Knight (Unfinished Hero #1)(37)

Knight’s smooth, deep voice said in my ear, “Sebring, leave a message.”

And the message I left was a soft, trembling, “Honey, you haven’t even kissed me yet.”

Then, feeling stupid, scared, elated, mystified and anxious not only that this felt so good, often times right, many times terrifying, sometimes confusing but also anxious that he’d given me so much, no matter what it was, that I wouldn’t live up to the promise he saw in me, I beeped the button to disconnect and stared at my booty.

Then I sucked in breath and carefully, reverently put my stash away in my bedroom before I made a quick sandwich, ate it and set up for my client at my cute, chipped, white-painted, quirky dinette that a friend gave me when she moved in with her man and he declared he would not sit his ass at that dinette.

* * * * *

I was riding an elephant. It was white, its trunk up and trumpeting.

I was in my new red dress, shoes and bangles and I was giggling.

And somewhere my cell phone was ringing.

* * * * *

My eyes opened and I saw dark. I heard my cell stop ringing and I blinked at my alarm clock.

It was twelve thirteen.

Then I heard the call up buzzer sound in my living room.

What on earth?

I threw back my new, down comforter with its subtle, soft, flowery pattern (okay, so I had more flowers but they were in another room so that was acceptable). Part sleepy, definitely groggy I dashed in my baby blue with tiny pink polka dots drawstring, pajama short-shorts and my baby pink shelf bra camisole into the living room.

I flipped on the overhead light, grabbed the phone off the wall by the side of the door and muttered, “’Lo.”

“Anya, babe, been out here five f**kin’ minutes. You gotta sleep like the dead. Buzz me up.”

My breath left me.

Knight.

I blinked. Then I shook myself and depressed the button that buzzed him up.

I heard the door outside open through the receiver then nothing.

I put the phone back in its cradle and stared at it.

He hadn’t called after my client. He hadn’t called between clients. He hadn’t called at all, not even after I left a message. This was disappointing and a little scary. But I got to sleep telling myself when my day ended, his started so I had to get over it because clearly his demonstration that day was not about game playing.

And now it was after midnight and he was here.

Here.

Right now.

Taking the elevator (maybe).

And I had bed head, no makeup and was in my pajamas.

Oh God!

Panic instantly froze me as a million thoughts coursed through my head. None of which I had time to do anything about like changing, swiping on mascara, brushing my hair and/or teeth or spritzing with perfume and I knew this because there was a knock at the door.

I shifted to it since I was standing at it, looked through the peephole and saw Knight’s handsome head tipped down staring at what I figured was my doorknob.

Suit, dark again, this time a shirt the exact color of his eyes.

God, God, he was beautiful.

Another knock. Impatient.

I jumped, unlocked the deadbolt, the twist lock on the knob and slid off and dropped the chain. Then I put my hand to the knob to turn it but it was turning in my hand already.

I jumped back when the door opened and Knight surged through.

I looked up at his face, seeing instant and extreme intensity and whispered, “Honey, is everything oh –?”

I got no further. This was because his hands were cupping my jaws and pulling me firmly up until I was on my toes at the same time his head was descending.

Then his mouth slammed down on mine.

I made a noise at the back of my throat, lifted my hands and curled my fingers into the lapel of his jacket.

His tongue darted out against my lips.

My mouth opened and it swept inside.

Oh my, he tasted good.

I whimpered, held his lapels tight as my legs got weak and my body swayed into him.

His tongue plundered my mouth and there was no other word for it. That was it, plundered. And he did this delicious activity in a kiss that was very wet, very hard, very long, very demanding and very, very amazing.

So much so, I whimpered into his mouth, one hand detaching from his lapel to slide up swiftly, around the warm, sleek skin of his neck and into the soft, thick mess of his hair. I pressed my torso deep into his as best as I could, still holding onto his jacket with his hands at my jaw.

And I gave myself to the kiss. To Knight. All of me cupped in his hands. All of me plundered by his talented tongue.

He tore his mouth from mine and I made a mew of protest because I didn’t want to lose it. It had become the reason for my being. It was existence. At the same time my fingers spasmed in his hair and I pushed even closer in a nonverbal effort to share this message.

I felt his warm breath on my lips, it was coming fast and my eyes slowly opened to look into Knight’s dark, hungry ones.

“Now I’ve kissed you, babe, feel better?” he asked, his voice rough and so… f*cking… beautiful.

I wanted to laugh because it was funny. It was also sweet.

But I couldn’t.

I could only hold on and breathe, “Yes.”

His eyes moved over my face and darkened, that intensity corresponding with the intensity of the wetness gathering between my legs and he asked, “Like the dresses?”