Page 27 of Unmasked Rivalry
“Fine, but I’m sleeping on the floor,” I mutter.
“Best of luck,” Zane teases.
“Zip it,” I snap as Knox nods his head in the direction of his room.
I follow him, ignoring Mera and Nia’s silly little thrusting dance that they do as we leave.
Knox’s room is exactly how I remember it, and I watch awkwardly as he turns on the lights and takes his shirt off, tossing it onto the floor.
“Isn’t your little woman staying in here?” I say, sarcastically.
“Already finished with her today.”
Jesus.
Do I dare ask?
He disappears into the bathroom, and I hear the shower running. I take that time to take a pillow and spare blanket and make myself a spot on the floor. Sitting down, I wait and listen as the shower stops and Knox walks out, towel around his waist.
I try not to stare at his sweat-slicked skin, or the way his muscles bunch. Don’t get me started on the bulge between his legs, outlined by the white towel.
God damn.
This was a really bad idea.
Lightning cracks outside, and I can hear the storm getting worse.
“Are you actually this stubborn?” he says, folding his arms.
I blink up at him. “I’m not sleeping in your bed. No thank you.”
He doesn’t answer. He simply crosses the room in three long strides, scoops me up with absolutely no warning, and deposits me straight onto his bed. I shriek, punch his shoulder, but he’s made of granite and doesn’t even flinch.
“What is wrong with you,” I huff, trying to scurry off the bed, but he has my ankle before I can get close, dragging me back.
“You’re not sleepin’ on the floor.”
"I am sleeping on the floor," I say, twisting, but he’s already tossing a second pillow to the head of the bed.
“Floor’s covered in jizz, you want to get pregnant? Be my guest,” he says, shrugging. There’s a tiny scar across his shoulder, white against his tan skin, and my eyes lock onto it like it’s easier to catalog every inch of him than admit I’m not equipped for this argument right now.
“You are disgusting!” I snap.
There is no way I’m laying in his jizz, though. I clamber as far left as possible and fluff my pillow. The mattress is weirdly soft, not that I’m letting him know. Knox towels his hair off, then stands there, face unreadable.
I stare. “You plan to stand there all night like a weirdo?”
He grins, wolfish, and drops the towel, like it’s the most natural thing in the world to be completely naked in front of me. My jaw drops open, and a weird sound comes out, one that I am immediately horrified by.
“Can you not...,” I gesture, helpless, “flop your junk out?”
He ignores me, crawls onto the other side of the bed, and yanks the blanket up to his waist.
“I am not sleeping next to you naked,” I say, louder than I mean to. “No offense, but I don’t trust you not to wake me up with something... in me.”
He lets out a full-body snort, like I’m the funniest thing he’s seen in months. "Don’t flatter yourself, sunshine. Fucked a sweetbutt three times already today. I got nothing left for you.”
That’s supposed to make me feel better? Because it doesn’t. It does, however, shut me right up. There’s a weird twist in my chest at the idea of him with someone else, a twist I don’t like. I quickly push it aside, refusing to spend a second trying to figure it out.
