Craving The Wrong Brother (Sloane and Knox) novel Chapter 86

Chapter 86

Chapter 86

Her breathing’s changed–sofer now, deeper. The kind that happens when she’s turned on and trying to pretend the hole. 1 can picture her perfectly. Back pressed against a wall, lips pursed in that half–annoyed, half–aroused way due does what’s got under her skin. Probably still dressed in whatever office thing she wore to work today ben is thinking, phy

now.

“You, mister,” she finally says, “are a very naughty man. I didn’t even get to say what I called for, and you’re ready steering, the conversation straight to flirtation.”

“What you called for?” I ask as I pull onto the road. “It’s Friday. I assumed this was a booty call. I’m already rerouting to your house.”

“Knox Hartley! This is not a booty call.”

“It’s not?”

“No.”

“Prove it.”

“What?”

“If you didn’t call because you missed my dick, prove it. Say so.”

I can hear her hiding a chuckle,

“I’m not always a horny girlfriend, you know?” she says.

“Then prove it, Bunny. Tell me why else you called.”

“It can’t be said over the phone.”

That slows me. “Can’t be said over the phone and it’s not sex? You pregnant?”

“What?! No! Where the hell did that come from?”

“A man can guess, can’t he?” I say. “Just hang on tight, baby. I’m coming to give you what you

want.”

Then I hang up.

She’s probably rolling her eyes at the ceiling but also smiling. I know that smile. It’s the one she tries to fight, the one that melts into her cheeks when she doesn’t want to admit how badly she needs me.

I keep driving. The route to her place is familiar by now, stitched into muscle memory. I turn up the music for a few miles- just enough to let the fight leave my bones and the anticipation take its place. By the time I pull up in front of her building. it’s already dark. The new window I installed is still intact. No signs of Finn or flying hammers.

I park, kill the engine, grab my gym bag, and head for the lobby. I give a quick nod to the doorman, who calls me by my name in greeting. I take the stairs, heart already picking up its pace as I near her floor.

When I knock, the door opens almost immediately.

“I can’t believe you actually knocked,” she says. “Are you turning into a gentleman?”

She steps into view, and my whole body goes still.

Fuck.

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Chapter 86

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She’s dressed in a form–fitting dress that belongs on a damn billboard. Sinful curves wrapped in soft fabric, cleavage sculpted to kill, that short hem showing off legs that have no business being in public. Her hair’s pinned up, her glasses are perched low on her nose, and her makeup is just enough to make a man ache.

I stare. Slowly. Top to bottom. Then back up again.

“Fuck me,” I murmur, every bit of blood rushing south. “You look stunning.”

She blushes. Actually blushes. Her gaze drops for a second, and she tucks a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

“Do a spin.” I say, stepping into the doorway. “I want to see all of you.”

She gives me a look that’s half amusement, half challenge. But she turns. Slowly. The back of the dress dips low–so low there’s nothing but bare skin and a sliver of spine. I swear under my breath and step all the way inside, nudging the door shut with the side of my foot.

As she turns back around, I’m already in front of her. I lay my palm flat against her lower back.

“No,” she says quickly, stepping back. “Back away, mister. We have things to do.”

“Of course we do,” I say, my voice lowering. “They start with you taking your clothes off.”

She laughs. “I just put them on.”

“I can help you take them off.”

She backs up another step, bumping into her wall. “I put them on for a reason, Knox. I want to take you out.”

“There’s an easy way to do that. You just sit on my face.”

“I mean out, out,” she says, pointing toward the door.

I lean in, lifting her chin until our mouths are a breath apart. “Why would I want to go out,” I whisper, “when what I want is right here?”

She presses a hand against my chest, not pushing, just holding. “Don’t you think this relationship is filled with passion and lust?”

“You want it to be filled with hatred and dry spells?”

“I want,” she says, trailing her fingers across my chest, “to do this right. You’re the only person I want to hang out with right now. But I want us to see into each other’s worlds. Learn the basics. Hobbies. Favorite colors. Favorite food. We haven’t even had our first date, Knox. I want to take you to a place I loved in high school. Somewhere that mattered to me. I want us to be more comfortable with each other. More open. Boyfriend and girlfriend stuff.”

I stare at her lips, then her eyes. She’s making sense. She really is. But it’s hard to listen when all I want to do is shove her up against the wall and find out if the dress looks that good sitting atop her waist while I’m inside her. Still, if this is what she

wants…

“Okay,” I say. “Take me to this place you loved in high school.”

Her smile is soft. Grateful. She leans in and hugs me, arms sliding around my waist, cheek pressed against my chest. I keep my hands at my sides because if I touch her, I’m going to lift her, and then we’re not going anywhere.

That’s when I spot the bag sitting beside the couch.

“Going somewhere?” I ask.

She pulls back. “What?”

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Chapter 86

“The bag.”

“Oh.” She grins sheepishly. “That. I’m spending the weekend at your place.”

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I smile, finally letting my hands touch her waist. “You should have led with that. Come on, then. We’ll go to all your nerdy high school places.”

She squeals and runs into the bedroom. I hear the sound of zippers and drawers, and then she emerges with a pair of flats and a purse.

“Let’s go,” she says, like she’s taking me to prom.

I grab her hand and lead her out, down the stairs, and out to my car. I open the passenger–side door for her because, apparently, I’m a gentleman now. She rolls her eyes but gets in. I walk around to the driver’s side, start the car, and we pull out of the lot.

We’re barely five minutes into the drive when she says, “One more thing.”

“Hmm?”

“We can’t have sex this weekend.”

I nearly brake. “I beg your pardon?”

“It’s part of the relationship–building process. We have to be able to bond this weekend without touching each other.”