Page 53 of Conception
When we get back to the house, Knox makes good on his earlier promise. I’m kind of surprised we even make it to the porch before my shorts are around my ankles, with Knox taking me from me behind. It’s hurried, frenzied, it’s so damn erotic that I lose all my inhibitions and lose myself in him, instead.
If I thought our porch romp was any indication of how the rest of the night would go, I’d be wrong.
Once we’re inside, Knox hits the brakes, slowing things wayyyyy down, no longer in such a hurry. But there’s more where that came from. What we do inside is even more explosive than the night before. Though it shouldn’t surprise me, it does. Not that I thought our being together is a fluke, but instead of me on top or him fucking my brains out, he’s different.
Just like I told Sunny: He iseverything.
He pleasures my body in the laziest fashion, and I mean that in the best way possible. The attention he lavishes only heightens my arousal. Slow, lazy kisses becoming teasing nibbles on my nipples, then my clit, paired with determined strokes of his thumb that threaten to send me over the edge. Each time my orgasm crests, Knox retreats, bringing me slightly back down to Earth only to make me soar once again.
He’s relentless in his pursuit until I threaten to shatter with need if he doesn’t embed himself deep inside me soon. The anticipation drives me wild, and as he takes his time kissing, licking, sucking, and caressing my skin, anticipation grows to new heights. Each sizzling touch, each intoxicating kiss, each shiver-inducing caress sends dizzying sensations throughout my body, and by the time he finally plunges into me with one deliciously deep-seated thrust, I’m putty beneath him.
And this is just the beginning. Knox takes me more times, in more ways, in one night than I’ve ever experienced before.
He takes me; I ride him. From behind, bent over the side of the bed. Me on the edge of the bed while he stands with my legs resting on his shoulders—rendering him impossibly deep inside me, filling me nearly to the point of pain.
Each position proves more explosive than the last, and the more intimately we connect, the more he seeps a bit deeper into my heart. When we’ve finally exhausted ourselves and Knox settles into bed behind me, his arm curling around my waist, I’m flooded with unexpected emotion and it feels like my heart could burst with happiness.
I’m an idiot for thinking I could continue to have meaningless sex with him. Especially now that I’ve gotten to know him—and have found that I like the guy.
I really freaking like the guy.
And I have no idea what the hell I’m going to do.
THINGS FALL INTO PLACE RELATIVELYeasily after Clay leaves to go back home, eager to be with Maria again. Though we’ve already spent most of our time together, Knox no longer feels he has to check in with anyone. He’s focused solely on me, and I’m not going to lie: I’m becoming pretty damn accustomed to it.
Our daily routine, which I’ve come to adore, consists of sleep, sand, sun, sex—wash, rinse, repeat. There’s been no more talk of the future, of the time beyond the summer, and surprisingly, I’m okay with that. Like I told Sunny, while I could see myself becoming addicted to this man, I know it’s physical, and that’s the only type of connection we’re going to forge. And that’s fine by me. I’m more content than I’ve been in far too long, and I plan on making the most of it. Not to mention, between the heat and Knox, I fall into bed exhausted beyond belief every single night and enter a state of pure bliss. My brain doesn’t even have time to race if it wanted to.
After countless nights at my place, I finally cajole Knox into bringing me to his. He warns me, calling it a work in progress, and when I walk through the front door, I burst into a coughing fit.
“Good Lord, Knox. Have you considered dusting lately?”
He grins at me. “Why do you think I invited you over?”
I shoot him a mocking glare then wander through the first floor, taking in the sparsely decorated space. “How long have you owned this place?” I ask, because it appears to be barely lived in. As he’s spent all of his nights with me since Clay left, I’m not surprised, just curious.
He rubs a hand on the back of his neck. “Ah, I found out about just before I came here.”
“You found out about it?”
His hand stops mid-caress, and his gaze falls to the floor before coming to meet mine. Now I’m curious as to the cause of his apprehension, but just like he’s given me time and space to tell him—or, in my case, not—about personal things in my life, I follow suit and keep all my questions to myself.
He turns a kitchen chair around and sits backwards in it. “Long story short, Mom thinks I’m a workaholic.”
Considering he’s barely twenty-two and hasn’t graduated from college yet, I can’t imagine how that’s true. “Uh huh,” I say simply, hoping it urges him to continue.
“You might be surprised to find out that I’m not some poor country boy.”
I can’t help the giggle that escapes my lips. I bring my hand to my mouth in mock surprise. “Well, I’ll be, Knox. I would’ve never guessed with the pristine Thunderbird or the fancy motorbike your brother kept trying to get permission to ride. Here I was thinkin’ you were just some bad boy James Dean wannabe lookin’ for a girl to shack up with for the summer. Are you telling me that you, the man with the fancy watch, the perfect haircut, and the shiny car, have money?” I ask, in my best Southern belle accent—which isn’t all that great.
Knox rolls his eyes. “Okay, okay. I get it. Not like I was hiding it or anything. It’s just… Where I come from, people expect me to act a certain way. Be a certain man. Here, I’ve found I can be a more relaxed version of myself, a version I didn’t even know existed. For the first time, I haven’t had work or my future on the brain twenty-four-seven, and I have you to thank for that.”
I’m squealing on the inside. Somehow I maintain my cool and offer him a bright smile. “Glad to be of service.”
Knox’s eyes darken and I throw a towel at him.
“Not that kind of service! So you come from money. So what? I’m not exactly hurting, either. After all, I’m here for the entire summer, no bills, play money, and barely a care in the world.”
I could tell him the truth about me, but what’s the point? It seems we’re both keeping each other at arms’ length when not in the bedroom.
