Knight Page 42


I got an A and I didn’t even study.

I grinned and whispered back, “Consider it marked, Knight.”

He grinned back and gave me a squeeze. Then he let me go, retrieved the bag and walked to my kitchen.

“And in the bag is…?” I asked, trailing off my words as I trailed him to the kitchen.

“A guarantee you’ll keep that ass, those tits and that Buddha belly,” he answered, dumping it on my counter.

God, how on earth did I find a man like this man who was so darned into me? Just me. Exactly me

I didn’t give it too much headspace. I just smiled a smile that said precisely how happy this made me and his head turned from the bag to me. Then I watched as his body went completely still and he stared at me.

I noticed as it was impossible to miss, my smile faded and I asked, “Are you okay?”

“Fuck,” he muttered.

My brows drew together.

“Knight? Are you okay?”

He was staring at me but I realized he wasn’t seeing me, he was miles away, when he focused on me. And his focus was so extreme it was a physical thing, enveloping me.

No, ensnaring me.

“You like how I did you this morning?” he asked and it was rapped out, abrupt, sharp and all that after the easy we were sharing was shocking.

“Yes,” I whispered.

And just when I thought I had him figured out, I was back to confused at all things Knight Sebring.

“You want more?” he asked and I felt my body start trembling.

“Yes,” I answered hesitantly.

“You gonna give it up, take what I give, however I give it, however you get it?”

My hand went out and curled around the edge of the counter but my head nodded.

“You earn it, you prepared to accept punishment?”

“Knight,” I whispered.

“Answer me.”

Oh God.

“Yes,” I said softly.

“The clothes, the shoes, the phone, my place, a car comin’ to get you, my club, you into that?”

“Yes,” I repeated softly.

“That goes away, you still into me?”

“Knight, what’s this about?”

“I asked you a question, Anya.”

Okay, now I was getting angry.

So it was snapped when I replied, “I’ve got clothes and I almost had the money for a phone and I’m not destitute so I can pay the cover charge, even at your club, which, by the way, is definitely the coolest club in Denver but still the cover charge is extortionate. So yes, Knight. That goes away, I’m still into you.”

He stared at me.

I kept getting angry and I did it fast until I just plain was.

So I told him, “And by the way, what I said last night that you thought was uncool, you’re right. It was. But in my defense I said it as you were laying some pretty heavy stuff on me. And just so you know, what you just said to me was just as uncool. I returned the phone, Knight. And if you want it all back, except the phone which I’ve used but that too, and the stuff I wore last night, it’s all got its tags still. You can take it. Return it. Give it to someone in your smorgasbord. Whatever. Just don’t tell me and I’ll make it easy for you to do that because if you think I’m using you, I’ll be happy to stop making you think I’m doing that by going away.”

“My smorgasbord?” he asked, brows rising.

“Your smorgasbord of pu**y at your club,” I explained, my face set so hard I could feel it.

He studied me.

Then he murmured, “My smorgasbord of pu**y.”

“Yeah.”

“My smorgasbord of pu**y,” he repeated, still murmuring.

“Yeah!” I snapped somewhat loudly.

Knight burst out laughing.

I watched thinking he really looked good doing that. I was also thinking I wanted to find one of my frying pans and clock him with it. I was also thinking I just might cry. And, lastly, I was wishing my apartment was bigger so I could go somewhere, lock the door and throw a tantrum, scream, sob or all of the above.

His laughter died down to a chuckle and he ordered, “Come here, babe.”

“If I don’t, will you spank me?” I shot back.

His face got serious and he replied shortly, “Yes.”

Damn.

I stomped to him.

He turned to me, pulled me in his arms and held me close.

Then he dipped his face close and asked quietly, “You been lookin’ into me?”

“No,” I answered sharply. “Vivica has. And beware, Knight, she’s protective, crazy and as tenacious as you. She loves me. She knows everything about me. She wants me to have a good life and she does that in a way where I could swear she wants that more for me than she does for her own damned self. So her normal extreme curiosity, when it comes to my future happiness and those who might or might not be giving it to me, ratchets up to ludicrous. Though, that said, she’s already given you her seal of approval and since that seal isn’t a seal so much as a brand burned in so the scar never heals, I think you’re good. Unless you’re a terrorist which, she’s informed me, is the only reason why she’d stop loving you for me.”

That was a lot, too much, but I still didn’t shut up, I was that angry.

“Oh, and, if you don’t play me, she’s naming her first son after you.”

That was when I shut up only to see Knight smiling white and blinding at me.

Then he asked, “You done?”

“Yes,” I clipped.

“You wanna tell me why you’re so pissed?” he asked.

“No, but you won’t let me not do it so I will in order to avoid Knight Hassle. No way, in my life, would I be able to afford a phone like you gave me. The dresses either. The shoes, any of it. I came home to those bags, Knight, and I didn’t think of returning it like the phone because I let you in. All I thought was never, never in my life, would I ever imagine myself standing in my living room with my couch I got for a steal because it was on sale and had a rip in the cushion, my yard sale coffee table, my dinette a friend gave me, and see strewn across it luxurious beauty that someone thought enough about me to give to me. My parents died when I was seven but they weren’t millionaires. Our life was good. It was loving. It was happy but I’d never been spoiled. You spoiled me and if it happened once or a hundred thousand times, I know I’d never get used to it because I never in my life expected it. Each time would be a treasure and that treasure would not be the stuff you gave me. It would be that you gave it to me. And, Knight, that’s because since my parents died, I learned not to expect anything. Life was going to be what I made it, what I worked for it to be, what I earned. So that moment was beautiful to me and you sullied it by intimating that I was using you and I’m pissed because feeling pissed is better than feeling hurt which is really what I feel.”

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