He shakes his head and sets me aside. I follow him out of my bedroom and down the hall to the door like a puppy in desperate need of affection. I can still feel him between my legs, his hard jaw working against my thighs, the suck of his mouth. The sounds, oh God, the sounds he made.
At the door he stops. “I didn’t wait for religious reasons,” he informs me. “I waited because if I wanted a physical release, I had my hand. I waited for the right girl.”
And I’m…the right girl? I’m too scared to ask the question out loud because I’m afraid of the answer. I know what I want it to be but I’m too chicken to reach out for it. But I want to. Holy hell, do I want to.
“So are we done?” I ask in a tiny voice.
“No.” He sighs and then releases a self-deprecating laugh. “I’m not done. Are you?”
“No.”
His eyes close in what looks like relief.
“Okay, then.” He pulls open the door and I still follow him because I’m not prepared for him to go. “I’m not into games between us. I want you. Badly. I know you want me too but it’s more than sex for me. When you work that out, it’ll be amazing. I’m willing to wait. I’m really good at waiting.”
I shiver at the thought of what all he’s good at. He starts walking away and I hate that he’s leaving without me giving him something.
“Wait,” I call. He turns back. “Thank you. It was…incredible.”
The side of his mouth curls up in a half smile. “Yeah?”
I give him a little more encouragement. “The best ever.”
He stalks back and presses me against the wall by to the open apartment door.
“Me, too, baby.” He grips me behind my neck and I’m lost the moment his lips meet mine.
I hear sounds around us, people coming and going, but neither of us pay any attention to that. There’s only him and me and the vortex of feeling he creates between us with the mere press of his mouth. Okay, and his big body muscling me up against the wall. There’s that, too. I sneak a hand between us and grip him tightly. He freezes and groans into my mouth, and the sound makes me vibrate from the inside out.
But he doesn’t fall back into the apartment. He collects himself, inch by inch, and then steps away from me.
“Come inside?” I whisper.
“Not tonight.” He shakes his head and the sting of rejection is slightly offset by his obvious regret.
Because I can’t help myself, I ask, “Why not tonight?”
“You’re not ready.”
“And when do you think I’ll be ready?” I put my hands on my hips in exasperation.
He palms my cheek. I swear I can I still feel his mouth between my legs.
“You can start by calling me Knox.”
21
Ellie
“So that’s Knox Masters.” Riley watches as I slam the door shut.
“Yes.”
“Wow. He was all over you. I thought he would unhinge his jaw and swallow you whole in the hall. Half the floor raced to get their cameras to make amateur porn.”
“I know.” I stomp into my bedroom and throw myself face first on the mattress. I feel like banging my feet and hands against the surface. I keep seeing him and his big hand and his dick. I feel his rough jaw between my legs and the glorious orgasms he drew out of me. I then I hear him say I’m not ready. Where does he get off saying I’m not ready. I’m totally ready. I don’t think I have ever been more ready. My body aches in places I didn’t know could ache.
I feel empty. Like there is a Knox-shaped void inside of me.
“Is Masters really a virgin?” Riley asks curiously.
“He says he is.”
“He looked like he wanted to lose it to you. What happened?”
I press a finger against my temple. “I called him by the wrong name.”
“Like another guy’s name?” she gasps.
“No, his last name.”
“Oh.”
She doesn’t get it. I roll over.
“He thinks it’s my way of saying that sex between us would be meaningless.”
“Is he right? Are you using his last name to create emotional distance?”
“I don’t know. Maybe. Yes. He accused me of just wanting sex, as if that’s a bad thing,” I try to joke.
Riley doesn’t laugh. “He obviously thinks you’re special if he wants to sleep with you.”
I swallow. “Yeah.”
“Is all you feel for him physical? Like you want to nail him and be done. Or I guess be nailed by him.”
“No.” My gut clenches at the thought of him taking up any number of the offers available to him. I’m not stupid. I know what it’s like for these players. Even at the junior college, when it became apparent that Jack would move to a bigger, better program, the girls flocked to him. Masters could have anyone on campus by snapping his fingers. I don’t want him with anyone else. “I like him,” I admit. “He’s a terrific person and—” I choke. “I don’t want to get hurt.”
“No one does,” she says softly.
“Riley, I can’t replay this with you right now, because I’m so damned confused. Could we possibly table this discussion until tomorrow when I’m cogent and not completely flustered from what happened outside our apartment door?”
“We can. We absolutely can.”