giving her a climax that clearly rocked her world. He was all about tit for tat, giving and receiving during sex, because it was the gentlemanly thing to do. The obligatory thing to do. But there’d been nothing forced about his need to make Ashley come.

What had started as easing her foot pain had become a compulsion. A need to touch and possess her in the most intimate of places. But not one that had blocked out rational thought – he’d needed her permission, needed her approval after all they’d been through before.

But once she’d given him the green light? Touching her had been as necessary to him as breathing. Watching her come had given him as much pleasure as his own orgasm ever had.

When she reached for the waistband of his pants, she startled him, and he grabbed her wrists, stopping her. “No.”

“No?” she asked, sounding surprised.

He shook his head. “We have a complicated history, you and I. And this? This was about me giving something to you. Not taking anything back in return.”

Holy shit. Who was he and what had happened to his usual MO? Sebastian wondered. In and out. One and done. Mutual sexual acts before moving on … unless the woman he was with understood there was no future to be had.

Because none had been Ashley.

Shit.

He didn’t want her hand on his cock because he needed to fucking think about what he wanted from her. From them.

Before she could reply, her cell phone, which she’d left on the seat of the car, began to ring.

He glanced at the piece of equipment, annoyed by its interruption.

“Ignore it,” she said, obviously still startled by his pronouncement.

So was he.

He glanced at the screen on her phone.

Johnathan.

Fuck. “He doesn’t give up, does he?” Sebastian asked.

Cheeks flushed, Ashley met his gaze. “I told him no,” she said, more to herself than to him.

“No to what?” Sebastian was suddenly on alert.

Ashley sucked her bottom lip into her mouth before answering. “No to his proposal,” she whispered.

He felt his eyes open wide, his heart squeeze inside his chest until he found it hard to breathe. “Well, some guys need to be told twice. Idiots, obviously,” he muttered, shaken by the fact that some other guy had proposed to the woman he was just getting to know again. The woman he wasn’t ready to let go. “Sounds like you need to tell him no again, this time so he hears you loud and clear.”

She narrowed her gaze at him. “What makes you the expert on relationships, anyway?” she asked, the phone having gone silent between them.

“Nothing. I’ve never had one, to be honest,” Sebastian said.

“Exactly.” She straightened her shoulders, sounding triumphant. As if she had him figured out, when, he realized, even he didn’t understand himself at all.

He studied her pretty face. “You sound smug. Like you know all there is to know about relationships while I know nothing.”

“Seems that way, doesn’t it?” she asked.

He let out a low laugh. “Not in the least.” But he wasn’t surprised she couldn’t see the truth for herself.

She crossed her legs, squeezing her thighs together, and glared at him, obviously waiting for him to explain, so he did.

“At least I know if I’m ever going to have a relationship, I’ll have to figure it out for myself. Because my father sure as hell didn’t set a good example. In fact, no woman’s ever been worth the effort to even try, so I go from fuck buddy to fuck buddy.”

“And you’re proud of that fact?” She sounded horrified.

He shook his head. “But at least I know why I do what I do. Can you say the same? Your mother set a shitty example, too, but instead of going from guy to guy, you let one lucky bastard wine and dine you, never letting him get close. Seems to me the end result is the same.” He folded his arms across his chest, certain he’d made his point. And in case he didn’t, he added, “You might date nice guys but your walls are as high as mine.”

“Stop the car.” She banged on the plexiglass separating them from the driver.

The winder lowered. “Can I help you?” the driver asked.

“We’re still in downtown San Francisco, right?” she asked.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Then stop the car. I want to get out.”