Sex Page 7

  And it makes me smile.

  She sees my grin and says, “Oh, you like that do you?”

  I plant a sweet kiss on her lips. “Actually, it makes me very happy. I was incredibly jealous when you left me to go back to him. So, what did you think of my entrance?”

  “I had no idea it was you. Like that thought didn’t even cross my mind. I was freaking the fuck out because I thought he was proposing. He’s watched The Bachelor with me before. Knows I love it.”

  I wince. “You were that serious?”

  “No, we weren’t, but I just couldn’t figure out what else it could be. It felt like a proposal—a big crazy gesture. I was pretty happy when I saw it was you. But I never would have guessed it.”

  “What would you have done if I had proposed?” I dare to ask.

  “I would have fucking said yes,” she says with a giggle. “Hell, I may have to marry you, or risk never having a sex life again.”

  “Do you remember meeting me at Keatyn’s eighteenth birthday party?” I ask her. I don’t know why this has been bugging me, but it has.

  “Briefly, yeah, we were introduced, like, when you walked in.”

  “How come we didn’t have a moment then like we had at the wedding?”

  “You thought we had a moment?”

  “You know we had a moment.”

  “Hmm. It was probably because I was dating someone, sort of. He was my high school boyfriend and was going to college, and we were stuck in that spot of not knowing if we'd stay together. We ended up not.”

  “Was that Bryce?”

  “How did you know that?”

  “I may have watched all your parts in the movies when I got home.”

  “Oh, God, so embarrassing.” She covers her face as she blushes.

  I remove her hand and kiss her cheek. Then her neck. “Not embarrassing. You were too cute.”

  “Cute and dumb. I want to say it was because I was young, but honestly, I still do dumb things.”

  The car stops. “Looks like we are here,” I say.

  She narrows her eyes at me. “How do you even know where I live . . . never mind. Keatyn?”

  “Maggie,” I tell her, helping her out of the limo and up the stairs to her apartment.

  When she opens the door, she stands in shock. Every flat surface, nook, and crevice is filled with bouquets of roses.

  “You really did buy out all the florists in town, didn’t you?”

  “Well, I’m trying to make an impression, in case you can’t tell.”

  “And what kind of impression is that, Mr. Daniels?” she asks, pulling me inside and taking a big whiff of the beautiful scent. “Gosh, it smells incredible in here.”

  “I’m glad you like it.” I’m pretty sure I’m beaming.

  “So . . .” she says, grabbing my lapel and pulling me close. Her soft lips brush against mine. “Are there flowers in the bedroom, too?”

  “Let’s go see.”

  “Eek! They are so pretty. And there are rose petals all over the bed. Wait. How the hell did you get into my apartment?”

  “Well, my assistant, Missy, called and explained the situation. I don’t think they believed us until I walked into the leasing office. I thought one of the girls was going to faint.”

  “And they just let you in? Because you’re a celebrity? Did they at least make you show some ID?”

  “Yes, they did. And they accompanied Missy, myself, and the two floral delivery trucks. Then they locked up after us.”

  “Well, I guess that’s okay then.” She seductively slides onto the bed, beckoning me to join her. Why am I not throwing myself on top of her and fucking her brains out?

  Because I like her. Fuck. I’m nervous.

  And although sleeping with her here surrounded by rose petals was my original idea, Missy texted me a few minutes ago and told me that the word was out. That photos were being posted on the internet. She said she hopes that it will stay contained to the local vicinity, but she can’t guarantee it. And that we would be best to head out tonight, not in the morning. I definitely don’t want Katie to have to deal with the paparazzi yet. And I’m not ready for that either. I need time alone with her. Just the two of us.

  So rather than pounce on her delicious body, I find myself pulling her back up. “We’re going to date…Bachelor style.”

  “You mean I have to compete for your love?”

  “Actually, no. This is Knox-style. You’ve already won this round—thus the roses. We’re skipping the drama and going straight to the good stuff.”

  “The sex, hopefully?”

  “No, the dates. I want to take you on a fun date. I want to meet your family. And I want you to experience the fantasy suite.”

  “That all sounds fun, Knox, except the part about my parents. My mother passed away. Dad got remarried. I never see him anymore. His choice. No other family to speak of. What about you?”

  “My father passed away a few years ago. My mother is currently on a mission trip. I help raise money, she goes and does good with it. I can’t wait for you to meet her.”

  “When will she be back?”

  “Not until the holidays.”

  “So what are we going to do?”

  “Well, we can’t stay here, I know that.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because word is out about the floral stunt I just pulled, and I don’t want to be hounded by the paparazzi. We’re going to stay one step ahead of them.”

  “How are we going to do that?”

  “Well, sugar, that part is easy. We just need your passport. I looked around and couldn’t find it.”

  “You searched my apartment?” she asks, looking horrified.

  “You have quite an impressive collection of vibrators,” I smirk. “Something to help when the finesse is lacking?”

  “Exactly,” she says. She moves into the kitchen, opens the freezer, and takes out a Ziploc bag. “My passport.”

  I laugh. “That is the one place I didn’t think to look.”

  “Well, the idea is it won’t burn if there’s a fire. Don’t know if that’s true or not. So what should I pack?”

  “Nothing,” I tell her.

  “So I’m either wearing the work dress I have on or nothing?”

  I pull her into my arms and kiss her. “I have taken care of everything. Let’s go.”

  Vanessa’s Estate - Holmby Hills

  DAWSON

  I show up at Vanessa’s house after work. I haven’t seen her or really heard much from her for a couple of days. She said she was busy with clients, but things feel off between us. Like there’s something she’s not telling me. Or that I did something to upset her. Although, I can’t imagine what it would be. This past weekend was incredible, and her house turned out so well—exactly what she wanted.

  We have a nice dinner in the newly decorated kitchen, but the conversation feels forced, and I hate it. So I just ask.

  “You seem distant. What’s going on? Everything okay with work?”

  “Yeah, work is fine,” she states, not responding to the rest. I notice that she really hasn’t eaten any of her food.

  “Are you having second thoughts about me and the girls moving in? If you are, it’s okay, Vanessa. I know things between us have happened fast. If it’s not the right—”

  “You might be right about that,” she says, setting her fork down.

  “Um, which part?”

  “All of it. I’m not sure if the girls moving here is a good idea.”

  “Then why did you have their rooms done?”

  “I just can’t do this right now, okay?” she yells at me and then storms off. “Please, just go home!”

  What the hell is going on? Did I misread the situation? She had the house redone for us. She’s been excited. Now that it’s a reality, she’s changed her mind?

  Maybe that’s it. It was fun thinking about it and planning it, but now she doesn’t know if she can do it. Or she just doesn’t want to.

&nbs
p; I consider trying to talk to her, but decide maybe it’s best if I don’t right now.

  I might say something I would regret. Because I’m fucking pissed. I told the girls we would be moving in. I told them they would be so surprised to see their rooms.

  Now, she’s made a liar out of me.

  I march to the front door, fling it open, walk out, and swing it shut with all my might, causing the house to shake.

  I drive to my house and then go for a walk on the beach, trying to both clear my thoughts and calm myself down. But it doesn’t work because I can’t figure out what went wrong. Is she just nervous? Does this mean that we’re over? Or is it just too much too soon?

  I don’t have any answers.

  So I go back to the house and try to get some sleep.

  At little later, I see that she texted me and wants to talk.

  Well, fuck that.

  KATIE’S APARTMENT - CINCINNATI

  KATIE

  I can’t even believe this is happening. Knox Daniels—smoking hot, sexy, incredible Knox Daniels—is in my apartment. After our hot kisses in the limo and the romantic scene he created, I figure we won’t leave here for days.

  I even spread myself across the bed, a clear invitation to take me, but instead he pulls me up, makes me get my passport, and leads me out of my apartment.

  He doesn’t even let me pack a thing. No sexy lingerie, no toothbrush, no makeup. This is going to be a disaster. Thank goodness, I have a little touch-up makeup kit in my purse at all times.

  It’s weird, the more we talk, the more I joke around with him, the less I think of him as my Foxy Knoxy dream guy, and the more it feels like he’s just Knox. He’s sweet and adorable. His kisses are ecstasy. And the best part is knowing that our kiss at the wedding affected him as much as it did me. It’s crazy to think I could be dating a movie star, but when we kiss, what he does slips away and all that is left is us.

  After leaving my apartment, we are whisked to an airport where a private jet is waiting for us.

  “Where are we going?” I ask.

  “You’ll see,” he says then kisses me.

  And doesn’t stop kissing me for the entire flight—even though I have made advances that suggest I’d like to do much more.

  We land in the District of Columbia just as the sun is setting over the Washington Monument. It’s a little cloudy, and the sky is bathed in shades of pink and blue.

  A limousine meets us on the tarmac, and in a short time we’re pulling into the Four Season’s private entrance and are taken up an elevator by a bellman.

  “Give us the tour,” Knox says, although he probably stays here every time he’s in town. “I’ve never stayed in something so extravagant.”

  And that makes me like him even more. He holds his elbow out for me, and I link my arm with his. Tightly. I can’t even believe I’m here.

  A butler opens a set of double doors and says, “Welcome to the Royal Suite.”

  The foyer itself is a breathtaking room, polished wood on the walls, glittering mosaic on the floor. “Look at the twinkling lights on the ceiling,” I screech, pointing upward.

  “Those are Swarovski crystals twinkling above you. If you’ll follow me,” the butler says, leading us into a beautiful dining room that will seat at least ten. It’s decorated in soft colors and is flooded with natural light. He taps on one of the windows and says, “Bullet resistant glass.”

  “Hope we don’t need that,” I whisper to Knox, but the butler overhears me.

  “It also is wonderful for insulating you from the noise of the city. From the dining room, we have a large open salon. It features a sitting area, a library, a formal living area, and a media room.”

  “How big is this place?” I ask, stunned.

  “Around four thousand square feet.” I beam at Knox, who beams back as we follow the butler into a stunning bath. “The bath features a large soaking tub, mother-of-pearl tile, double vanity and large shower. Beyond that we have the master bedroom.”

  “I could live in just this room,” I blurt out. “Actually, who am I joking, I sort of do. This room alone is the size of my whole apartment!”

  The butler finishes the tour by showing us the private workout room as well as a sprawling private terrace featuring its own fire pit. The doorbell rings. “That will be your bags. Would you like us to unpack for you?”

  “No, thank you,” Knox tells him, handing him a folded up bill. “That will be all for now.”

  As soon as he leaves, Knox picks me up and twirls me around. “So what do you think?”

  I reply with a kiss.

  “What do you want to do first?” he asks, setting me down on my tiptoes.

  “Well, technically, you cheated.” I smirk and raise my eyebrows at him. “You weren’t supposed to be allowed to bring me to D.C. until you had proven your worthiness.”

  “Oh, now I get it. You only want me for my body,” he says, pulling off his shirt and revealing a perfectly sculpted chest, thick abs, and an impressive V-line, but what really catches my attention are his arms. I reach out and glide my hand across a muscular bicep.

  “I just might. Gosh, you’ve been working out.”

  “I always work out, sugar.”

  “Yeah, but I saw your last movie. You weren’t this big. At least you didn’t look this big on screen.”

  “Everything is bigger up close. Why don’t I show you?” he says, sweeping me off my feet and lying me across the chaise in the bedroom. Then he stands up and slowly strips for me.

  First his belt, which he snaps at me when he undoes it. Might have to have some fun with that later.

  He’s going way too freaking slow. I’ve been imagining this night for years and have become obsessed with thoughts of it since he kissed me. I can’t wait any longer. I unzip his pants, push them the fuck down, and pull him on the bed with me, not even bothering to take off anything other than my thong.

  Three hours later, I am completely naked, trying to catch my breath. “Oh wow,” I say, plopping back on the bed. That was—”

  “Hopefully more finesse than you’re used to,” he drawls.

  “It was more everything. I just—wow. I have no words. And I teach English. I always have words.”

  He takes my hand in his, holding it slightly above us and staring at the way our hands look together, like it’s the most interesting thing in the world. “If you could do anything, sugar lips, what would you do?”

  “Like I could quit my job, move to Costa Rica, stare at the ocean, and write books kind of thing?”

  He rolls to face me as he traces my collarbone with his finger. “So that’s what you’d do? Write?”

  “Yeah. I have a bunch of ideas. Stories I’ve started, but never finished. I always get busy. Or think it’s a dumb idea.”

  “What kind of books?”

  “Children’s. Middle grade or young adult. I had a dream about a place you got to through a secret door, sort of like Narnia, but the world was very different. The kids go back and forth between the worlds. That kind of thing.”

  “That sounds really cool. You should totally do it. Want to hear a secret?” He smiles, flashing his dimples. “I wrote a script. It’s something I really never considered doing before, but I was so inspired by this particular storyline that it just rolled out of me. And it’s totally different from the blockbuster action films I’ve been doing. It’s this romantic time traveling story about love that transcends time.”

  “It sounds amazing. Maybe you’ll let me read it sometime,” I tell him, still barely believing that I am lying in a bed with Knox Daniels conversing about life in a ridiculous suite having just spent the last three hours—gosh, do I even dare think it—making love. The first time was fast, furious, needy—animalistic and primal. The second time was a little less rushed, but equally intense. Then he slowed down and proved his powers of finesse by taking me to places sexually that I can honestly say I’ve never been before. And he did do the lip biting thing down lower, but
he didn’t bite me, just sort of gave it a little tug after getting me all worked up. It was more like a kiss on the nose. Quick, sweet, but the fact that he told me he’d never considered doing it there, that he’d never experienced it with another woman, only heightened my arousal. Like it wasn’t already sky high.

  “I just bought a house in Sonoma County. Not far from the vineyard,” he says, drawing my attention back to what he’s saying. Although it’s sort of hard to pay attention because his hand is now gliding up between my thighs. Part of me wonders if I can take any more. The other part of me can’t wait to find out.

  “Really? I mean, don’t get me wrong, it’s gorgeous there, but it doesn’t seem like there would be much nightlife for a bachelor like you.”

  “Keatyn and I both put our lives on hold to do the Trinity series. I’m ready for a slower pace.” The hand stops gliding, and his finger taps my skin. “A place to call home. Do you like the area?”

  “It’s beautiful. I enjoy visiting, but I think I might get bored.” I shift my body slightly, hoping he will keep moving his hand upward.

  Instead he sits up, puts his elbow out, and leans his head against his fist. I’m in a lust and ecstasy induced haze. Is it wrong that I can barely focus on his words when his hand is so close? “But Keatyn is there. Your friend, Maggie. Wouldn’t that be fun?”

  “It would be more fun because you would be there, probably,” I coo, deciding to take matters into my own hands—and by matters, I mean his dick.

  “Could you write somewhere like that?” he continues.

  “If I robbed a bank, sure.”

  “What if you shared my bank?”

  I let go of his dick and sit up straight. “What do you mean?”

  He gives me a lazy smile. The kind that makes me slow down and enjoy just talking to him. “I wondered if you’d ever considered moving, like there, with me.”