I was in too deep. I was drowning. She’d pulled me in over my head, and I was the dumb bastard who’d gone willingly. Forgetting everything I’d learned, every promise I’d ever made, every reason why I couldn’t do this.
The possibility that it was already too late loomed large.
“Knox.” Her sob was broken, and I felt her walls flutter around my throbbing dick. My blood pulsed in response.
I stroked my hand down her back, worshiping the silky warmth under my palm.
Naomi pulled her head out of the pillow and looked over her shoulder at me. Her hair was a mess, her lips swollen, lids heavy. She was seconds from coming. From giving me that miracle. My balls tightened, and I dug my teeth into my lip.
I needed this. I needed to give her this. One last time.
I dragged her up so we were both on our knees. Her back flush to my front.
She lifted her arms overhead, reaching back to grip my neck, my shoulder.
“Please, Knox. Please,” she begged.
I didn’t need any further encouragement. I gripped her breast with one hand and sent the other sliding lower, between her legs where we were still joined.
One testing thrust, and her head fell back against my shoulder.
I pulled out almost all the way before driving back in.
She was coming. Her muscles undulated around me, gripping my cock, as I worked her clit, mindlessly driving her over the edge.
And then I was following her. Diving off the cliff behind her, letting her orgasm milk mine. I came hard, deep. Giving up that first hot spurt to her felt so fucking right.
She bowed back, accepting what I had to give her. Relishing it even.
I fucking loved it.
I fucking loved her.
It wasn’t until I was empty, still moving in her, still chasing that high, that I remembered how fucking wrong it was. How fucked up I was doing this to her when I knew what came next.
But I couldn’t stop myself.
Just like I couldn’t stop myself from pushing us both to the mattress, my arms wrapped tight around her chest, holding her to me.
I was still inside her as I plotted how I was going to end it all.
An hour later, Naomi was sound asleep as I slipped out of bed.
I wanted a drink. A double of something strong enough to make me forget, to make me stop caring. And because I craved the numbness, I ignored it and filled a glass of water instead.
“Someone’s dehydrated.”
I was rattled enough to let my own grandmother startle me.
“Jesus, Liza J. What’re you sneakin’ around for?”
She flipped on the light switch, studying me behind her bifocals.
“Been a long time since you snuck a girl into your bed here,” she observed. She was wearing plaid pajama shorts and a matching short-sleeved top. She looked like a lumberjack on summer vacation.
“I never snuck a girl into my bed under your roof,” I lied.
“Bullshit. So Callie Edwards just happened to be checking the porch roof at one o’clock in the morning summer of your senior year?”
I’d forgotten about Callie. And all the other ones. It was like my brain only had room for one woman now. And that was the problem.
“Don’t mind seein’ you with them,” she said, bumping me out of the way so she could get her own glass of water.
“Seein’ me with who?”
Liza shot me a “cut the bullshit” look. “Naomi. Waylay too. You seem happy.”
I wasn’t. I was anything but happy. I was one step away from a downward spiral I’d never recover from. A spiral that would destroy everything I’d built.
“It’s nothing serious,” I said, feeling defensive.
“I saw the look on your face when you came here last night. When you saw how close trouble got to your girl.”
“She’s not my girl,” I insisted, deliberately ignoring her point.
“She’s not yours, she’s bound to end up as someone else’s. Pretty girl like that? Thoughtful. Sweet. Funny. Sooner or later, someone with an IQ higher than yours will be along.”
“Good.”
She’d find someone else. She deserved someone else. Someone far from here, where I wouldn’t have to run into her in the produce aisle or see her across the bar or down the street. Naomi Witt would just fade away into a ghost of a memory.
Except I knew it wasn’t true. She wouldn’t fade away. The hook was set. I’d taken the bait. There wouldn’t be a day in the rest of my life that I didn’t think about her. That I wouldn’t say her name in my head a dozen times just to remind myself that I had her once.