Midnight Muse

When I tug the door open, Knox barges inside, all but tackling me on the way. His hands find my hips like a magnet and I’m swept up in the heat of his body as it collides with mine. He walks me further into the apartment, kicking the door shut behind him.

“Hurry,” he whispers, and his long strides are no match for my shorter legs. I feel like I’m tripping backwards, tangled up in him, but Knox holds me steady and firm, like a rock I’ve been missing from my life.

It’s quite nice.

Knox reaches behind himself to lock the door before he’s turning back to me and planting a teasing kiss to my forehead. I pout, wanting his lips on mine instead, and his eyes flicker with mischief. “Before Tye sees me.”

I laugh, wrapping my arms around him. He’s snug in his usual garb, a black t-shirt that clings to his body like a second skin, showing off the impressive tattoos on his arms. His jeans sit low on his hips, the waistband of his briefs calling my name. The fact that I know exactly what’s beneath these clothes is as intoxicating as his blissful scent: nighttime and pine.

“Who’s Tye?”

“Old friend,” Knox huffs. “He was just arriving at the party. If he saw me, he would’ve wanted me to tap the keg with him and I’d much rather be here, tapping you, Princess.”

I shove playfully at his chest but Knox catches my wrists and pulls me back into him for a proper kiss. I fall into it, relaxing against him and even pressing myself further into his body. His hands slide around my waist and over the curve of my ass where he grabs a handful, sighing in content against my lips.

Knox has been the perfect gentleman since the exhibition, and has even offered to walk me to my classes, though I suspect that has more to do with Reid than not wanting me to walk alone, even though I share most of my classes with Rory.

“Hi,” I whisper bashfully when he pulls away. Seeing Knox these days never fails to make my heart race, especially when he rests his forehead against mine, like he doesn’t want to be more than a few inches apart. Knox’s jade eyes swim with happiness as his heated gaze bores into mine.

I can also feel just how happy he is against my stomach.

“Hey,” he answers just as softly. “I missed you.”

“It’s only been a few hours, Knox,” I remind him, but my chest flutters again because I missed him too. I allowed him to walk me home after my last class of the day but had drawn the line at the door that he pressed me up against, using that wicked mouth of his to try and convince me to let him inside. After a thorough minute of persuasion, he backed off, leaving me with a cheeky wink and my pussy screaming at me to call him back to finish what he started.

“Yeah, but dealing with Slate feels like a lifetime has gone by sometimes,” he jokes, following me eagerly as I lead him through the apartment towards my room. It hits me that he hasn’t properly been inside of the apartment before, only having seen it when he walked in on me on accident, because we’re usually locked away in his bedroom, with that cloud-like mattress and all.

There will be time to give him a tour later. Right now, I want him in my room. Preferably, in my bed.

“What was he doing this time?” I ask, squealing when Knox pinches my ass, grinning dopily at me when I whirl around to glare at him.

“Sorry, Princess. I couldn’t resist,” Knox says innocently and I can’t help but grin along with him. When the corners of his mouth pull up high, there’s a crinkle around his glowing eyes that makes my heart skip a beat. He looks younger, sweeter with that look on his face. Knox is a very handsome man. “He was trying to get me to join in on the party. Think he was trying to rally some girls to play flip cup or something.”

Knox frowns when he steps into my room, hearing just how loud the music is. I give him a knowing look and melt at the color that stains his cheeks as he ducks his head, trying to hide his smile from me.

Like I said, Douchewaffle.

“Sounds a lot more entertaining than Art History,” I grumble, slumping back into the chair at my desk. My body warms as Knox comes to stand behind me, planting a hand beside my notes and resting his chin on top of my head so he can lean over to read my textbook.

“Catacombs,” he comments, and I can feel the delicious rumble of his full-toned voice. It makes me shiver in my seat and I wonder if he notices my reaction, how I’m trying to stifle my body’s desperate attempts to claw at him as his words wash over me, warmth settling between my thighs. “I remember this. Passed it with flying colors.”

“Of course you would be good at it,” I groan. Knox slips to my side, planting himself firmly on the edge of my desk. “You’re good at everything.” When his eyes gleam as he preens, I narrow my own. “Oh, shut up.”

“Didn’t even say anything, Princess,” he muses. “If I help you out with Art History, will you be good for me too?”

I can’t help the rush of arousal spilling into my veins like a shot of adrenaline. The way he’s staring down at me through lowered lids, smirk turned into a face more serious, it’s a taunt as much as it is an offer.

“You wish,” I murmur back, because I don’t trust my voice to be any louder. There’s no heat behind my response because it’s all trapped between my thighs that I’m clenching together as tight as a snare.

“I do,” Knox responds, gaze fiery.

And, well, those catacombs will still be there tomorrow.

I allow Knox to pull me up from my chair into his chest. His hands find my hips while I wrap mine around his neck, admiring him. It’s a soft moment backed by the buzzing bass of Slate’s party but I couldn’t be any happier right now, with Knox holding me like this in his arms.

Trailing my fingers down his chest, he watches me, bright eyes never leaving mine as I swiftly slide my hands under the hem of his shirt. I can feel his dick hardening in his pants as I glide my fingers across his abdomen, reveling in the smooth skin of his stomach, dancing over the ridges of muscle.

His grip tightens on my hips but I urge him with a soft tug to take the shirt off. Reluctantly, he pries his hands away from me only long enough to rip the fabric over his shoulders and then they’re back, pulling me closer than before.