Juniper Hill (The Edens #2)(45)

“Yes.” I trusted Knox. With my body. With my heart.

He was leaning in, his lips almost brushing mine, when he froze.

“What?”

“Drake.”

Oh, shit. What was wrong with me? I’d been seconds away from jumping Knox and my son was sleeping in his crib. “I’m a horrible mother.”

Knox chuckled. “You’re not a horrible mother. But let’s take this to my place.”

“I don’t have a baby monitor.” They were expensive, and since Drake and I lived in a single room, what was the point?

“Think he’ll stay asleep if you load him up?”

“Maybe.”

“Worth a shot. You get him.” Knox set me down on my feet. “I’ll get the crib.”

I tiptoed across the loft, picking up Drake and wrapping him in a blanket.

In the time it took me to pull on a cardigan and step into a pair of shoes, Knox had the crib folded up and the diaper bag hung over his shoulder.

Maybe this was reckless. Not long ago, I’d had a nuclear explosion of a breakup. Yet as I followed Knox across the driveway to his house, my feet danced over the gravel. A smile pinched my cheeks.

Every step was full of anticipation. Every heartbeat thrummed beneath my skin.

Knox Eden, for tonight, was mine.

He led the way into the house, then straight down the hallway toward the guest bedrooms. He set up Drake’s crib like a man who’d done it a hundred times, not once.

Like a father.

I pressed a kiss to my son’s head. Drake let out a squeak as I laid him in his bed. Then I held my breath, both Knox and I hovering over the crib’s rail. “Is this weird?”

“What?” Knox whispered.

“Shuffling a baby around in the night so we can . . . you know.” So I could climb Knox like a naked tree.

“You think this killed the mood?”

“Did it?” Please say no. My body was strung tight and after a week of kissing, I ached for more.

Knox took one of my hands, bringing it to his hard, flat stomach. Then, with his palm covering my knuckles, he dragged it lower and lower over his jeans. His hardness made me gasp. “That answer your question?”

My mouth went dry. That was not a small bulge behind his zipper.

Drake scrunched up his nose and shifted, but then he relaxed and drifted off again. Sleep. Please, baby. Sleep.

Knox kept a grip on my hand and dragged me out of the room, leaving the door open so we could hear Drake if he cried. Then we were hurrying down the hallway. He didn’t slow his long strides for me, he just pulled, the urgency in his movements matched by my own.

But I guess I wasn’t walking fast enough because when we reached the living room, he turned and swept me up and over a shoulder, carting me the rest of the way to his bedroom in a fireman’s hold.

“Oh my God.” I giggled as his palm smacked my ass. Then I was flying through the air, a yelp caught in my throat, before I landed on his bed. “Your house has a lot of windows for a caveman.”

He grinned, his handsome face muted in the dim moonlight that crept through the glass. Then he leaned forward, his arms planted beside me in the bed. “You are mine. Whether we do this tonight or not.”

He was going to make me fall in love with him, wasn’t he?

I put my palm against his bearded cheek, then leaned in, closing the distance, and took his mouth.

Knox’s intensity met mine, desire curling between my legs. The ache I’d had for him came to new life as his hands slipped beneath the thin fabric of the camisole I’d pulled on with my pajama bottoms.

He moved me deeper into the bed and then he was everywhere, kissing down my neck while his hands roamed my ribs and the soft swell of my breasts. My cardigan was stripped from beneath me and tossed to the floor.

My hands threaded into his hair as I let the scent of his bedroom wrap around me. Soap and sage and Knox.

Every touch, every caress, made the throb in my core pulse stronger. “More.”

Knox ignored me and continued his delicious torture, never touching me where I needed him to touch me, just getting close. And damn it, we were both fully clothed. I was about to crawl out of my skin if I didn’t get to touch his.

My fingers abandoned his hair to pull and tug at his shirt, but every time I had the hem tugged up his spine, he twisted and I lost my grip. “You’re killing me.”

“Slow. Remember?”

“That’s a horrible idea.”

“Just making sure you’re ready.” He dipped lower, dragging his tongue across my collarbone. His hand slid down my belly, dipping below the elastic waistband of my pajama pants. Then those long fingers were beneath my panties, gliding through my wet folds.

“Knox.” I arched into his touch, my eyes falling closed.

His lips traveled lower and lower. A hand came to free my breast. Then his hot mouth closed over a nipple and I nearly came undone.

It had been a long time since I’d felt worshiped. Sexy. My body came alive beneath his touch and the more he toyed, the more I trembled.

“Don’t come,” he ordered.

My eyes flew open. “What?”

He gave me a wicked grin. “Don’t come. Not yet.”

“Then you’d better stop.”

His hand came out of my pants and he climbed off the bed. The moment he reached for the hem of his shirt, I propped up on an elbow and refused to blink as he dragged it over his head. I’d seen him shirtless through the window, but damn. There was nothing like a close-up view of those washboard abs. The definition at his hips was mouthwatering. He had the V that disappeared past the waistband of his jeans.