I flipped on the overhead light, grabbed the phone off the wall by the side of the door and muttered, “’Lo.”
“Anya, babe, been out here five fuckin’ minutes. You gotta sleep like the dead. Buzz me up.”
My breath left me.
Knight.
I blinked. Then I shook myself and depressed the button that buzzed him up.
I heard the door outside open through the receiver then nothing.
I put the phone back in its cradle and stared at it.
He hadn’t called after my client. He hadn’t called between clients. He hadn’t called at all, not even after I left a message. This was disappointing and a little scary. But I got to sleep telling myself when my day ended, his started so I had to get over it because clearly his demonstration that day was not about game playing.
And now it was after midnight and he was here.
Here.
Right now.
Taking the elevator (maybe).
And I had bed head, no makeup and was in my pajamas.
Oh God!
Panic instantly froze me as a million thoughts coursed through my head. None of which I had time to do anything about like changing, swiping on mascara, brushing my hair and/or teeth or spritzing with perfume and I knew this because there was a knock at the door.
I shifted to it since I was standing at it, looked through the peephole and saw Knight’s handsome head tipped down staring at what I figured was my doorknob.
Suit, dark again, this time a shirt the exact color of his eyes.
God, God, he was beautiful.
Another knock. Impatient.
I jumped, unlocked the deadbolt, the twist lock on the knob and slid off and dropped the chain. Then I put my hand to the knob to turn it but it was turning in my hand already.
I jumped back when the door opened and Knight surged through.
I looked up at his face, seeing instant and extreme intensity and whispered, “Honey, is everything oh –?”
I got no further. This was because his hands were cupping my jaws and pulling me firmly up until I was on my toes at the same time his head was descending.
Then his mouth slammed down on mine.
I made a noise at the back of my throat, lifted my hands and curled my fingers into the lapel of his jacket.
His tongue darted out against my lips.
My mouth opened and it swept inside.
Oh my, he tasted good.
I whimpered, held his lapels tight as my legs got weak and my body swayed into him.
His tongue plundered my mouth and there was no other word for it. That was it, plundered. And he did this delicious activity in a kiss that was very wet, very hard, very long, very demanding and very, very amazing.
So much so, I whimpered into his mouth, one hand detaching from his lapel to slide up swiftly, around the warm, sleek skin of his neck and into the soft, thick mess of his hair. I pressed my torso deep into his as best as I could, still holding onto his jacket with his hands at my jaw.
And I gave myself to the kiss. To Knight. All of me cupped in his hands. All of me plundered by his talented tongue.
He tore his mouth from mine and I made a mew of protest because I didn’t want to lose it. It had become the reason for my being. It was existence. At the same time my fingers spasmed in his hair and I pushed even closer in a nonverbal effort to share this message.
I felt his warm breath on my lips, it was coming fast and my eyes slowly opened to look into Knight’s dark, hungry ones.
“Now I’ve kissed you, babe, feel better?” he asked, his voice rough and so… fucking… beautiful.
I wanted to laugh because it was funny. It was also sweet.
But I couldn’t.
I could only hold on and breathe, “Yes.”
His eyes moved over my face and darkened, that intensity corresponding with the intensity of the wetness gathering between my legs and he asked, “Like the dresses?”
“Yes,” I repeated breathily.
“Good,” he whispered then, still in a whisper, “Gotta get back, babe.”
I blinked and my hand spasmed in his hair again.
“What?”
“Work, Anya. I got shit to do. Didn’t have time, took it to get your gratitude now I gotta get back.”
I didn’t move, held on and held his eyes.
He let me for a long happy moment before muttering, “My baby doesn’t want me to leave.”
No. I didn’t.
I didn’t share that. I let my body do the talking and it did this by continuing to hold on and not move.
“Told you, baby,” he said softly, “when I took your mouth, we’d need time so I could give it attention. Your sweet message, couldn’t wait so I didn’t. But, fuckin’ sucks, now, I gotta go.”
He’d taken time out to come all the way to me.
God.
God.
I liked that.
And he needed to go.
So I pushed away, my hand sliding out of his hair as I whispered, “Okay, honey.”
The thumbs of his hands, still at my jaw, swept my cheeks. Then he leaned in, slid his nose along mine then lifted up as he pulled my face down and kissed my forehead.
Then he tipped my face to him again.
“Later, baby.”
“Later, Knight.”
His fingers gave my face a gentle squeeze then he let me go and he was gone.
I followed him, locked the locks, turned off the light, turned my back to the door and stared into my dark living room.
Then I wrapped my arms around my middle and smiled.
Huge.
Chapter Eight
Hold the Fuck On
I walked into the nearly summer-like air of the late March night.
It was Saturday just after ten. Less than five minutes ago, I got a buzz up with the announcement, “Yo. Ride to Slade at the curb.”
And that was it.
No greeting, no introduction and I knew by the electronic click he was gone.
So I got my bag, dashed to the bathroom to give myself one last look, opened my bag to make sure everything was there and I ran down.
The car was long, big, black and gleaming. It was also double-parked. And Hulk was standing outside it wearing a black shirt, black trousers, black blazer and a scowl.
“Back’s full, woman, you take front,” he declared when I got close then he opened the passenger-side door.
I smiled into his scowl because first, I was wearing a killer outfit. Second, I had a killer night with my friends ahead of me. And third, after three days of quick phone calls, nothing at all that day and the rest of the time Knight was sight unseen, I was going to see him that night.
I slid in and twisted immediately to look into the backseat where Viv and Sandrine where sitting, decked out, eyes on me, smiles huge.
“That… dress… is… hot! Ohmigod!” Sandrine shrieked.
“No joke, fuckin’ shit, she is not lying,” Viv concurred.
I grinned and whispered, “I know.”
Their huge smiles beamed. They knew about the dresses because I’d told them. In fact, I told them everything so they had both done an understandable about-face about Knight Sebring.
Hulk slid in, twisted his tree trunk neck and aimed his scowl at me.
“Woman. Buckle,” he grunted.
I looked back at the girls then turned to face forward and followed Hulk’s orders.
The minute he heard the click, Hulk put the car in gear and we started rolling. Then he reached into his inside jacket pocket, pulled out a phone, flipped it open and hit buttons. He did all this with his eyes to the road.