Vance stepped back, bringing Knox’s brooding face into view. “Hey, boss. I was just seeing if—”
“I know.” Knox’s focus stayed rooted on Darya. “But she couldn’t even if she wanted. She’s busy.”
She was? She tore her gaze away from Knox’s heavy stare and blinked her screen into focus. She didn’t think she’d missed any assignments, but then she’d been worthlessly combing through what looked like perfect code for the last hour trying to find the root cause behind some illusive defect.
Everything in her email was sorted and the ticketing system they used to track assignments showed nothing new.
“Go home.” Knox stalked into the room and positioned himself between her and Vance. “I’ll make sure JJ gets what she needs. Enjoy your weekend.”
Okay that one wasn’t nearly as subtle. The words were nice enough, but the way he’d faced off with Vance and his squared shoulders looked an awful lot like her coworker had fried Knox’s last nerve.
“Uhh.” Vance’s face blanked. “Okay.” His gaze shot to hers over Knox’s shoulder. “I guess I’ll see you Monday?”
“Sure,” she said.
Knox fired back with a, “Doubtful,” at the same time.
Oh, boy. That wasn’t good. The shock that zapped across Vance’s face before he ducked his chin and backed away confirmed as much. “Right. Okay, well...g’night.”
And then he was gone, leaving her alone in the silent room with an unimpeded view of Knox’s tense back.
For long seconds Knox didn’t move. Simply stood there, staring down the dark hallway as though tracking Vance’s moves even though he’d long disappeared from sight.
The steel door to the main entrance kachunked open then slammed closed.
Knox fisted his hands and lowered his head.
Bracing.
No. Not that. Please God, not that. Not yet.
No matter how much she knew breaking the physical relationship between them needed to happen she wasn’t ready for it. She sucked in a slow breath, her mind scrambling for some way to distract him. Or better yet, how to extricate herself from the moment altogether. She cleared her throat and started gathering her things. “I should probably go home, too.”
“No.”
She froze, her fingers locked around the notepad she’d hastily snatched from her desk with the intent of cramming it in her backpack. One word he’d spoken. One simple word, but it sounded as though it eked from the lips of a man long caged in a dungeon.
Slowly, he turned and lifted his head.
Pain and fear stared back at her, so stark and brutal in its intensity her heart stuttered under its weight. But there was something else there, too. Something that urged her to throw all caution aside and hold him close. “What do you mean, no?”
He prowled forward. Unlike the confident gait she’d grown accustomed to, each step was cautious. A dangerous animal comfortable in his own strength and skill, but not daring to underestimate his opponent. “I mean, I don’t want you to go home.”
“You have something you need me to handle here, then?”
He shook his head and stopped so close his leg brushed her knee. Sitting as she was, he towered over her. “No.”
She laid her tablet aside and folded her hands in her lap, forcing them to remain loose no matter how much she wanted to clench them tight. “I don’t understand.”
His gaze dropped to her hands in her lap and he swallowed so hard his Adam’s apple bobbed. “I’m not sure I do either, but I’m tired of fighting it.” He scanned her desk then locked his focus on her computer. Before she could gauge his intent, he punched the power button and held it down, forcing it to close.
She bolted upright and knocked his hand away as if the delayed movement might somehow save the work he’d just thrown away. “Knox, I didn’t save that.”
Lightning fast, his fingers coiled around her wrist. “Work doesn’t matter.” He inched closer. “There’s nothing I can’t help you fix anyway.” He used his hold to turn her, the movement gentle despite the power of his grip. His gaze was locked on the point of contact, a mesmerized look on his face. Only when her body was squared to his did he lift his head and meet her eyes. “I don’t want you to go to your home. I want you to come to mine.”
Home.
Part of her wanted to hiss and rail at the request. To lift her chin and tell him she was done with all his rules and carefully cultivated distance. But another, far more instinctive part, stilled and honed in on the word still reverberating through her thoughts. This meant something to him. Something huge given the caution that gripped his every action.
Maybe it was time for the truth. Even if she hadn’t taken the time to prepare herself. To mourn a connection incompletely formed. She covered his hand still coiled around her wrist with her own, needing the contact even if it crossed a line he didn’t want her beyond. “I’m not sure I can do this anymore. Not without going somewhere you don’t want me to go.”
His grip loosened enough to skim up her arm and over her shoulder until he cupped the side of her neck. His gray gaze burned into hers, pure terror and vulnerability reflected back at her. “What if I said I want you to go there?”
The words were so soft, so carefully spoken and ragged she wasn’t even sure she’d heard them right at first. She braced her trembling hands against his chest. Beneath her palm, his heart raced. She smoothed her hands against him, the need to soothe whatever caused the wildness as inherent as drawing her next breath. “Why would you say that? I thought you said—”
“I know what I said.” He urged her closer, both hands framing her face. His lips hovered so close her own parted, and his heat blanketed her from breasts to thighs. “I don’t know what I’m doing. I just know what worked before isn’t working now, and I want you with me.”
The emphasis he chose yanked her resolve out from underneath her and fanned the barely repressed desires she’d tried to ignore. “What are you saying?”
His mouth tightened and the rhythm of his inhalations accelerated. “I want strings. Ropes. Chains. Whatever it takes to bind you to me. And I want you in my bed. Mine. Not yours.”
A delicious swoop and spin whispered through her belly, and her skin tingled on a flash of adrenaline. He wanted her. Not at a distance. Not on a purely physical basis, but bound to him. Just replaying his words in her head made her cheeks burn and her heart race.
It was still a risk. By his own admission, he didn’t know what he was doing and had limited if any experience with relationships. To be the first he attempted such a feat with in God only knew how many years was dangerous. A step that could leave her bruised and battered when everything was said and done.
Live enough for both of us.
This was living. Nestled close to Knox, his strength and emotion prickling against her skin, was the biggest thrill she’d ever experienced. And if she came out on the other side broken, then so be it. She’d bandage herself up, face life’s next challenge the same way she had all the others and make all the sacrifices she’d been honored with worth it.
She skimmed her fingers along his jawline, the light stubble tickling the pads and causing a flutter up her arms. She rolled up on her toes, softly meshed her lips against his and whispered, “Then take me home.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Knox pressed his fingertips tighter against Darya’s scalp, needing some kind of physical confirmation she was really here. That her lips were really against his and his mind hadn’t somehow conjured her response.
Her tongue slicked along his lower lip, a tentative touch over and gone in a second, but every bit as powerful as her words still ringing in his head.
Then take me home.
He answered back, taking her mouth the way he’d always craved. Leisurely feasting without thought to anything mo
re than her taste and sharing all the emotion he’d kept buried.
This was what he’d missed. What he’d avoided with nearly every woman for over ten years and only allowed himself with Darya in the most vulnerable moments. A simple unguarded kiss. So much more innocent than the other things they’d done together, but the rawest intimacy.
He wrapped her up, banding one arm around her waist and palming the back of her head.
Her silky hair slicked across his knuckles and down his forearms and her ragged breaths puffed against his lips between each pass of his own. He’d meant what he’d told her. He didn’t have a clue what he was doing. Had never faced anything in his life as terrifying as laying himself out like he had tonight.
But here—with her in his arms and the rest of the world completely out of focus—the risk was worth it.
He nipped her lower lip, lingering long enough to chase the hungry gasp the action earned him with one last graze of his mouth, then rested his forehead against hers. His arms shook. Hell, his whole body shook, so flooded on adrenaline and endorphins he’d be lucky if he slept for a month. “I was an ass.”
It was easier to admit than he’d expected. A relief, actually, leaving the weight he’d lugged on his shoulders a few bricks lighter and sweeping fresh air into the musty places inside him he’d forgotten existed.
She pulled away enough to search his face. “I thought you were quite sweet.”
Of course, she would. In the three weeks since she’d first walked into his office, she’d built solid relationships with everyone she worked with and had done it by focusing on the good in every one of them. He, on the other hand, immediately isolated every person’s character defect and catalogued how it might come back to bite him, or where it might run afoul of his or his brothers’ business plans. With Darya, he’d known inside of two seconds, just how low she could bring him. All he’d garnered by holding her at bay was lost time and the creation of trust hurdles he’d now have to dismantle. “Not sure my manning up in the eleventh hour makes up for the rest of my jackass antics.” He smoothed her hair back and cupped her face, soaking in the closeness. “I’ll make it up to you.”
Her lips quirked and a playful gleam danced behind her beautiful eyes. “Does this mean I only have to do the work of one employee instead of two?”
There she was. The lighthearted and quick-to-frolic woman he’d watched with everyone else through the cameras. Except this time, he was the recipient. The one to earn her smile and revel in his sweet angel’s voice.
Finally.
He was tempted to spill the beans and tell her yes, but he smirked instead and said, “No. If anything, you’ll have to up your game and pull the weight of three people.”
Her eyes popped wide and her mouth opened and closed at least twice before he chuckled and pulled her against him.
“Relax.” He kissed the top of her head and filled his lungs with her perfect scent. “I know a guy that can help you with whatever your asshole boss dishes out.”
She hugged her arms tighter around his waist and giggled, her laughter the brightest and most amazing sound he’d heard in ages. “Would that guy happen to be a little over six feet tall and have dirty blond hair?”
“He’s dirty, all right. Especially when you factor into his thoughts, which is about every other second.” On cue, his mind coughed up the fact that the woman he’d fantasized and fixated on for the better part of three weeks wasn’t just plastered against him, but had willingly accepted taking a chance on him despite his fucked up behavior. His easy laughter died off and the significance of what he’d asked her filtered back to the top of his consciousness.
He cupped the back of her neck and pulled away enough to meet her gaze. “Come home with me.” She couldn’t realize what a huge deal this was for him. Not yet. But it was a start. A big one.
She nodded and uncurled her arms from around his waist, her movement hesitant as though she’d rather not let go. “Just let me get my things.”
It was weird how easy things shifted. How they moved in sync without saying a word. Him slipping her laptop bag from her hand. Her moving in close to his side so his hand could settle at the small of her back. Even as he moved through the hallways, checking each room and shutting down the lights, she flowed beside him as though they’d done the routine together countless nights.
All this time he’d missed this. Damn near lost his chance at it if he’d read the pain and hesitancy in her eyes right before he’d nutted up and reached for the brass ring.
The drive to his place was mostly quiet, sprinkled only with likes and dislikes on music once he encouraged her to take control of the radio. More than the genres represented on his preset selections—which she seemed to heartily agree with—she seemed fascinated by the number of stations available via the satellite service.
He’d just finished exiting I-35 when she finally made it through the last of the channels he’d programmed. “You seriously drive a recent model Challenger and you’re not using satellite over local channels?” he said.
She flipped to the first set of six for a fresh lap through the stations and smiled as the chorus for Death Cab for Cutie’s “Black Sun” filled the interior. “Not all of us are wildly successful app developers with a mysterious past in hacking. I have to watch my pennies and save.”
Okay, he’d give her that one. Though, with his brothers and their diversified investments, his income wasn’t limited to just what he made on Listalyzer or his other programs. “It’ll come,” he said, leaving her be with the rest of her exploration. It wasn’t an empty promise either. As hard as she’d worked the last three weeks, she definitely had the drive to be successful. Plus, she’d just cemented a hard-core backer whether she realized it or not.
He pulled into the underground garage for his and Beckett’s complex. Ten to fifteen years ago, the stretch of dilapidated warehouse buildings southwest of downtown Dallas was an iffy place to buy anything, but now it was on an upward trend. The fact that he’d been smart enough to talk Beckett into buying one of the old warehouses meant they’d more than tripled their investment value in the five years since they’d renovated the space.
Darya straightened in her seat and scanned the parking garage. “This is where you live?”
He nodded and steered them toward the row of ten reserved spots they’d kept for themselves. “Beck and I own the building. The top floor is ours, but we renovated the other four floors into two-bedroom lofts.” Thankfully, renting it out to a host of yuppies and successful artists added to their already growing income stream.
Come to think of it, they had a unit open on the floor right below theirs. He could move her there, chalk it up as a job perk and give her a hell of a lot more security in the process. Or he could just keep her in his bed. She’d be even safer there.
The thought rattled him almost as badly as the sight of not just Beckett’s Vette, but Danny’s deep purple ’69 Chevelle beside it.
Fuck.
He pulled into his spot and yanked the emergency brake. So much for stepping into new and scary without eyewitnesses.
Always perceptive, Darya’s soft voice cut into his thoughts. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah.” Or it would be. He’d already wasted too damned much time dodging what his instincts had told him was right from the get-go. All he had to do from here out was put one foot in front of the other and see where it led him. Or rather them.
Besides, it wouldn’t be the first time Beckett razzed him about something, and it wouldn’t be the last. He killed the engine and popped his door. “Hold up and I’ll get your door.”
If she noticed his tension on the way up the elevator she didn’t show it, though the security was tight enough to keep her more than amused. Every floor was secured with keycards, but his and Beckett’s required the same scanners they used at the office. Keeping
one hand braced at the small of her back, he guided her through the small private landing to the main door.
He opened the front door and the lock’s stout clack ricocheted off the loft’s exposed brick walls. For the first time since he and Beckett had started renovations, he tried to view their bachelor space the way a woman like Darya might see it. The original concrete floors would’ve been fine for just him and Beck, but Sylvie and Ninette had taken one look at the place and ordered all kinds of area rugs to cover the wide-open space. Steel gray, muted blues and dark chocolate, they all coordinated, but each had different textures and patterns. The final effect looked pretty damned cool.
The industrial metal door slammed shut behind them, drawing Beckett and Danny’s attention from the open kitchen at the far side of the room. A huge concrete covered island was the only thing that demarcated the culinary wonder from the rest of the space and doubled as a decent poker table when the rest of the guys came over. Why they never used the monster dining room table situated off to one side he couldn’t figure. When they’d bought the dark wood piece it’d reminded him of something out of Game of Thrones, but despite its cool factor hardly anyone sat behind it.
With both his and Darya’s bags looped over one shoulder, he gripped her arm and ambled forward with as much casualness as he could muster. Yeah, the hold on her was more Neanderthal than thoughtful man, but it was either keep himself grounded with her presence, or get them both the fuck out of there before the questions started. “Thought you were going with the guys to Crossroads,” he said to Beckett and Danny.
At a distance, he’d not been able to clearly make out Beckett’s smug expression, or Danny’s shock for that matter. The closer he got, the more things came into focus. Whatever they’d been discussing before he and Darya had walked in, it was long forgotten now.
“Had to wait for Danny to finish a job,” Beckett said. “Thought we’d have a beer and then head over together.” His gaze shifted to Darya and he cocked one eyebrow. “You comin’ with us?”
“We’re staying in,” Knox said before Darya could answer. She might be sharp, but Beckett was a ruthless son of a bitch with ferreting out details when he wanted them, and judging by the curiosity on his face, he very much wanted them.
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