36
Ellie
After the vows, the hugging, the back slapping, Knox hustles me outside and half carries, half drags me toward his SUV. He nearly shoves me into the passenger seat and then races around to his side of the vehicle. Climbing in, he locks the doors, starts the engine and then turns to me.
His hand comes up to cradle my skull, tilting my head toward his. “I’ve missed you, baby.”
“I missed you too.” There’s no point in pretending I don’t still love him.
He inhales deeply, his eyes shuttering closed for a second before popping open again. A half smile appears on his lips. “Three weeks seems like three years, doesn’t it?”
“It’s been endless,” I admit.
“Baby, I am so sorry.”
“What are you sorry for?” I jerk back in surprise, but Knox pulls me toward him, only to have my progress stopped by the console between us.
He curses and turns to put the SUV in reverse. “I need to get you out of this car. These victories, the past weeks…” He takes his eyes off the road for a minute to glance at me, and I see real anguish there. “None of it will be right until you’ve forgiven me and I get to hold you again.”
A sob lodges in my throat. I swallow heavily to drive it away, but it makes my voice hoarse when I reply. “I’m so sorry I lied to you about Jack. I’m sorry I kissed your brother. I’m sorry that I placed your team in jeopardy with my actions.” I cover my eyes. “If anyone needs forgiveness, it’s me.”
Knox barks out an abrupt laugh. “And I didn’t put you through the ringer with my stupid fucking test?”
“It wasn’t stupid,” I cry.
He curses again. “I wish we weren’t in this fucking car, because I need to hold you right now.”
“Where are we going?” I use the veil to wipe my tears. I hope mascara comes off tulle.
“Hotel.” He grins. “Gift from my parents.”
“I can’t believe they let you get married.”
He drapes an arm across the back of my seat and tangles his fingers in my hair. “We’re adults. I’ve always known what I wanted since I came out of the womb. They knew better than to argue.”
I suppose that’s right. He’s a bulldozer, forging forward to take what he wants. And somehow he wants me. “I love you,” I whisper.
His hand tightens in my hair and he makes a sharp right into a parking lot of a strip mall that’s apparently closed for business on Sundays, because the lot is empty. In one swift movement, he has the parking brake on and my seatbelt is off. He hauls me over the console and into his lap. It’s a tight, uncomfortable fit. The steering wheel digs into my side. My legs dangle awkwardly over the console. Knox’s seat belt hadn’t fully retracted in his haste, and it pokes into my right butt cheek.
But I’ve never felt better.
I allow my hands to roam over his gorgeous face and into his hair. It’s getting long enough to brush the collar of his suit coat. I take one deep breath after the other, filling my lungs with his scent.
My tears start falling.
“No, no, please stop,” Knox says in a panic. “What can I do?”
His hands try to brush away my tears and the sweetness of the gesture only turns up the waterworks higher. I don't make any effort to stop them or him.
“These are happy tears,” I inform him gladly. “I didn’t think I’d ever have the chance to touch you again.” I take his hands, placing them over my sweater covered breasts. Instinctively, his palms curl around the round flesh. His thumbs graze my sensitive tips. “You feel so good,” I moan. “Never stop touching me.
“I won't,” he swears. “I won't ever stop.”
He curls forward, closing the small distance between us. His mouth meets mine with so much tender love I explode in bliss. He tastes minty and male and so wonderfully familiar. His tongue snakes inside to rub against the roof of my mouth, along the ridges, setting off a riot within my taste buds. He’s the best thing on the menu, the only flavor that will ever appease my growing hunger.
I run my hands freely underneath his suit coat. We have a mountain of clothes between us and I’m desperate to get them off. I want that the hair-roughened skin against my more delicate frame. I want to run my tongue over those hard muscles and take the hardest, velvety part of him into my mouth, into my body, into me.
“We need a bed,” I whisper throatily against his mouth.
He groans and tightens his hands around my breasts one more time before lifting me back onto my side of the vehicle. With exquisite care, he reaches over and buckles me in. Satisfied that I’m secured, he reaches a hand up to my face and brushes my hair back. “I love you, Eliot Masters. I still love you.”
Water drips down my face. “If you want me to stop crying, you can’t say those things to me.” I clutch at his hand and presses waterlogged kisses into his palm.