Worth It (Forbidden Men, #6)(70)

I met her gaze and hooked my finger under it. Then I smiled as I slowly dragged it down her arm. The top part of her bra cup sagged, revealing the uppermost swell of her breast.

Breathing in through my mouth, I studied them in dazed wonder before I lifted my gaze to make sure she was doing okay.

Grinning at me, she caught my cheek in her palm and said, “You look excited yet worried.”

Bingo. “I don’t want to mess this up,” I admitted.

Shaking her head, she assured me, “That’s not even possible.” Then she bit her lip. “Unless you don’t like what you see.”

I snorted. “Now that isn’t possible.” I slid off the other strap, and the front of her bra slid down even more until I could almost see nipple.

After one last glance at her face to make sure she was okay, I folded the front down entirely.

“Oh.” I sucked in a breath I hadn’t even realized I’d been holding. “Wow.” I glanced up at her face. Her cheeks were blazing pink, but she kept smiling, so I went back to her nipples. They were rosy pink and already beaded so tight into hard buds I couldn’t help but reach out and brush my thumbs over them.

She gasped and grabbed my shoulders. “Oh!” It was her turn to gasp. “Wow.”

We shared a smile, and then I cupped their weight in my hands before flicking my thumbs over the straining nipples again.

“God, Knox.” She ground her lap down on mine. “You freaking tease.”

I gave a husky laugh and then leaned down to close my mouth over one ripe peak.

She grabbed my hair and pulled hard. “Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God.”

Sucking her in deep, I spent the rest of the afternoon enjoying the hell out of second base.





The hardest thing I ever did was sit outside the stairwell and listen to her cry.

Bad shit had happened to me, things I relived in my darkest nightmares, but I’d always been able to fight back, rage against those attacks, react. Forcing myself to not react as Felicity wept because I had hurt her slaughtered me. Something inside me withered and then crumbled into dust.

Probably my humanity.

This was best for her, though; that’s what I kept telling myself. I could only hurt her if I reentered her life.

So why the hell was she out there, bawling after I’d attempted to do the right goddamn thing? She needed to stop. She needed to stop weeping, or I was going to lose it.

I pressed my back against the wall, rested my elbows on my bent knees and cradled my head in my hands as I gritted my teeth and listened to the worst sound in the world.

And then she did stop. I’m not sure how long she’d gone on—it felt like f*cking decades and I was half delirious by that point—but the hiccups gradually subsided, then she picked herself up off the floor, and she left.

I remained, sitting just outside the stairwell, my hands shaking, my heart pounding and my vision graying at the edges.

I had no idea she’d tried to visit me in prison...and on her birthday, no less. I remembered her birthday clearly. I’d been lying on my stomach in the medical ward, trying not to cry out from the pain as they stitched the tear in my rectum back together. Turning my head away from their tray full of supplies so I didn’t have to look at all the needles and shit they were going to use on me, I’d ended up facing a bare wall with nothing but a calendar hanging on it. When I’d realized it was her eighteenth birthday, I’d closed my eyes and sung happy birthday to her in my head to distract myself from what was happening.

Recalling that day didn’t calm me any, though. Rage, the same sick need to destroy that I’d had the night before in Pick’s office, rallied inside me. I had a bad feeling as soon as I stood up, I’d take out the entire hall, rip every door off its hinge, dent in all the walls, heave the fire extinguisher out the window. So I sat there clenching and unclenching my hands and concentrating on breathing.

I was focusing so hard on keeping myself together, I didn’t hear the footsteps on the stairs until Eva rounded the corner with a baby on her hip and her free arm loaded with bags.

“Oh! Knox. Sorry, I didn’t see you there.” She had to dance around my feet to avoid tripping over them.

As I pulled my legs in closer to my body and gaped up at her in horror, she grinned back, having no clue how close to detonating I was.

“Thank God you decided to come back. I got you some clothes this morning. I guessed on sizes, so fingers crossed that something actually fits.”

I stood because it seemed wrong to sit in front of her while she was standing there, loaded down with so much weight.

“I can carry something.”

I reached for the bags, but she handed me the kid. I froze, scared out of my mind, as soon as the little girl landed in my arms.

Why the hell was she handing me her child while I was like this? I could lose my control at any second. But neither mother nor daughter seemed to care. As Eva strode ahead of me toward their apartment door, Skylar grinned at me, clutched a handful of my shirt and babbled out a greeting.

My stomach clenched as I stared back. She could’ve been Bentley if her hair had been red. She could’ve been my sweet, innocent niece who’d died a tragic death, but she was a real live girl, here in my arms and gazing at me with absolute trust.

A cold sweat dripped down my back. I hurried after Eva and halted just inside the doorway, hesitating when Pick and Julian entered the living room from the kitchen, the scent of coffee following him. He paused when he saw me, and I remembered what he’d said the night before. He trusted me with his children.