Page 138 of Fighting Mr. Knight

I turn the water fully to cold. I want it to hit my face so hard, it numbs my brain.

I could be rolling around naked in the snow at the Antarctic, and it wouldn’t shock me enough.

The cold is as useless as the heat at wiping everything from my head.

Every time I close my eyes, I imagine it as ifIwere there. The questions eat me up. Morbid questions that I try to excommunicate from my head but can’t.

Questions I don’t want to know the answer to but haunt my every thought.

Did Dad watch or did he look away?

Did Jack’s dad plead with them?

Did he die straight away?

Questions I will never,everask Dad.

I don’t know if I’ll convince Dad to go to the police. I don’t even know if I want him to. He might not have stabbed Jack’s dad, but he was guilty of perverting the course of justice. He might even get manslaughter or worse, murder.

From my obsessive internet searches last night, the police see things like this as a serious crime and they always go to the Crown court.

Dad’s not a bad man. He did a bad thing but he’s still my father.

Either way I’ll lose Jack.

Thick arms envelop me pulling my back flush to a warm chest. I didn’t hear the shower door open.

“Christ,” he mutters behind me and turns the water to hot.

I feel his hardened cock against my butt cheeks as his hands come up to massage my scalp. His fingers knead my head in slow sensual strokes.

Damn, that feels good.

Tingles travel from the nerve endings on my head down my body.

I push my head back, sinking into his chest and moan softly.

Soon enough I will lose Jack but for now, I need him.

All of him.

I turn to face him, and my breath stops. I’ll never get used to this view.

He’s rock hard and his dark eyes blaze with desire. If he’s not the most beautiful manly creature I’ve ever seen, shoot me down.

He slowly strokes himself. Long hard strokes as he keeps his longing gaze steady on me. There’s nothing more arousing than watching this man touch himself. “I’m always thinking of you when I do this.” He laughs softly. “I’m always thinking of you when I do anything these days. It’s driving my trainer crazy.”

The nerve in his forehead jumps again.

“I’m always thinking of you, Bonnie.”

I swallow my tears. “I’m always thinking of you too, Jack.”

“Good. So, we’re both on the same level.” He takes his hand off his cock. “I don’t want any secrets between us.”

Fuck.

“I have something to confess. That night at the castle I walked past your room, and I thought you were crying. I saw you,” he clears his throat sheepishly, “touching yourself. I’m sorry, Bonnie. I’m an asshole. I couldn’t look away.”

---