I gulp. Once, twice.
His hold tightens on my throat. “Bloody hell. You are, right?”
“No.” The word is so quiet, so damn inaudible that I’m surprised he even hears it.
“Fuck.” He pulls out of my aching pussy and releases me.
I stand there, lamely getting my clothes together and trying to resist the remnants of a panic attack that’s trying to grab hold of me.
Knox’s movements are jerkier than mine—violent, even—as he zips his pants and runs a hand through his glorious hair. “Why aren’t you on birth control? Who the fuck is not on birth control these days?”
“Me.” I get in his face and snatch my glasses that he placed in his pocket, then put them on. “And why are you angry at me? You’re the one who didn’t use a condom.”
“I don’t exactly walk around with them in the street.”
“Well, you shouldn’t have fucked me in the street then.”
He stares down at me, his golden eyes catching a glimpse of the sun and shining just as bright.
“Bloody hell,” he mutters under his breath. “Just take the morning-after pill.”
“I don’t need you to tell me. I was going to do it anyway.”
“Fantastic.”
“Great.”
“Perfect.”
“Awesome.” I tip my chin at him, then we both stare away at the same time, and I mutter, “Hmph, as if I would ever want something else with you.”
He’s in my face in a second. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing.”
“Next time, either say what you’re thinking or don’t say it at all.”
“There won’t be a next time.”
He smiles, and it’s beautiful and a little sadistic, and I can’t help feeling like I’m caught right in the middle of it.
“Oh, there fucking will be. Especially now that you’re joining my team.”
16
KNOX
“Have you ever forgotten to wrap it?”
I realize the mistake in asking the question the moment it leaves my lips. The fucker Dan stares at me funny, tilting his head to the side and nearly dropping the cup of coffee from his hand.
He swallows the contents of his mouth slowly, then places the cup on the table. “Did you just say forget to wrap it? As in, you forgot to wrap it?”
I stand, facing the window that overlooks New York City, and think of a million ways to somehow go back a minute in time.
Or maybe a day, because ever since I fucked Anastasia in public, bare and against a fucking wall, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.
About the way she felt, how she moaned and clenched and came undone around me.
She was a masterpiece, one I didn’t know I needed until she was there, at that moment, all mine for the taking.
And fuck me if I remembered to put on a condom.
Yes, I lied. I did in fact have a condom on me. Ever since that first time in the supply room, I always walk around with one.
But at that moment when she was completely at my mercy, her wetness soaking my fingers and her body glued to mine, I completely forgot about the bloody condom.
I never fuck without a condom. Fucking ever.
All that information was background noise with Anastasia. Completely and utterly unimportant.
“I’m just asking you. It’s a hypothetical situation, Dan.”
“Don’t give me that bollocks. It’s you, isn’t it?” He stands up and circles me like a curious cat. “You did! Who was it? Just tell me it’s not a blonde.”
“It is.” Originally, at least.
“Blimey, that’s a game-changer, but it’s fine.” He holds an imaginary microphone. “What’s her name? Her number? Why didn’t you invite me to fuck her?”
“That won’t be happening.”
“What? Why? Wait a minute. You found your girl from Jersey! She’s also blonde and you’re all secretive about her.”
“She’s not…” I trail off, because the thought of her being my girl turns my blood hot. If it were any other time, it would’ve been freezing cold at the thought of commitment.
I’ve never liked that, commitment, never seen the point behind it. Which is why I’ve never had a relationship or brought a girl home, never introduced them to Dad or my sisters.
The possibility of Anastasia meeting them makes me pause. I wonder how they’d feel about her and if—
I internally shake my head, forbidding those thoughts from going any further.