her tongue traces around her lips. Kiss me, she begs with her body.
I step back. I can’t. I will ruin her and any chance of her helping me.
“Ever smoked a joint before, pretty girl?”
“No.”
“Good, I want to be your first.”
She gasps at the words I whispered in her ears.
I grin. Damn, I’m not going to be able to resist her. I thought I could, at least until I got what I needed from her. But my smart-mouthed girl won’t open up easily. I need more time with her. Time without fucking her. But my dick disagrees.
Maybe my plan can work if I fuck her once? Maybe my plan can work even if she hates me?
8
Mila
I hold his hand in the backseat of an Uber like we are sixteen and being driven by our parents. Neither of us makes a move, but I know it’s only because we have an audience. I know the second we are in his apartment we will be humping each other against a wall.
Knight is a bad boy, just like I always knew, but he’s also incredibly broken. More than I realized. He thinks he’s opening up to me, and being honest about his past, but he’s not. It shows me that he’s hiding more.
I know because I’m hiding plenty, even from myself.
The Uber stops, and Knight kisses my hand. Yep, we are definitely fucking if I agree to go up. And I’m definitely staying at his place because I don’t have any other place to stay unless you count sleeping in my car. That’s the only reason I’m going up, I tell myself the lie over and over. Not because I want to fuck him.
We step out into the night and walk into his building holding hands. We enter the elevator our fingers still intertwined. I expect him to kiss me. I expect fire and his hands to grab my hips and push me against the wall. I expect to be panting and begging to come within seconds of entering the lift.
Instead, nothing happens. Sure, the electricity continues to pass back and forth between us where our hands touch. And yes, I have butterflies swarming in my stomach. And my panties are wet from the dirty looks he keeps giving me. But other than holding my hand, Knight doesn’t touch me.
The doors open and he pulls me into his apartment.
“Of course you have an apartment on the top floor. Can you be any more predictable?” I tease.
He shrugs. “Would you prefer I have a loft on the second floor?”
He opens the door, holding it open for me as I step inside. No, I want him to have this apartment and let me have my own room here. Because damn.
“That’s what I thought,” he smugly whispers behind me.
I don’t even care. I’m afraid to step further inside for fear I will break something, and I know I can’t afford to fix a lamp let alone replace any of the furniture if I accidentally spilled a drop of wine.
He places his hand on my lower back and leads me around. To the living room, dining room, kitchen, piano room, five bathrooms, and four bedrooms. He has room for a fucking piano! That’s crazy!
“Do you play?” I ask, suddenly wanting to hear him play me something.
“No.”
“Then, why do you have it?”
He shrugs. “Doesn’t every fancy apartment have a room just for a piano? What else would I put in here?”
“A bar, a pool table, a man cave, I don’t know. Normal guy stuff that you would actually use.”
He blinks but doesn’t say anything.
“Oh…sorry.” I realize my mistake when I see the pink throw pillows on the couch next to the piano. This is the place him and Abri shared. I suddenly like it a lot less.
“Why haven’t you re-decorated, if you hate her so much?”
He shrugs.
I’m getting tired of his shrugs.
“Knight?” I press again.
“I don’t know. It doesn’t bother me. I’m used to it the way it is. I’ll change it when the divorce is final.”
I frown. Does he think there is a chance that they will work things out and she’ll come back?
I don’t want to know the answer to that question.
“So that’s it,” he says leading me back to the kitchen where he starts pouring us drinks. Except he hasn’t shown me the whole apartment. He never showed me his bedroom. I consider asking him to show me, but maybe he thinks we’ll end up there in a few minutes anyway.