Juniper Hill (The Edens #2)(47)

This man, holy God he had stamina. Knox never tired. He never stopped, just fucked, exactly like a woman should be fucked. Long and with rapt attention.

The sound of our labored breaths echoed in the dark room.

The magnificent tension built higher and higher with each of his thrusts until I felt like glass ready to shatter.

“Come.” Knox dropped his mouth to my pulse and sucked.

Hard. Then he pistoned his hips, hitting that spot inside that made me see stars.

I exploded around him, pulsing and squeezing, as the world disappeared. There was nothing but us and the fall over the edge.

Tremors racked my body and with a groan, he buried his face in my hair, his own limbs shaking, and gave in to his own orgasm.

His heart thundered as he collapsed on top of me.

“Goddamn, Memphis.”

“That was . . .” I wrapped my arms and legs around him, not wanting to lose the weight. But he shifted, rolling to his side and pulling me into his chest.

“That was fucking fire.”

I smiled against his throat, content to sleep exactly like this, our bodies damp with sweat and tangled together. But my son had other ideas.

A tiny cry carried through the house. I rolled off the bed, scurrying for my clothes. Then I jogged to the kitchen, rushing to get a bottle and formula from the diaper bag.

I’d just filled it with water when a shirtless Knox came striding down the hallway, passing the kitchen for the guest bedroom. He emerged moments later with Drake in his arms.

“I can take him,” I said.

“I’ve got him.” He stole the bottle from my hand and walked to the couch, settling down with the baby.

I curled up on the other end, tucking my legs beneath me.

Those two were a sight. A dream.

Drake looked content in Knox’s arms. Knox seemed happy too.

“This was a best day,” I whispered. “Top five.”

“Tell me about them. Your top five best days.”

“You already know the first.”

“Drake’s birthday.”

I nodded. “Early on in labor, when the contractions weren’t coming one on top of another, this nurse brought me in a basket of knitted baby hats. A woman who volunteered in the nursery made them for all the new babies. I picked out this soft gray one, and as I held it, I had this feeling like I was exactly where I needed to be. Have you ever felt like that?”

“Yeah. The day I moved home from San Francisco and walked into the kitchen at The Eloise.”

“It’s a good feeling.”

“That it is.” He glanced down at my son. “What about the other days?”

“My third best day was the day I graduated from college.

My girlfriends and I planned this amazing party. We got all dressed up and went clubbing and drank champagne and danced all night.”

The memory of that night wasn’t as bright as it had been. I hadn’t spoken to any of those friends in months. We’d drifted apart some after college, each of us busy with fledgling careers. Then I’d gotten pregnant and my clubbing nights had disappeared and with them, my friends.

Friends who weren’t really friends. I still liked their photos on Instagram. They sent the occasional text to check in. But our lives had gone in different directions.

“My fourth-best day was a trip I took to Hawaii for work,”

I said. “We’d just opened a hotel on Maui, and I’d gone out to work with the local marketing team to get some pictures and content for social media. I flew out early and spent an entire day on the beach, reading and napping and doing nothing but listening to the sound of the waves.”

“When was that?”

“A couple years ago. It was my most peaceful day.”

Because not long after, I’d met Oliver. And he’d brought chaos to my life.

“I haven’t been to the beach in ages.” Knox took the empty bottle from Drake and set it on the end table. Then he shifted my son over his shoulder, patting his back. “Okay, what’s the next best?”

“The day I moved into my townhouse in the city.” Another best day tainted.

I’d hoped to buy the townhouse from my parents. The location had been fantastic, just a short walk to some of my favorite restaurants. There’d been a coffee shop three blocks away. Its only rival for a vanilla latte was Lyla’s. The townhouse’s interior I’d decorated exactly to my style, classy and chic and comfortable.

I gave Knox a sad smile. “I really loved that place.”

“Is that why your dad took it away?”

“Probably.”

My father had wanted his way. And like he had our entire lives, he kept his children in line by taking away the things we loved.

“Sorry, honey. Gotta say . . . I’m not cool with your dad.”

“I’m not cool with him either.”

When I’d first told Knox about my family, I hadn’t wanted them to seem ugly. But as the days passed, as Knox interacted with Eloise or Anne popped into the hotel to check on her kids, I began to see my parents’ true colors. Black and lifeless and empty.

Drake let out a burp so loud it filled the room. I blurted out a laugh, so did Knox, and then Drake cooed a sleepy yawn before passing out.

“So what was your fifth-best day?”

“I just told you. The townhouse day.”