Total pages in book: 135
Estimated words: 139088 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 695(@200wpm)___ 556(@250wpm)___ 464(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 139088 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 695(@200wpm)___ 556(@250wpm)___ 464(@300wpm)
“…you need to find this funny,” he warned. “And I need to find it funny. Because if I don’t find it funny, I’m gonna find it something else, and neither of us, along with Cheyenne…”
He took a breath in, his nostrils contracted, then they flared.
Oh boy.
“Especially Cheyenne,” he went on, “will think anything is funny.”
I thought it prudent to sit and grab my bowl, so this was what I did, and not only because Jacques was sniffing at the edge of the coffee table.
“Are you okay?” Knox asked.
“We rolled down three steps.”
“Are you hurt?” he asked softly.
“No.” I huffed. “I suppose I should take this win and move on. Even the patrons gave me a round of applause when Dimitri marched us out of there.”
I heard Knox swallow his chuckle.
I slid my eyes to him.
“I will find it funny, I promise,” I said. “Right now, it’s not funny. I really liked those shoes.”
“I’ll buy you a new pair, baby,” he murmured.
I shoved more food in my mouth.
“That smells good,” Knox remarked.
All right.
It wasn’t his fault Cheyenne was a lunatic.
And Dimitri did find it funny, so no hitmen were receiving orders to whack those crazy broads who made a mockery of his classy restaurant tonight.
I got up, moved to him, sat close and offered him the bowl.
He took it.
He ate some.
“Fucking hell,” he muttered with his mouth still full.
“You should taste their borscht.”
Knox’s body gave a start.
I’d give it to him, he tried. I could see him trying. I could see how much it took from him.
Then he failed and burst out laughing.
I did too.
So I guessed it was funny.
Whatever.
He and Brady had worked things out.
Cheyenne was out of our lives.
We were together.
And moving on.
TWENTY-TWO
SPORTS WIDOW
I was beginning to be able to assess in minute detail how Knox’s recovery was going.
And the next morning, as I held onto the headboard with Knox behind me, fucking me with both of us on our knees, I could gladly report he was recuperating nicely.
Very nicely.
And he was getting his energy back.
I knew this when he withdrew, pulled me from the headboard, dropped to his back, positioned me over his face, yanked me down and went at me that this morning’s session was going to be a session.
Like our days of old.
I was entirely at one with that.
I rode his face with the exuberance I rode his dick, and when I was right there…right there…he tugged me off.
“Baby,” I begged.
But he was yanking me down his body.
He had his cock in hand, then he had it in me, then he rolled us without losing our connection, kept it as he rose up to sit back on his ankles, drew my legs straight up his chest, held them with one arm wrapped around them, and resumed fucking me.
Poor Cheyenne.
She had no freaking clue.
“Fuckin’ missed your sweet pussy, baby,” he murmured.
It missed him back.
However, he was fucking me so hard, I was unable to reply.
“You’re so fuckin’ gorgeous, you make this impossible,” he growled. “Wanna fuck your face even when I’m fuckin’ your cunt.”
I did not need Knox’s sexy talk, or I wasn’t going to last long, which was no good when we were in the middle of a session.
Sadly, he was fucking me too hard for me to share that either.
He pulled out, dropped my legs, and walked back on his knees.
“Get over here,” he ordered.
My whole body spasmed at his command, but I moved fast to get on my hands and knees, and I crawled to him.
He took my hair in his grip, pulling my head back, and he was fucking my face.
I moaned around his cock.
“Touch yourself.”
I did.
Even better.
“Fuck, baby,” he groaned.
I rolled my eyes up to him, and at the dark look on his face as he watched me take his cock, I moaned again.
That went on a lovely while, until he pulled out, caught me under an arm and swung me up.
My legs circled his hips.
His cock drove home.
He fell forward onto me, and I held on tight as he rode me hard until I found it (with no clit action, totally in pity mode for Cheyenne), and the minute I did, I heard him find his.
He gave me all his weight when he came down.
I gladly took it, and not only because he earned it.
He didn’t give it for long. He rolled off, taking me with him to tuck me to his side.
“I don’t know what the doctors are going to say tomorrow, but my diagnosis is, your recovery is coming along very well, Mr. Chambers,” I remarked.
He pulled me further on him, so I could see his smile before his hand threaded into my hair, and he brought my mouth to his for a wet, sweet, thorough kiss.
Jacques barked.
We stopped kissing.
“My turn,” he said softly.
“I’ll do coffee and doggie breakfast.”
We touched lips and Knox pulled us both out of bed.