Page 134 of Last First Date

When we got to my place, I remembered the status of my bedroom. Getting ready for the party had been a bit of a whirlwind. “I’m warning you, my bedroom is a mess,” I said as I unlocked the front door. “It’s not normally like that, but I was having some difficulty choosing accessories and well, it’s a disaster.”

His hands went to my waist. “I don’t give a shit what your bedroom looks like. I’m not here to critique your housekeeping skills.”

I laughed and turned to face him. “Should I offer you a drink?”

“You can offer it, but there’s only one thing I want right now.”

“And I suppose that one thing isn’t a nice glass of merlot?” I teased, pressing my body against his. The way he looked at me made my heart pound in my chest. It was a look of pure love and something more.

He chuckled, the sound low and husky in his throat. “Your sense of humor is one of the many things I love about you, Waverly.” His voice was barely above a whisper.

“Well then,” I murmured, feeling a delightful shiver course through me at his words. “We definitely have much more enjoyable things to do than drinking wine.”

His eyes darkened as he walked me backward. “Show me the bedroom. Or I’ll take you on the couch, floor, or on that kitchen table.”

He grabbed my face and kissed me like he was starving. I closed my eyes, melting into him, my hands reaching up to knot in the soft waves of his hair. He grappled with removing his jacket, stumbling into the dimly lit living room. The tension between us was thick, electrifying, and intoxicating. The storm of emotions was overwhelming, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Bedroom,” I gasped between our passionate kisses, pointing toward the hallway. Knox picked me up effortlessly and carried me across the living area to my bedroom door. My laughter rang out as he nearly bumped me against the doorframe.

My bedroom was exactly how I’d left it. It looked like a battlefield of strewn clothes and accessories scattered wildly across the carpet, my vanity a mess of makeup and perfume bottles. Knox set me down, and for a moment we both just stood there taking it all in.

“I wasn’t kidding about the mess,” I said, feeling my cheeks flush red with embarrassment.

He waved his hand dismissively at the room, his other arm pulling me closer to him. “Trust me, I don’t see a mess. All I see is you,” he said, his gaze never leaving mine.

Nodding, I stepped out of his embrace and walked over to the mess that was my bed. Shoving aside the discarded clothes and shoes, I made a space for us to sit.

Knox watched me intently. His gaze never once strayed from me. It was like he was drinking me in, the way one might savor a fine wine. His arms wrapped around me from behind, pulling me against him. His lips found the sensitive spot below my ear, making me shudder. “Stop worrying about all this,” he murmured, gesturing vaguely at our surroundings.

I wanted to protest, tell him that it wasn’t usually like this, that I didn’t want his first impression of my private abode to be cluttered and haphazard. But then again, there was something truthful about it. If I was a mess, so was my room, and currently, that held true in all senses.

His lips gently planted kisses down the side of my neck, nuzzling against my hair. The warmth radiating from him made a slow heat spread through me, melting away any lingering embarrassment or inhibitions. We were here together finally. His confessions of love had been unexpected, but they’d kindled a fire within me that was now threatening to consume us both.

His hands slid down my sides. “Where’d the dress come from?” he whispered against my ear. “When I saw you tonight, my dick jumped to life. You look hot. This thing is on fire.”

“Secondhand,” I said, laughing softly. “Valentine’s Day throwaway. Someone wore it once and I got it for a steal. I wanted to show up to Benjamin’s party looking like a million bucks.”

“You succeeded,” he murmured. “I couldn’t keep my eyes off you. No one could, but you know what?”

“Hmm?” I asked with my eyes closed and my head dropped back.

“I think you look a lot better out of the dress.” He moved his hands up to the zipper at the back of my dress and pulled it down slowly, teasingly. His touch elicited a shiver that ran through my body. I felt his smirk against my skin.

He turned me around to face him, his fingers brushing against the bare skin of my back as he slid the straps off my shoulders, letting the dress pool at my feet. He looked at me with eyes dark with desire. “I was right,” he said slowly, with a voice so rough it made my knees weak. “You look a lot better out of the dress.”

His words were like a matchstick setting fire to dry wood. They spread a tingling warmth through me, igniting a spark that flared into an all-consuming flame. He cupped my face gently in his hands, his thumbs tracing the curve of my cheeks before he lowered his lips to mine. The kiss was deep and full of unspent passion that sent shockwaves through my body.

His hands started exploring, moving down the curve of my waist and hips, pulling me tightly against him. I gasped in surprise, feeling the hardness of his body against mine, branding me with a heat that left no room for doubt about his desire.

“Knox,” I whispered against his lips as he trailed hot kisses down my neck and along my collarbone. His hands were like fire against my skin, his touch igniting a heat deep within.

“I love you,” he murmured into my skin, his breath warm against the goosebumps that had risen on my body. “I’ve loved you ever since the day we met.”

His words echoed in my heart, filling me with a joy that threatened to spill out of me in tears. I had spent so many nights wondering if he felt the same way I did. Now that the words hung in the air between us, dancing in the glow of the dimly lit room, I realized that our feelings for each other were not only mutual, but also incredibly powerful.

“Me too,” I said on a sigh.

He kissed me again, this time with a ferocity that stole my breath away. His hands moved down to cup my bare waist, his rough palms making me shudder with anticipation.