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I bolt upright and dart my gaze around the room, when I spot Knox standing against the far wall with his arms crossed over his chest everything comes back to me. I passed out while he was shoving his dick down my throat! But it’s the memory of him calling me a good girl that sparked the black out–no, it wasn’t that. It was the sound of his voice in my head, I think it was definitely a memory.
“Lakeland was drunk and lost control, Knox.” I reel back at his words, his gaze is hard and unyielding as he stares down his nose at me. “That’s what your sister told me, then I found out years later you thought it was me or my guys who ran you off the road.” I remain silent, unsure what to say, plus the look on his face scares me. He looks like a caged animal ready to strike at a moment's notice. “Here’s the thing, Lakeland. Six years ago–the night of your accident,” he snarls the word like it burnt his tongue. “I was just a poor teenage dirtbag, living at home with his mother, sister and two best friends. I didn’t have two fucking pennies to rub together, no men, no car of my own. Xander, Taylan and I all shared a car because none of us could afford our own.”
Cocking my head to the side, I study him trying to decipher what he is saying. “I don’t understand,” I finally say after a long pause. He kicks off the wall and places his hands on the end of the bed, leaning in close. I refuse to shift away and give him the satisfaction that he intimidates me.
“Six years ago I hadn’t even taken over the Da Luca family, the Re Della Strada wasn’t formed until months later.” I see the truth in his eyes and even hear it in his words. “I was nowhere near that bridge, nor was Taylan or Xander. I was at home waiting for you.” My jaw unhinges. I try to recall a single memory of him but the harder I try to remember the more the pain starts to throb in the base of my skull.
“You were telling the truth when you said I was your girlfriend?” He sucks in a shuddering breath before nodding. “If you thought I was drunk and I thought you ran me off the road because of who my father is then, what is the truth? What happened to me six years ago, Knox?” I hear the plea in my own voice but I don’t care, I need to know what happened the night of the accident. “Why would my father lie to me?” I say aloud, not expecting him to answer me.
“To use you against me.”
“Why would he think you gave a shit about me?” A shadow falls over his features as he pushes off the bed and steps back.
“At that point in time, you had me eating out of the palm of your hands. Percy knew that. He wanted me gone so he could use you to form an alliance with… with someone that could have helped make him a very wealthy man. I believe something happened that night between you and your father and you angered him enough for him to come after you.” A knock sounds at the door, halting our conversation. “Yeah?” The door opens to reveal Xander.
“We need to move, we’ve been sitting here for nearly two hours,” he says. I scurry off the bed to peer out the tiny window to see we aren’t in the air but on the ground. I spin toward Knox.
“We’ve been on the ground for two hours?” He nods while still eyeing me with distrust. “Why are we still on the plane?”
“Casanova didn’t want to wake you,” Xander sneers before stalking out of the room.
“Come here.” I go to him without complaint, I don’t fight him when he lifts my handcuffs. I don’t even argue when he undoes one cuff only to secure it around his own wrist. I follow closely behind him as he leads the way. I appreciate the fact he slows his own strides so I can keep up. We slip into the back seat of a waiting car with surprising ease. Taylan rides shotgun beside Xander and neither says a word as Xander plants his foot down and follows after the other cars in front of us. I look out the back window to see more cars behind us. I feel like the president with this much security. Given who Knox is and his line of work, I understand the need for extra protection. After a few minutes, he growls and reaches for me, pulling me into the center seat. I shoot him a questioning look, so he lifts the wrist that is cuffed to mine.
“Oh.” Is my only response. I’ve never been outside of Canada so I drink in the sight of this stunning country. I don’t even think as I lean over Knox and press my face against the glass to see large skyscrapers in the distance, it looks like a huge city. I snap out of it when I feel him shift beneath me. I scurry to move but he surprises me when he grabs my waist and deposits me on his lap. I peer at him over my shoulder only for him to lift our cuffed hands again. I raise a brow not calling him on his bullshit.
Time passes by quickly before we arrive at our destination—it’s a large, swanky-looking hotel. “Tay, toss me your jacket,” Knox says. Taylan tosses it over his shoulder effectively smacking me in the face with it. I scowl at the back of his head as Knox pushes the door open and helps me out before following after me. He drapes the jacket over the handcuffs. I snort out a laugh that earns me a glare from the man himself but my laughter dies the moment he interlocks our fingers. I remain silent at his side as he checks us in, then leads me to an elevator, we’re only on the second story which is good. If I plan to escape then the closer to the ground I am the better for me.
Taylan and Xander both take the rooms on either side of the room I assume I’m sharing with Knox. The moment we step inside the room, I turn to face him ready to argue my point about needing to have our own rooms but he covers my mouth with his other hand.
“I’m not in the mood for your shit. I’m tired and I have a meeting first thing in the morning. I want to shower and then sleep. Don't make this hard because I’m still suffering from blue balls. Fight me and I promise you neither of us will be sleeping until I’m fucking that pretty little mouth of yours and coming down your throat.” I gulp audibly and nod my head. He drops his hand and leads me toward the bathroom. “Jackson will have clothes waiting for us when we finish. I’m going to uncuff us, then you're going to get your ass in the shower.”
“Okay.” He kicks the door closed and makes quick work of uncuffing us. I decide to play along and make him think I’m being compliant. I strip off and step into the shower, making sure to shift over enough that he fits. The moment he steps in, he eyes me warily but I just smile and go about washing myself, feeling his gaze on me the entire time. Once I’m finished, I step out and snag one of the towels, drying myself, then turn to him to find his gaze laser focused on me. “Can I go change or do I have to wait for you?”
His eyes narrow suspiciously. “You know I have men blocking every exit, right?”
I nod. “I guessed as much, can I change now?”
“Whatever you’re planning, don’t,” he warns.
“I’m not planning anything, I just want to change and sleep. You said if I listen and obey you won’t be mean to me.”
He frowns. “I never said that shit but whatever, go change,” he says as he turns the shower off and steps out. I can’t help it, my eyes drop to his cock and I bite my lips to keep the groan from slipping free. His body is a work of fucking art. “Keep looking at it like that and you’ll get reacquainted with how it feels inside you real fast.” I squeal and quickly dash out of there with his husky laughter following me. I find clothes laid out perfectly on the bed and purse my lips at the sight of the silky night dress. If he thinks I’m wearing that thing he has another thing coming. I snatch the blue shirt from his pile and drop my towel, pulling the shirt over my hair. I may not like the night dress but I am grateful to see a hairbrush, perfume, some hair pins and deodorant. I pin my hair up and spray myself quickly only to still at the sound of him sniffing the air behind me. I turn to face him.
He quirks a brow at the sight of me in his shirt. I place my hands on my hips. “I am not wearing that thing whatever his name brought in here. I also noticed you got underwear but I didn’t!” The bastard just purses his lips and shrugs. He brushes past me, dropping his towel to the floor, my eyes immediately drink in the sight of… Jesus Christ, even his ass is tattooed! I slowly inch forward trying to get a better look at the ink. Just as I get close enough, he turns around and I’m greeted with the sight of his dick. “Fuck,” I snap as I reel back, my cheeks flame as I turn away from him huffing.
“Get in the bed, Lakeland. I’m tired.” I peer over my shoulder to see him standing there in a pair of sweats that hang low on his waist, emphasizing that glorious V.
“Can you at least put a shirt on?”
“You’re wearing my fucking shirt. Now shut the hell up and get your ass in the bed before I drag you over here.”
“Asshole.” I snicker as I stomp over to the far side of the bed, then rip the covers back still muttering under my breath about how much of a dick he is only for the words to die in my throat at the sight of a gold letter opener sitting right there on the bedside table. I remain calm to not alert him to the weapon sitting within reach and quickly climb under the covers leaving an ocean of room between us. Seeing him naked and getting that close to his dick has set my blood pumping and my libido into overdrive. I need to stay as far away from him as I can. The moment he slips under the covers, he eliminates the space between us. I try to push him away but the distinct sound of a cuff clicking shut has me halting. I lift the cover and gawk at the sight of my wrist once again cuffed to him. “Are you freaking serious?” I snarl.
Ignoring me he reaches over to his side and flicks the lights off, then keeps shifting until he is comfortable, which in turn forces me to my side so I am plastered against his back thanks to the fucking handcuffs! Absolutely livid and outraged by the fact he has once again cuffed me to him I bite him.
“Fuck,” he roars, then moves so freakishly fast it’s like a blur. Suddenly he’s nestled between my legs, pinning me to the mattress with a hand around my throat. “I told you not to fuck with me, I warned you what would happen.” Panic flares to life inside me, I need to get the upper hand here or he is going to shove his cock down my throat and I refuse to allow him that privilege. In a bold move I reach down and cup his cock. His eyes widen as a hiss escapes him. Before he can protest, I lift my cuffed hand to grip the back of his neck and pull him down so I can capture his lips in a kiss. I try to remind myself that I am doing this to gain the upper hand, throw him off his game so he will be less vigilant, giving me a chance to escape, except the second his tongue invades my mouth and the taste of him fills me, all thought of escape flees.
Knox Bronson is a dangerous addiction I can’t afford.
