“And most of all, I want you to tell me if you like how wet I make you…” I say, then pull my hand out from her shorts, release her wrists, and climb off of her. “Or if you’re fine with some random guy replacing me,” I finish, rumbling out a laugh.
“You bastard!” she shrieks at me, throwing a pillow at me as I get off the bed and start to leave. “I can’t believe you’d do that.”
“You still haven’t given me an answer,” I tease from the doorway. “I’ll be over in the other guest room while you think about it.”
“You’re such a—”
“Prick? Asshole? That I am. And it won’t ever change, Belle.” I head down the hall, a smile on my face. But even I am not that strong a man. I raise my hand to my nose and smell her scent on my fingers.
I want her, so fucking bad.
By the time I make it to the room I’m staying in and take a seat on the bed, Isabelle walks in the door. “You’re not a nice guy,” she says, standing in the middle of the room.
“Get over here and tell me that,” I dare her, signaling for her to come to me using the same two fingers she was just grinding against.
She doesn’t move.
“Come here. Now,” I order her.
She folds her arms over her breasts and tilts her head sharply to one side, causing her hair to flip. “Or what?”
“You don’t want to find out.”
“Maybe I do.”
“No,” I say, and let out a long yawn I didn’t realize was coming. It’s barely six in the morning, and I didn’t make it back to bed until after three. “You really don’t. Get over here. I’m still tired, but don’t underestimate me. I’ll chase you through this pool house if I have to. And when I catch you and spank your ass until it’s bright fucking red, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“You wouldn’t do that.”
“Try me.”
Finally, after a minute of looking as though she’s contemplating being chased, she smiles and walks over to me. She sits next to me on the bed. “I don’t know if I like this room,” she says, looking around. “What exactly is this theme? Royal Victorian?”
“Something like that. But you’re changing the subject.” With one half turn, I roll her and pin her to the bed. “Do I need to repeat my demonstration, or are you going to answer me?”
“All right,” she cries out. “Yes. That’s my answer.”
“Yes? Yes, you want me? Or yes, some random guy will do?”
“What you said first,” she admits in a whisper.
“Say it, then.”
“Dammit. I want you, Knox Steele…I want you.”
I lower to the bed and kiss her hard on her lips. “Good,” I whisper, and move off of her again. “Let’s get some shuteye.”
“What?”
“I was up with Pops for a few hours. I need a little more rest.” I get out of the bed and as I stand, reach my hand out to her. “You coming? We can sleep in the master bedroom, since you prefer it in there.”
She takes my hand but lets out a grunt. “I don’t understand you, you know? You just did all of that to get me to admit that I want you, then you tell me you want to sleep.”
I lead the way back to the master bedroom. “I want to do a lot more than sleep, but I’m respecting your wishes. You said no messing around this weekend. Prying eyes and meddling parents, remember?”
“Yes, but… okay you’re right.”
“But I’m not making any such promises when we hit Manhattan city limits on Monday.”
“Deal.” She crawls into bed and I climb in after her. We both lie on our backs at first, then she laces her hand into mine between our bodies. “Good night.”
“Night, Belle.”
16
Knox
I wake up to Isabelle on top of me, sleeping sideways across my chest. Her face is turned to the side, arms wrapped around my neck, her breasts at my ribs, and her legs stretched out next to me.
The bedside clock says it’s one in the afternoon.
I’m wide awake now, but she’s sleeping so peacefully that I lie there for a while, not wanting to disturb her. I watch her, in awe of how something so simple can bring me such calm. Like the way her heart beats against my ribcage. Or that when I take a breath, it lifts her body too, as though she’s a part of me. Or seeing some of her hair fall over her shoulder onto mine.
The sound of heels clicking on the granite floors gets my attention. There are only two other female guests staying with us this weekend, but really, that noise can also be coming from one of the event staff or day cleaners. They shouldn’t be here. No one else has a key to this place. I try to remember if I locked the front door or the sliding doors to the pool area. Probably not. The regular staff know not to come in. I assume that the error was mine, and gently slide Isabelle off my chest to her side of the bed so I can check it out.
“Who’s there?” I ask after pulling my bedroom door closed behind me to keep the sounds from waking Isabelle. I neglect to throw a t-shirt on, but at least I’m covered from the waist down with a pair of sweatpants slung low on my hips, even if there’s nothing underneath.
“Good morning, Knox and Isabelle!” says the voice coming from down the hall.
It can’t be any of the staff. These people are professionals. They don’t call their bosses or clients by their first names. Ever. Even when we ask them to do so.
I follow the sound of their voice, and find Tandy sitting in a high back bar stool at the kitchen’s breakfast island. She has a cup of coffee in one hand and her eyes are cast downward as she flips through some type of
