I noticed as it was impossible to miss, my smile faded and I asked, “Are you okay?”
“Fuck,” he muttered.
My brows drew together.
“Knight? Are you okay?”
He was staring at me but I realized he wasn’t seeing me, he was miles away, when he focused on me. And his focus was so extreme it was a physical thing, enveloping me.
No, ensnaring me.
“You like how I did you this morning?” he asked and it was rapped out, abrupt, sharp and all that after the easy we were sharing was shocking.
“Yes,” I whispered.
And just when I thought I had him figured out, I was back to confused at all things Knight Sebring.
“You want more?” he asked and I felt my body start trembling.
“Yes,” I answered hesitantly.
“You gonna give it up, take what I give, however I give it, however you get it?”
My hand went out and curled around the edge of the counter but my head nodded.
“You earn it, you prepared to accept punishment?”
“Knight,” I whispered.
“Answer me.”
Oh God.
“Yes,” I said softly.
“The clothes, the shoes, the phone, my place, a car comin’ to get you, my club, you into that?”
“Yes,” I repeated softly.
“That goes away, you still into me?”
“Knight, what’s this about?”
“I asked you a question, Anya.”
Okay, now I was getting angry.
So it was snapped when I replied, “I’ve got clothes and I almost had the money for a phone and I’m not destitute so I can pay the cover charge, even at your club, which, by the way, is definitely the coolest club in Denver but still the cover charge is extortionate. So yes, Knight. That goes away, I’m still into you.”
He stared at me.
I kept getting angry and I did it fast until I just plain was.
So I told him, “And by the way, what I said last night that you thought was uncool, you’re right. It was. But in my defense I said it as you were laying some pretty heavy stuff on me. And just so you know, what you just said to me was just as uncool. I returned the phone, Knight. And if you want it all back, except the phone which I’ve used but that too, and the stuff I wore last night, it’s all got its tags still. You can take it. Return it. Give it to someone in your smorgasbord. Whatever. Just don’t tell me and I’ll make it easy for you to do that because if you think I’m using you, I’ll be happy to stop making you think I’m doing that by going away.”
“My smorgasbord?” he asked, brows rising.
“Your smorgasbord of pu**y at your club,” I explained, my face set so hard I could feel it.