Page 31 of Fighting Mr. Knight

“Bonnie,” I say firmly as, undeterred, her foot comes down heavily on mine again.

“Whoops.” She looks up at me with those eyes that make my heart rate spike, despite the eyelash inconsistency. I’ve never seen eyes so expressive. “Little mistake. It’s because the dress is too tight.”

The dress has nothing to do with it; in fact, it should be restricting her limbs from flailing all over the place. Now I understand how she walked into an elbow. I’ve done semi-pro boxing for years. Those guys, packing two hundred pounds of pure muscle, they’re predictable. Bonnie, on the other hand, must weigh no more than one-twenty, tiny compared to me, but is doing serious damage to my feet.

“Let me lead, darlin’.” I restrain her with an iron grip. “And get a refund for those dance lessons, will you?”

She scoffs. “What are you saying?”

Do I need to spell it out?

I grin down at her, relieved to have gained control.It’s okay, darlin’, you still really fucking turn me on.“Your feet are spending more time on top of mine than on the floor.”

“Just because I’m willing to try something that requires a little more skill. Your feet are too big, that’s the problem.”

She scowls but thankfully relents as I force her to relax into a boring but safe sway.

“Darlin’,”she hisses back at me.

But the boring sway isn’t as safe as I expected, and I become extremely aware of those perky tits pressing against my lower chest.

That’s all it takes for my cock to stir in my tuxedo trousers.

Her core grinds softly against my crotch whenever we shift weight. Maybe it’s her version of revenge for me stifling her dance moves.

“Isn’t this much better?” I ask gruffly, trying to stifle the raging erection threatening.

“I suppose,” she says stiffly, her cheeks burning a sexy scarlet.

I stroke the dark red jewelled necklace decorating her neck as an excuse to touch her collarbone. “Did you make this one? What’s this one for?”

“It’s called a Fire Agate stone. I had to work with a colour that matches the dresses.” She nods in Becky’s direction. “See? Becky is wearing a matching one.”

I don’t look at Becky.

Bonnie’s mouth twitches. “Apparently, it stimulates physical energy.”

Apparently, it does.

She touches my own gold chain. “You always wear this. Does it have any special meaning?”

“It was my father’s.” I don’t consider myself sentimental, but I wear that chain pretty much everywhere.

She flinches. “I feel like I keep putting my foot in it.”

“Your feet are definitely a problem right now,” I tease. “You have full permission to ask me anything.”

“He was from Hackney, right?”

“Yup, just off the flower market.”

“And your mum’s Italian?”

“Yup.”

“How did they meet?”

I know why she’s asking. There are legends about Dad. He’s famous from beyond the grave.

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