My heart hammers in my chest as I slide the key into the lock, second-guessing myself every step of the way.
You aren’t doing anything wrong. The man gave you permission.
He did, but… No, no buts. I’m doing this.
I turn the key and the lock disengages, sliding back with a quietthwack.
The door swings open, and I step into the foyer. I’m greeted by Knox’s lingering scent, and my chest tightens with longing. The townhouse is dark and silent, but the layout is similar enough to my own that I can navigate without lights. I climb thestairs to the main level, which is much brighter thanks to the moonlight slanting through the blinds.
When I reach the upper level, nervous energy coils low in my gut.
Despite having Knox’s explicit permission to co-opt his bed, it feels wrong to let myself into his place when he’s not home.
I tiptoe down the hall and there it is: the bed I’ve been fantasizing about for weeks.
It’s probably a sign it’s time to upgrade my ancient mattress, but that’s a debate for future me. Current me just wants to sink into that glorious pile of pillows and imagine Knox at my side.
I drop my phone on the nightstand, pull back the comforter, and slip into the neatly made bed.
The sheets smell like him, and my heart squeezes even as my body relaxes into the soothing scent of sandalwood and citrus that is so undeniably Knox. It’s like being enveloped in his arms, and I feel safe and comfortable as exhaustion finally comes back to claim me.
Inhaling deeply, I curl up in the pillows and drift off to sleep, feeling closer to him than I have in days.
I joltawake to the sound of my phone vibrating on the nightstand. Without thinking, I grab it and swipe accept. Knox’s smiling face appears on-screen, and I’m immediately conscious of the fact that I’ve got a wicked case of bedhead.
“Good morning, gorgeous.”
Smoothing my hair down, I smile. “Good morning.” I glance at the window where the first rays of sunlight are creeping over the horizon. “You’re either up very late or very early. Where are you?”
“I’m in an Uber.” His easygoing grin turns feral, and his voice is a low rasp when he speaks. “Are you sleeping in my bed?”
Heat floods my cheeks. There’s nothing to do but own it. “I was having trouble falling asleep last night, and you said I could use your bed anytime… I hope you don’t mind.”
“Mind? Darlin’, I fucking love it.” There’s a spark of something I can’t identify—desire, yearning, a mixture of the two?—in his eyes. “Does this mean you miss me?”
God, yes.
I pinch my bottom lip between my teeth, attempting to hold the answer back, but it’s futile.
“Of course I miss you.” A wicked idea takes hold, and before I can second-guess myself, I’m racing ahead, fueled by a good night’s sleep and newfound confidence. “I miss the feel of your hard body pressed to mine as I grind against your thigh. I miss the feel of your tongue working my clit until I come all over your face. But most of all, I miss the fullness of your cock thrusting inside me while you take me from behind.”
A frisson of exhilaration electrifies my body, every nerve standing at attention. I can’t believe those words just came out of my mouth. I’ve never been bold—in the bedroom or anywhere else—but I have to admit, taking control feels good.
Better than good. It’s empowering.
“Holy fuck.” Knox’s eyes go wide, and then they cut to the driver, but my words are for him and him alone. He’s wearing a pair of expensive earbuds, and as long as he plays it cool, the driver will be none the wiser. “Darlin’.”
I flash him a sultry smile, leaning all the way into my bratty plan. “Of course, if you’re a visual learner, I’d be happy to show you how much I miss you.”
A muscle in his jaw twitches, and a thrill races up my spine. He craves this connection as much as I do, even if he’ll have to ride it out in silence, unable to touch himself.
Turnabout is fair play.
Really, it’s just friendly payback for all the times he edged me, and it’s going to be so much fun.
Finally, Knox clears his throat. “I believe a visual aid would be best.”
“I thought that might be the case.” I prop my phone up against a pillow, making sure the camera captures all the important bits. Then I trail a finger down the front of my nightshirt and flick the top button open, revealing my breasts. “Do you have any idea what I’d give to feel your mouth on me right now? To feel your hot breath on my flesh?”