Worth It (Forbidden Men #6)

Worth It (Forbidden Men #6) Page 95

But she’d get over it, I told myself. Breaking her heart and pushing her away so she could go on to live a happy life with all her Forbidden friends was better than letting her get caught up with me, when I’d no doubt self-destruct one day and take her down with me.

She was safer this way.

“I want you tonight,” I repeated. “I want to go all the way with you.”

Knox stared at me, dazed, for a full five seconds before he muttered, “Jesus, City. You know I want you too. It’s all I can think about. But I wasn’t expecting this tonight. I...I’m not ready.”

I blinked, not at all expecting him to say that. I tried to pull away, feeling slutty and gross. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to push. If you’re not ready, I—”

He caught my arms, keeping me close, and laughed.

“No, baby. You misunderstood. I’m not ready as in...I didn’t bring anything.” When I only blinked at him, confused, he lifted an eyebrow and added, “A condom.”

“Oh.” I flushed hard, feeling stupid and immature for not even thinking about that. “Sorry, I didn’t even think.”

“It’s okay,” he reassured me, pulling me in close for a hug before kissing my hair. “I have an idea, though, of something we could do instead of going all the way.” He met my eyes to send me a look that made me feel warm...all over. “But it involves third base. You interested?”

My sex clenched hard, and I brightened immediately, exhaling my joy and relief. “Yes. I’m definitely interested.”

He slid his finger over my breast and then down, down toward my navel. “And you have to get all the way naked.”

I made a sound in the back of my throat, not sure if it was from nerves or excitement. But I bobbed my head, accepting those terms. “Not here, though.” Not this close to my family. “If you get caught here again, you’ll definitely go to jail.” I shook my head. “I don’t want to be worried about that the entire time.”

He nodded, understanding and respecting my wishes. “The dock, then?”

Perfect. “Yes, please.”

He grinned back, looking as excited as I felt. “Okay, then. Climb on.” When he turned his back to me and crouched down, I frowned. He huffed out a breath. “I’m not letting you traipse through the woods at night barefoot, and I don’t think I can wait for you to go all the way back inside to get some sensible shoes, so I’m carrying you.”

Shaking my head over his gallantry, I climbed onto his back, trying not to strangle him as I wrapped my arms around his shoulders.

“So...” He reached back and caught my thighs before hefting me higher. Then he started walking. “How was the cotillion?”

I waited until we were away from the gazebo and finally in the woods before answering. “Fine.”

“Mmm.” He made a noncommittal sound in his throat before asking, “Anything good to eat there?”

“Seafood,” I answered, glumly.

He knew I wasn’t a fan, so he made a sympathetic sound. “What about dancing? Was there a dance too?”

“Yeah.” I sighed, wondering why he was so curious about my dull, boring evening. “There’s always one at the cotillion.”

“Did you dance with anyone?”

I blinked before a grin spread across my face. “Are you jealous?”

He growled, but pressed. “Did you dance with anyone or not?”

Still beaming, I leaned around his shoulder to kiss his cheek. “No. Of course not. No one ever asks me to dance.”

“Good.”

“What?” I scowled, but he sat me down at the dock’s ramp because we’d reached the strip pit.

Then he turned to me and took my hand. After lifting my fingers to his mouth and kissing the knuckles, he asked, “Will you dance with me? Right now?”

My lips parted. But then I nodded eagerly. “Okay.”

He walked me onto the dock and turned to face me, sliding his arms around my waist. “We don’t have any music, so this might get awkward, but...” Stepping into a strange kind of waltz, he began to dance.

I followed his lead, gazing up into his eyes and reveling in every feature of his face the moonlight offered.

With a warm smile, he leaned in to brush his nose along my temple. “When you said cotillion, I pictured you wearing one of those southern, 1800 dresses with a big hoop skirt that belled out, but this is really modern.”

I sighed as his fingers moved over my spaghetti straps. “Yeah, my mother said that in this situation, it’s more important to keep up with the style of the times than to follow tradition.”