Worth It (Forbidden Men #6)

Worth It (Forbidden Men #6) Page 79

Sympathy flooded her baby blues as she cupped my face in both hands. “You’re worth something to me.”

I pressed my forehead to hers. “And that’s why I’m waiting to see where you go first. Because wherever you are, that’s where I’ll be, too.”

Her lips parted. “Knox,” she whispered.

“I love you, City.” My voice broke with uncertainty as I realized this was the first time I was telling her the actual words. Aloud. “You are my future.”

“Oh my God. Oh my God.” Her fingers shook against my cheeks and her eyes went all glassy and wet. Then her trembling lips curved into the most beautiful smile ever. “Is it okay if I say it back?”

I laughed because I was so relieved. “I would actually really appreciate it if you did.”

She gave one of her high-pitched fangirl screams. “Then I love you too. Oh my God, Knox. We love each other.”

“Yeah, I caught that.” Then I kissed her, wet and opened mouth and so hungry that I grew a little too enthusiastic. Before I knew it, I was gripping her hip and grinding her down hard into my lap until she was riding my erection through our clothes, and my lips were devouring hers.

“Wait, wait, wait,” she gasped, pulling free of my mouth and pressing her head to mine.

She might’ve separated our lips, but she continued to press down on my straining cock.

“I’m sorry,” I immediately apologized. “I’m stopping. I didn’t mean to get so...”

“No, it’s okay. I just needed a minute.”

I nodded. “Take all the time you want, baby. We have the rest of our lives. We don’t have to rush anything.”

Blowing out a breath, she nodded. “Okay. Thank you.” Almost exactly one minute later, she heaved out another deep breath. Then she looked up at me and asked, “How many girls have you been with?”

Totally not expecting the question, I pulled back in surprise. Then I smirked. “I sit next to them in my Home Economics class all the time.”

She nudged my chest to scold me even as she grinned. “Shut up, Forrest Gump, I’m serious.”

Still feeling the need to tease her, because she looked kind of jealous, and I liked it, I asked, “How many do you think?”

After biting her lip a thoughtful second, she said, “Eight?”

Wondering where she’d come up with a number like that, I shook my head. “Nope.”

Cheeks paling, she croaked, “More? Oh my God, can I even count all of them on my fingers and toes?”

When I shook my head again, she began to edge away from me. She looked so crushed and horrified, I had to stop messing with her. I grabbed her hand and tugged her back. “Because the number doesn’t even reach high enough to be counted on a single finger.”

My answer confused her—I could tell because she frowned and stared at me as if I made no sense. Then her head swished back and forth. “But...”

“Zero,” I said. “The number is zero.”

Her eyes flew open wide. “Oh my God. You’re a—”

My cheeks flushed hot as I slapped a hand over her mouth. This was so damn embarrassing.

City peeled my fingers off her mouth. “You cannot be a virgin. How is that even possible?”

“Hey, you’re one too,” I hissed, reminding her she had no more experience than I did and no right to bash me, even though, okay...I was the guy. I was eighteen. I should’ve scored by now.

“Yeah, but I’m...”

When she didn’t elaborate, I lifted an eyebrow, waiting for her to explain why it was okay for her to be a virgin and not me.

She cleared her throat and motioned at me. “You’re so...so gorgeous, and smart, and charming, and just...amazing. I would’ve thought girls were constantly begging to be with you.”

“I’m also Bruce Parker’s son.” I shrugged. “It kind of makes me a pariah in these parts.”

Her nose wrinkled as if she disagreed. “That doesn’t seem fair. A lot of girls are missing out on the awesome that is you.”

“It’s no less fair than having to be the innocent preserved daughter of the great and mighty Abbott Bainbridge. I bet no one’s ever touched you before because they’re all scared shitless of your father.”

I ran my fingertip down her soft porcelain cheek. She really was pure and untouched from the ugliness of life in a way I relished about her. Being in her blissfully happy presence always gave me hope in the world.

“You’re touching me,” she rasped, clearly affected by the path of my fingers as I stroked the side of her throat.