Chapter 6

Knox's POV 

Her hands were roaming my chest, down to my abs, right above my bullet wound. 

She was giving in. I could feel my cock hardening in response. 

My hand, the one beneath her sundress, was about to reach where I wanted it to, but suddenly I felt her pull back slightly, a small shift in her hips. 

I wasn't ready to let her go. 

My lips left her neck and went straight back to her mouth, thinking the kiss would shut down her resistance. It didn't work. 

Her hands pressed hard against my shoulders. Our lips made a loud smack as she pushed us apart.

"Stop, Knox," she said breathlessly. "I don't think this is right."

Key word, Think. She doesn't know about the club rule, does she?

"It hasn't even been three days since I broke up with Jason," she continued. "And it just feels wrong to be doing this."

Feels wrong? That bastard cheated on her while still in a relationship with her. Yes, while still in a relationship with her. 

How did he even have her wrapped around his fingers? 

Her eyes, there was regret there, a deep regret like she had just made the biggest sin and would never be forgiven. 

That bastard better count his days, he doesn't even have days to count. He's dead.

I stood there, half of me hoping she'd change her mind and pull me close. 

Closer than I was earlier. Who was I kidding? All of me was hoping for that. But nothing. She got off the drawers.

"I need some air." She pushed me back a little, trying to leave through the small space she created.

My hand gently grabbed her wrist and pulled her straight back into my arms. 

 "No, you don't need to leave," I told her. "This is your room, I'll leave."

I dropped her wrist and walked out immediately. I shut the door quietly behind me.

I only made it five steps away before I felt my cock painfully throbbing. 

I needed to release, but the only bathroom was inside her room. I can't go back in there now.

I stepped outside, leaving the lodge and walked straight to the grass right next to where I parked my motorcycle. 

I unzipped my jeans and pulled my cock out. Fuck, so hard. My hand wrapped around it and started fisting myself. I went back to the memory of her moaning about my name. 

I quickened the pace and felt it coming. I tilted my face up to the night sky, with my teeth clenched. 

I bit back a grunt as I arrived. 

After making sure all was out on the grass, I put my cock back in and zipped up my jeans. 

I wiped the sweat from my brow with the back of my hand and stared at the window of her room. 

"The only thing wrong, little bird, is that I let you stop," I said. 

                                                  **

***

I was already awake when she stepped out of her room, the next morning. 

I was seated on the sofa, still feeling the heat in my body from last night.  

She walked right to the refrigerator, grabbed milk and went back into her room like nothing had happened. 

Like it was just another day.

"Rylan wants us at the clubhouse in an hour," I told her before she stepped back into the room. 

Her response was simple: 

"Okay." 

Now, I was resting on my motorcycle parked outside, waiting for her. 

The sun was already out, and I was waiting for the moment when the sun hit those doe brown eyes and turned them into honey. 

When she stepped out, the sun made it work just like I imagined it would and another picture of her was stored in my brain, in one of the folders I created just for her. 

She closed the door behind her and her sundress swayed with the motion.  

How many of those damn sundresses does she have? 

She was the reason I even knew the name of the dress in the first place. 

She walked closer to me. I could see her trying hard not to be awkward. 

I grabbed the helmet hanging on my motorcycle handlebar and stretched it toward her to put it on. 

I didn't try to put it on her myself. I knew she'd explode if I tried to have any physical contact with her right now. 

Her awkwardness was that obvious.

She looked around. "Where's the truck?" 

"Crow came for it, his father wanted it back." 

I had to borrow it the other night because she wouldn't ride my motorcycle. 

"I can't get on that," she said, referring to my motorcycle. 

"Don't worry, I won't speed," I assured her. It wasn't until then my eyes dropped to her neck and I saw a hickey, the one I gave her last night. 

I was so desperate to mark her, I should have put it somewhere that wasn't a death warrant. I would just get my death day closer if Rylan noticed that hickey.

She still didn't look completely convinced I wouldn't spend, but she seemed uncomfortable and wanted to leave already. 

She took the helmet and put it on. I got on my motorcycle. 

She got on behind me. 

"Where's your helmet?" she asked.

"I don't wear helmets," I said. 

The adrenaline I get when I ride, the feeling of flirting with disaster at eighty miles per hour, that's the only thing that clears my head. 

Helmets kill the rush. 

"Hold on," I said, before she could get a chance to lecture me. 

I started the engine. 

The beautiful lady behind me was still trying to figure out where to put her hands. 

She tried holding my shirt, then probably decided that wasn't a smart thing, thinking she'd fall. 

Her hands slowly slid under my arms and settled on my chest. I took in a small, ragged gasp. 

Like she wasn't torturing me enough, her hands slid down to my abs area. I could feel my cock responding in my pants.  

She'll kill me before Rylan gets a chance to do it.