Knox (Sexy Bastard #3) (12 page)

T
he rest
of our one free week passes in a rush. Not that I won’t remember every moment—last night’s rendezvous at my pad, complete with breaking in my new Jacuzzi tub with a steamy hot hookup, was particularly memorable—but it all happened so fast. Too fast.

I’m not ready to give up Shelby yet.

But here we are, my last afternoon at the Library with the gang before I depart for the Disney World arena and my long exile of spring training. I wish I could have spent this afternoon the way Shelby and I spent the rest of this weekend, locked in my apartment, dirtying it one room at a time.

Unfortunately, Jackson rolled back into town a few hours ago, and we both thought it’d seem conspicuous if we came late to the party.

Besides, this is my unofficial going-away party. A fact Cash makes clear the moment I stroll through the door by sliding a full shot glass of whiskey in my direction.

“Shouldn’t you be cutting back before training?” Savannah glances my direction.

I toss the shot back before replying. “I’ll let my liver heal on the job.”

There’ll be plenty of time for clean living in the weeks and months ahead. Tonight I’m trying to break up the pit of dread that’s lodged in my gut.

Cash pours a round of shots for everyone now, and cracks open some beers to wash them down.

“Your naked ladies’ society is down a couple of members,” he says to Shelby as he slides her a drink.

As usual, she’s parked herself at the other end of the bar, as far away from me as possible. It takes every ounce of control I have not to cross the room and drop into the seat beside her, or better yet, pull her straight into my lap. After a week of almost constant contact, it feels weird not to be touching her.

No, worse than weird. Physically painful.

Jackson leans around Ryder to narrow his eyes at Cash. “Her what?” he asks, his voice low and dangerous.

Oh shit. Cash has done it now. I hide my smirk behind the lip of my beer bottle.

“Oh, nothing. He’s just being an ass,” Shelby replies with a glower of her own. At the rate he’s receiving death glares, it’s a wonder Cash doesn’t burst into flames where he stands. “Ruby and Avery are on a double-date with Ruby’s trainer and his fitness addict friend.”

“What, the trainer doesn’t have a spare musclehead for you?” Savannah asks Shelby. “That hardly seems fair.”

Shelby rolls her eyes. “Meatheads, ugh. Not my type.”

The girl doesn’t exactly seem to mind a pair of well-defined biceps, but I’m not about to argue the point.

“Okay, so she doesn’t date athletes,” Cassie says. “And she’s not interested in trainers. What
is
your type, Shelby?”

Shelby catches my eyes and then quickly shifts her focus back to the group as she replies. “Oh I don’t know. Tall, handsome, thinks I’m the sexiest thing on the planet and doesn’t mind letting me have dessert first.”

It’s a good thing I wasn’t taking a drink of beer at that moment, or I might have coughed half of it up. Instantly, I’m thrown into a memory: the two of us, three nights ago, her place. Waiting on our delivery, the pizza we’d ordered for dinner. She pushed me sideways on the couch and climbed on top of me, her hands at my fly. “I’d like my dessert first, please,” she murmured in that throaty, sexy voice of hers, the one that totally kills me.

I cannot believe she just brought that up in front of Jackson.

Luckily, my poker face isn’t too shabby. I swallow a larger-than-necessary gulp of my beer.

“Don’t forget,” Jackson butts in, making my muscles clench. “If they want her big brother to approve of her choice, Mr. Tall and Handsome had also better be damn sure he’s planning to treat my sister right.”

I definitely do,
I want to say. But of course, Jackson would never approve of me dating her. He knows better than anyone what my history is like. Not that I was the worst dog around, but c’mon, any pro athlete has got some wild nights in his past.

I
wonder
if those nights are going to come back to haunt me, if we ever wind up telling Jackson the truth.

“Sooo you want what, a baker or something?” Savannah smirks. “They’re good at dessert. But I dunno about the whole apron-wearing thing.”

“Hey, I’m not gonna complain.” She shrugs, but her expression has drifted from amusement into something else. She looks actually sad. I wish I could reach across the table right now and grab the hand she’s got fisted around her own beer, peel it off that label and curl her small, smooth fingers in mine.

It’s going to be okay
, I want to tell her. Except, I’m not so sure that it is.

Meeting someone right before spring training could be a relationship death sentence, if that’s where this is even going. Hard to tell if we’re going to be able to sustain this thing over state lines. As if the threat of Jackson hanging over us isn’t enough, my entire world is about to be swallowed up by the all-consuming rhythm of an MLB season.

Fucking figures. I finally meet the perfect girl for me, hot as hell, insatiable in the sack, funny, smart, and she even knows how to talk shop about pro athletes (even if baseball isn’t the sport for her)—and it’s at the absolute worst possible time.

I can’t imagine finding anyone else I want like this. I can’t imagine even thinking about doing long-distance with anyone during training, and yet, that was the first thing I thought of when I realized I’d be leaving. How can we make this work?

Suddenly, I know what I want to do. What I want to tell her.

“Shelby, I may actually have a potential guy for you,” Cassie is saying.

I grit my teeth.
Seriously, Cassie?
Speaking of bad timing.

“Oh yeah?” Shelby keeps her eyes down, fiddling with the label on her beer. Not interested. Right?

Or is she just playing that way because Jackson is here?

“You know how I’ve been doing some freelance accounting work for a couple of doctors? There’s this one really cute MD who just had his engagement broken off.”

“A man in scrubs with a stethoscope around his neck,” Ryder says, raising an eyebrow as he scrolls through his phone. “Every good girl’s fantasy.”

“
Every
girl’s fantasy, period,” Savannah interrupts. “Which is why a single doctor doesn’t stay single for long. Shelby, you gotta jump on that before someone else does.”

“Why don’t I just text him and see if he’s open to a setup?”

Great, thanks Cassie. We’ve got the millionaire matchmakers of Atlanta on the case. Why don’t we go ahead and dial him up on speaker right now?

My gut churns. Shelby, for her part, is steadily avoiding my eyes. “I’m not sure . . . ” she hedges.

Would she say yes if I wasn’t sitting right here? Or her brother?

“How well do you know this guy?” Jackson interrupts, wearing his
oh hell no
face. For once, I’m grateful for his overprotective attitude.

“He’s a doctor, Jackson, what more do you need to know? The guy literally saves lives for a living.” Cassie rolls her eyes.

“Haven’t you ever watched House?” Jackson points out. “Doctors can be assholes too.”

“TV shows aside, single doctors are basically unicorns.” Savannah flips her hair back from her shoulder. “Why not give it a shot? It’s one date, what do you have to lose?”

Jackson looks about as pleased at this line of suggestions as I do, but we’re both silent now, watching Shelby for her reaction. I can’t tell anything, because she’s still got her head bent over her drink, hair falling over her face in a cascade, hiding her expression and any hint of what she’s thinking from me.

Maybe she doesn’t want to wait for me. Maybe spring training will last too long. Maybe it’s all too much—the distance, Jackson standing between us. I can’t blame her if she wants something easier.

I can’t blame her, but I can hope that’s not the case. My pulse seems to throb in my ears as I wait for her answer.

When she finally lifts her head, she’s grimacing. “Thanks guys, but things are way too crazy at work for me to even think about dating right now.”

Relief shoots through me quicker than a shot of tequila. I sag back against my chair, and help myself to another shot of Cash’s generously provided liquor.

“Aww, you sure?” Cassie pouts.

Let it go, girl
, I think.

But then . . . “Let me get back to you when shit settles down,” Shelby adds, and I’m right back to strangling the poor innocent beer bottle in front of me.

Shit.

When shit settles down. Is that me? Am I the shit?

Slowly the bar starts filling up. Cash is busy with his new trainees, a couple of brunettes in tight tanks learning the ropes behind the bar. Ryder is talking to a couple of his fighters about an upcoming event. Jackson is buried in his laptop again, because even though he just got back from the job site this morning, he’s never really unplugged from work in his life.

Cash switches to an eighties playlist, and the girls all push back their chairs.

“Let’s dance.” Savannah flips her blonde curls over her shoulder as she downs another shot. “It’ll be good for business.”

“Knox, let’s see what you’ve got,” Cassie calls out.

“I’ll save up my energies for training season,” I respond with a smirk. Besides, I don’t dance. An athlete dancing around in public is an invitation for a social media gangbang. Especially with that stupid hat meme still making the rounds.

“Boooo. You’re no fun. Come on Shelby, don’t be a wallflower. That ass is too fine not to shake.”

Say what you will, Savannah really does have a way with words. And she’s got a point about that ass.

“I’ll be right there. Just gonna go stash our bags in the back room.” Shelby stands and hoists her bag onto her shoulder, right before she shoots me a
look
—one eyebrow raised, head cocked, lips curled in the hint of a smile. Then she’s gone, heading into the office. But I know a request when I see one.

I wait a couple of beats and then follow her lead.

The door to the back office is a false-fronted bookshelf. You wouldn’t be able to find it unless you knew what you were looking for. Shelby’s left the heavy case open a crack. I shut it behind me and she flings her arms around my neck almost before it’s shut completely. Our lips crash together, and we stumble across the room into the desk. I don’t so much bend her backwards over it as fall on top of her, both of us lying across the hard oak surface as my hand snakes up her shirt.

“So you’re into doctors now?” I breathe against her ear, right before I catch her lobe between my teeth and bite lightly.

She squirms beneath me. “Only if you’re doing the doctoring.”

I lift my head to grin down at her, even as I pull her shirt up around her shoulders. “In that case, you’ll have to start by taking off these clothes.”

She bites her lip as I unclasp her bra. “The problem seems to be . . . lower.” She bats her eyes, but I won’t be deterred.

“I’ve got to be thorough,” I tell her, as I squeeze both of her delicious tits hard. Then I lean in to swirl my tongue around her nipple, and her back arches off the desk, her head falling back.

“Oh, yes, that’s the spot,” she gasps. I flick my tongue across the tip of her now-hard nipple, and she writhes beneath me. “Fuck, Cooper.”

My name in her mouth sounds so fucking hot. “Mmm,” I murmur, my mouth still full of her tit, before I pull back just far enough to grin at her. “If you say so.”

I stand, parting her thighs to stand between them as I flip her skirt up. As usual, my girl is going commando. She knows how I like her. My fingers trace up her thighs, when suddenly she freezes beneath me, her head tilted.

“What was that?” she hisses.

“What was what?” I lean in to nip at her neck, but she squirms away a little.

“I heard something. Outside.”

We both freeze then, neither of us moving. I don’t want to stop, but thinking about the others, all of our oblivious friends, less than twenty feet from where we’re standing right now, it does make me panic. Her brother is out there, too. Any one of them could walk in here at any moment.

But all I hear, despite our long pause, is the distant throb of the music Cash is now blasting.

Our eyes meet again, and there’s a fire burning in both of us now. Something about the risk of discovery, the danger of doing this right here, right now, is too hot to stand.

“Fuck it,” she murmurs, and grabs the back of my neck to pull me into a hard kiss. She bites my bottom lip at the end of it, hard enough to hurt, and I grin into that kiss.

Yeah, she knows how I like it.

I undo my fly, while she wraps her legs around my waist. When I finally plunge into her, it’s with a gasp of relief, the tight grip of her walls around my huge erection sending a rush through my entire body.

“Fuck you feel so good, Shelby.” I grip her ass tight in both hands as I slide slowly out of her, then drive back into her even deeper.

“Take me, Knox,” she moans.

I fuck her harder, deeper, until every thrust lifts her off the desk. Her hands fist in my shirt, her neck arching as her head falls back and she cries out in ecstasy, the distant music burying the sound of her orgasm. I groan as I bury myself to the hilt inside her one last time before I come with a groan through gritted teeth.

When I open my eyes, she’s smiling at me, her eyes lit from within with mischief.

I slide out of her and ease her into a sitting position on the desk, as she pulls her shirt back down. “What’s that look for?” I raise an eyebrow at her.

She smirks in response. “Nothing. I just love the look on your face when you do that.”

“When I come?” I trace a finger over her lips. Her tongue lashes out to lick said finger from tip to base, and she’s still wearing that seductive smirk.

“When I make you lose control.” With that, she saunters out of the office, straightening her clothes as she goes. By the time the door shuts behind her, you’d never be able to tell from looking at her what she’d been up to ten seconds earlier.

As for me, I slump into the chair behind the desk and rest my head on my fists for a minute.