“Yeah.” I reached for my bowl but he took it from my hands, putting it exactly where it had been.
When he stood, his face was unreadable, his expression closed. “Did you like dinner?”
“It was amazing.” Everything he made was amazing.
“Good. Now look around.”
The kitchen was a disaster. He had grease splatters on his shirt, and flour dusted his jeans. The counters and stove would need a thorough scrubbing. The floors would need to be mopped and the dishwasher run.
“The craziest days in the kitchen end with food on every surface. Those are the days when I walk out the door so exhausted I can barely keep my eyes open on the drive home. Passion comes from the mess, Memphis.” He threaded his hands into my hair. “So does everything lasting.”
My frame sagged. “You deserve—”
“You.”
“I was going to say better.”
“No. I deserve you. Because I want you. And damn it, I earned you. All the shit I went through. The hell you endured. Who fucking cares if it’s messy?” He flicked a wrist around the room. “It’s exactly the way it should be.”
“But—”
“Goddamn it, Memphis. Stop arguing with me.” In a flash he picked me up and set me on the island. A fork went sailing, clattering to the floor. Then he stepped in between my legs, holding my gaze, our noses touching. “Let me make this clear. You are mine. Drake is mine. For all of your todays and each of your tomorrows. Mine. Do you not want me?”
“Of course I want you.”
“Then fucking kiss me.”
I put my hands to his face but as he leaned in, I pushed him back. Because I had something to say too. “I’m scared.”
“No shit.”
I rolled my eyes. “I go a little crazy.”
“So what?” He leaned in again, this time more insistent. “Go crazy. Be scared. You won’t chase me away.”
There was a dare in his voice. Like he knew I wanted to doubt him so he dared me to try. He dared me to push because he wouldn’t walk away.
“You’re mine too,” I whispered.
“I know.” He leaned in and this time I let him capture my lips. He stroked his tongue across my lower lip and when I opened for him, he delved inside, not hesitating for a moment as he swept me into his arms and carried me down the hallway to the bedroom.
The jeans and long-sleeved tee I’d worn were stripped off instantly, leaving me in nothing but a black bra and panties. I freed the button on his jeans as he reached behind his neck and yanked his shirt over his head.
My hands roamed over the strong muscles of his chest, falling to the rippled stomach and the cut lines around his hips. Beyond the windows, the snowstorm raged. Here, us, together, we were ablaze.
Knox banded an arm around my back as his tongue and lips devoured me, never breaking free as he kept me pinned against his warm skin. With his other hand, he delved beneath my panties, his long fingers finding my center.
He stroked through my wet folds, torturing me with his touch.
I gasped against his mouth as I began to tremble. He toyed with me, plunging a finger inside as he rubbed my clit. My hips rocked against his hand, matching his rhythm.
“Knox,” I whimpered.
“Come on my fingers. Then you can have my cock.” He dipped his lips to my neck, latched on and sucked as he pumped his fingers in and out, stroking my inner walls until I was panting.
I lifted a leg, hooking it around his hip, as my arms looped around his neck and I held on, riding his hand as he finger fucked me. Stars exploded behind my vision and I came on a cry, a burst of pleasure so pure I couldn’t do anything but feel.
“Fuck, but that is hot.” He nibbled on my earlobe as the aftershocks rang through my limbs. Then he unwrapped me from his body and laid me on the bed, stripping off my panties and bra.
He popped his finger into his mouth, humming at my taste, then he pushed my legs apart so I was spread wide. “Don’t move.”
I nodded, lifting my hands to my pebbled nipples and giving them a tug.
“Again.” Knox stood at the end of the bed and watched.
I pulled at my nipples, loving the flare in his eyes. “Like this?”
“Again.”
I smiled and kept toying with them as he stepped out of his jeans, his thick arousal bobbing free.
He wrapped his fist around the velvet shaft, stroking it over and over as he watched me play. A bead of come formed at his crown and I licked my lips. “You want your mouth on me, Memphis?”
“Yes,” I breathed.
“Later. Tonight, I’m going to come on your pretty tits.”
My breath hitched again.
“Touch your clit.”
I let go of one breast, dropping it to the hardened nub between my legs. The second I touched myself, my back arched off the bed.
“Don’t close your legs,” Knox ordered.
I kept them wide as he settled between them, kneeling above me.
His hand on his shaft never stopped working as he pumped. The other hand swatted my fingers away from my center. “Touch your nipples.”
I obeyed. Instantly. In the bedroom. In life. Whatever pleasure I brought him, he’d give it back ten times over.
His hand found my clit again, and he matched the rhythm of his strokes on us both, working me up until I could barely breathe.
“That’s it, honey. Come again.”
I detonated, my eyes squeezing shut as the orgasm racked through my body.
Knox groaned and did exactly as promised. He came on my belly and my breasts. I watched as ecstasy washed over his handsome face. As his Adam’s apple bobbed with his release. As he came undone. For me.
A shiver rolled over his shoulders as he opened his eyes. Then he gave me a sexy, devilish smirk. “Now you’re a mess.”
His mess.
In that mess, there was passion.
In that passion, we were perfect.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
MEMPHIS
Knuckles had never looked so magical. This restaurant was meant to be full of people, and not a single table sat empty. From the moment I’d stepped through the door, the noise had swallowed me whole. The clink of silverware. The rumble of conversation. The boom of unrestrained laughter.
The scent of spices and herbs lured me deeper into the space. Roasted turkey. Creamy potatoes. Tangy cranberries. Sage stuffing and sweet cornbread. My stomach growled.
Drake felt the excitement in the air and let out a little squeal, kicking his legs as we slipped past the hostess station.
Some of the people eating their Thanksgiving feast were guests I recognized from the hallways of the hotel. Others were locals, most faces I didn’t know. But someday, like Knox, I hoped to walk through here and know most people by name.
I pushed through the swinging door to the kitchen, expecting chaos. Instead, I was greeted by more laughter as Roxanne, Skip and Knox stood around the gleaming prep table. The teenager who washed dishes was stacking clean plates.
“Am I in the right place?” I asked.
Knox chuckled and came over, lifting Drake from my arms. Then his mouth was on mine, his tongue sweeping across my lips.
I blinked, taken aback by the kiss, but then I lifted my hands to his face to hold on, laughing as he growled and let me go. “Whoa. Now there’s a hello.”