Make Me Yours

by Charity Ferrell

  “Has Knox visited him in prison?”

  We rush into the restaurant that had been chosen because it thrives on privacy. Paps and reporters aren’t allowed in, and everyone on staff has to sign a confidentially agreement upon hiring.

  I grab Libby around the waist and turn her around as soon as the door is closed.

  She blows out a breath and brushes a few flyaway strands from her face. “I can’t believe they’re making such a big deal about us going to dinner with a group of people. They act like we’re walking into an orgy.”

  George laughs at her comment. “Now that would be a kickass story.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Libby

  Dinner is in a private room in the back of the restaurant. There are at least thirty people in here, everyone from the producer to Knox’s management team, all celebrating the release.

  Knox made a toast before the appetizers were served, thanking everyone for doing such a great job, and Thomas made the night even better by telling us the video has already hit twenty million YouTube views in one day.

  I think I’m more shocked than anyone. People have watched Knox practically dry hump me twenty million times.

  Which reminds me, I forgot to tell my dad. Oh fuck.

  No one wants to hear about that from a prison inmate.

  Everyone is not only congratulating Knox on the success – they’re also saying it to me. A few nosy ones have subtly tried to ask if we’re secretly boning or have some secret relationship going on, which is annoying.

  I have Thomas on one side of me, Knox on the other, and am on my third glass of delicious champagne. I can feel the alcohol starting to work through me, making me feel more comfortable with everyone.

  If all else fails, get wasted, and no one will intimidate you.

  The drunk ones are always the most comfortable person in the room.

  Thomas looks my way when I tap on his shoulder. “Did you tell my dad about the video?” I whisper.

  “I did,” he replies. “I asked if you told him about the video you shot last time you visited, he said no, so I broke the news to him, you little chicken shit.”

  I scoff. “I was waiting for the right time.”

  “He’s in prison. There’s no right time.” He laughs. “And you’re happy I did it for you. Say thank you, and let’s move onto the dessert they’re about to serve.” He runs his hands together in excitement.

  “Fine, thank you.” I am grateful he did the hard part for me.

  My mouth starts to water, and I understand why Thomas was so excited for dessert when a chocolate cake drizzled with raspberry sauce and fresh strawberries is set down in front of me. I lick my lips, take the first bite, and swallow it down with a low, appreciative moan.

  Knox dips his head down to whisper in my ear. “For the love of God Libby, please don’t moan like that or you’re going to kill me.”

  “Why? It’s freaking delicious.” I look over at him, noticing the brooding look on his face. What the? I take another bite and moan again, louder this time, before swallowing it down.

  A rush of heat bellows through me when he scoots his chair in closer. His warm, moist lips linger at my ear. “The more you moan like that, the more excited my cock gets.” A rugged laugh escapes him. “So go ahead, keep moaning, but FYI, you’re going to be the woman who has to walk out with the guy sporting a big ass boner.”

  My fork bangs against the plate when it falls from my fingers. “Sexual harassment,” I hiss.

  “You’re the one over here having an orgasm over a damn cake.”

  “Me enjoying cake shouldn’t turn you on. You might want to see a doctor about that.”

  “You’re right. You enjoying the cake doesn’t turn me on. Your moaning and that sexy ass look on your face is what’s turning me on. It’s hot as hell.”

  My heart batters against my chest. “Then I’ll stop.” I pick up my fork and shove a giant bite into my mouth, sans moan. “Is that better?”

  He shakes his head. “I didn’t say I don’t enjoy the moaning. My only wish is that it was my cock you were moaning around instead of that cake.” I choke on my bite. Knox chuckles as he starts to pat my back. Asshole. “That’s not the only way I can cause you to choke.”

  Is he kidding me?

  I rest my hand against my chest, trying to settle myself down, and he grunts when I ram my heel into his shin.

  “You okay over there?” Thomas asks, looking over at me in concern.

  I nod, my body moving in sync with my head, as I try to regain my composure. Knox looks over at Thomas and leans back in his chair, making himself look innocent.

  I bite into the edge of my lip in curiosity. I want to climb under this table and see if he’s actually sporting a boner, but I have a feeling people will think I’m a damn weirdo.

  Which I am, considering I want to crawl around on the floor and go boner hunting in the first place.

  “I think I’m going to head home,” I say, when I gain control of my breathing. “It’s been a long day.”

  Knox tosses his napkin on his plate. “Me too. I’ll text Willis and let him know we’re ready.” He snags his phone from his pocket and rubs his thumb over the screen, unlocking it.

  Thomas gives him a satisfied look. “I’m glad to see you’re deciding to stay out of trouble,” he says to Knox before looking my way. “I knew you’d be good for him.”

  “Oh, she’s most definitely good for me,” Knox chimes in, texting on his phone.

  Thomas must not pick up on Knox’s sexual innuendos because he slides his chair out and gets up. “I need to talk to a few people about business. Congratulations on the video again.”

  “You don’t need to worry about taking me home,” I rush out as soon as Thomas is out of earshot. “I heard some people talking about an after party. I’m sure you don’t want to miss that.”

  “I don’t give a fuck about an after party,” Knox says, flatly.

  I open my purse and start to hunt for my phone. “You should. I’ll book an Uber or have Mia pick me up.”

  “Why? I’m going home. You’re going home. Let’s conserve gas, save the environment, all that good shit.”

  “Fine,” I groan. “But no more moan talk … or sex talk … or whispering in my ear.”

  “Why do you like to take all the fun out of everything?” He leans in closer and whispers in my ear again. “Does that turn you on?”

  I swat him away. “No!”

  He chuckles. “Liar. If my tongue at your ear turns you on, you have no idea the other shit I can do with it, sunshine.”

  I gulp.

  I’m in big trouble.

  “You want to stop and get a coffee or something?” Knox asks after we climb into the backseat of the SUV. He scoots in close, giving me no personal space, and relaxes his shoulder against the leather seat so he can look straight at me.

  The paparazzi are still outside. They snapped shots as we made our way to the vehicle, but George did a great job of blocking them from me. I can still see the flashes coming our way, most likely trying to get a shot of us in here.

  “I don’t think coffee at midnight is a good idea,” I answer.

  His face falls. “Good point.” The ride goes quiet, with the exception of the radio softly playing in the front. “What about a movie? We can watch something at my house. I have access to every movie out there, even the ones that haven’t made it to theaters yet.”

  I fake a long yawn. “I’m pretty tired. It’s been a long day.” I’m three glasses of champagne in, his words from dinner are still swirling through my head, and I can’t stop staring at him in that leather jacket. If I go back to his house, I’m not sure whose bed I’ll end up in tonight.

  Therefore, my plan is to evade any situation where clothes can come off and sex can happen.

  I suck in a deep breath when he rests his hand against the exposed skin of my thigh, right below the hem of my dress. He slowly starts to drum his fingers to the beat of the music.<
br />
  “Are you sure?” he whispers. I scrape my teeth over my lips and nod. “You know us fucking won’t make you any less professional.”

  “I beg to differ. Conflict of interest, buddy.” Not only is it unprofessional, but sex also complicates things. The whole strings attached idea never ends well.

  “The only conflict I see right now is that my dick is hard as a rock, and I’m positive your panties are drenched.” I shiver when he starts to caress my bare skin. “I want to kiss you, Libby. I want to do more than kiss you so damn bad. You have no idea. Ever since we shot that video, I can’t stop thinking about you.”

  “You’re drunk.” He wouldn’t be saying this if alcohol weren’t flowing through his system.

  “I’m not even close to drunk. I had one glass of champagne and believe me, sunshine, I feel the same way when I’m completely sober. And so do you. I see the way you look at me. The feeling is mutual.”

  I let out a loud breath. “Obviously I’m attracted to you, but that doesn’t mean I want to screw you. We can’t cross that line, and we both know it.”

  “Then what do you want to do with me?” He pauses. “Or better yet, what do you want me to do with you?” He inches his hand up, moving underneath my dress. “This?”

  I can feel myself sweating. Did someone turn the heat up in here? I briefly look up to see if Willis or George is paying any attention to us. Both of them are looking forward, minding their own business, or at least pretending to.

  I part my legs further without even thinking. My body wants it, wants him. The common sense in me is fighting it but obviously losing.

  He inches forward. “Is that an invitation? Do you want me to play with you, Libby?” he questions, sounding more serious than I’ve ever heard him. I straighten my back up, the internal fight I’m having with myself still in action. “I’m not doing anything until you tell me you want it. Say no, and I’ll move my hand. Say yes, and I’ll play with your pussy until you get off on my fingers.”

  “Yes.” The small word putters from my lips.

  He slides my panties to the side swiftly and pushes a finger inside of me. His mouth goes to my ear. “So fucking wet for me. I knew it.”

  My lips part and everything around me grows hazy when he adds another finger, dipping them in and out of me.

  “We … we shouldn’t be doing this,” I whisper.

  My actions don’t match my words because I’m slowly pumping my hips up to meet his touch. Fuck, he’s strumming his fingers inside of me, giving me all his attention, just like he does his guitar.

  Apparently, I don’t want to fuck him, but I have no problem letting him finger fuck me in the backseat of an SUV with two strangers in the front.

  Sorry dad. This man has caused me to throw all of my morals out the door.

  “I beg to differ,” he says, with a grin.

  I push away the voices in my head telling me how bad of an idea this is. I already know that, and right now, I don’t give a shit. All that’s on my mind is how good he’s making me feel.

  He presses his free hand over my mouth as I let out my release.

  Knox slides his fingers out of me and places them in his mouth, slowly sucking on them. “You sure you want to go in there?” he asks when Willis pulls up to the condo.

  “I’m sure.”

  What do I say now? Thanks for getting me off, see you later?

  He grabs my bag of clothes. “I’ll walk you to the door.”

  I snatch it from him. “I … I got it. I’ll see you later.” I grab the door handle and jump out as soon as it opens. No one even has a chance to stop me.

  I take deep breaths as soon as I make it into the condo.

  “Damn girl, that dress looks amazing on you,” Mia says when she sees me. She’s snuggled on the couch with Dixon watching some chick-flick. “How was it?”

  “It … it was good,” I stutter out.

  Her forehead creases as she looks at me in confusion. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine,” I rush out. “Just exhausted. I’m going to bed. You guys have fun.”

  I don’t wait for her response. I dash upstairs to the bathroom, take off my makeup, and then head to my bedroom, still not thinking straight from the mind blowing orgasm Knox just gave me. I grab my phone to put it on the charger when I see I have a text message.

  Knox: You let me know when you change your mind, you hear me? When you’re finally ready to come around, to see me as more than some stupid celebrity man slut, come to me. I promise you won’t regret it. Goodnight Libby. We have some fun months ahead of us.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Knox

  Thomas is relaxed in the chair behind his big ass desk when I walk into his office. He called this morning and asked for me to meet him here to talk some last minute tour business.

  I look around the room. Billboard charts showing off his client’s success – a few of them with my name – cover the beige walls. A picture of us when I won my first Grammy is set up on the bookcase behind him.

  “What’s up?” I ask.

  He signals for me to take a seat like I’m in the principal’s office. “I want to talk to you about Libby and the tour.”

  “What about it?” I tense up in the chair. “Is she bailing?”

  I pushed her too far after dinner. Trust me, I never planned to have my fingers in her pussy, it just happened, and I honestly was surprised as fuck she let it.

  He leans back in his chair, crossing his arms. “No, she’s still in, but be easy on her and keep your hands to yourself. I know how you are on the road. You get needy and moody.” He chuckles, shaking his head. “Although I don’t think she’ll fall for your charm, anyway. I gave Libby this job because she’s a strong woman who’s done a terrific job handling crazy tours like yours, but that doesn’t mean every experience has been a good one for her. She’s nervous, I can tell. I’m going to trust you with her. Don’t make me regret it.”

  “What do you mean she knows how to handle tours like mine?”

  “She used to go on tour with her father. I was his band’s manager for over a decade. She had to deal with crazy fans and dirty-mouthed, out of control rockers for years.”

  Ah, yeah. I forgot Libby’s dad was some rock legend because she doesn’t act like most people I know with popular parents. She doesn’t throw his name around to get free shit.

  “Second question, what do you mean they haven’t all been a good experience?”

  “That’s not my story to tell, and Libby would probably quit if I did. We both know we don’t want that to happen. So don’t ask and be good.”

  “If you’re so worried about me corrupting her, why didn’t you give her to someone else?”

  “She knew how to deal with her dad in his rough times. I think maybe she can work her magic on you.” I grin. “Not that kind of magic, dumbass.”

  “I’ll keep an eye on her. I promise.”

  “And?”

  “And I won’t try to sleep with her.”

  “Try again.”

  “Fine, I won’t sleep with her.”

  “Good boy. Now go out there and show them what a kickass performer you are. If you need anything, give me a call, and you know I’ll be on the first jet there.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Libby

  Tomorrow is the day.

  The day we leave for the tour.

  And I’m one nervous as hell woman.

  I’m almost done packing when my phone beeps. I grab it from my nightstand and read the text.

  Knox: Your bags packed and ready to go?

  Me: About to zip up my suitcase.

  Knox: Did you do what I said?

  Me: No, it’s not necessary for you to buy me shit to take on tour.

  Knox: I was only trying to help you out. If you don’t need anything, it’s cool.

  Why do I feel like a bitch for not accepting his offer of using his credit card to buy my necessities for the tour? I did have to take a chunk of the mo
ney I’ve been saving up to purchase everything I need, but the pay raise Knox promised will pay that back and more.

  My phone vibrates in my hand again before I have the chance to reply to him.

  Knox: When are you going to be here to help me pack?

  Help him pack? That’s not in my job description.

  Me: Don’t you have people who do that for you?

  Knox: Yes, you.

  Me: Fine, I’ll be there in an hour.

  This will be my first time seeing Knox since the whole backseat-fingering situation I got myself into – or better yet when he got himself into me. I want to blame it on the champagne, but my raging hormones were the culprit. I haven’t been laid in six months.

  How is he going to act?

  Will he bring it up or sweep it under the rug so shit doesn’t get awkward?

  I have my fingers crossed on the rug sweeping.

  Shit. Fingers.

  That only reminds me of how well he knows how to work his.

  He brought me to a harder orgasm than I’ve had in awhile.

  I hit the garage door opener and park the Jeep inside. I find Knox lounging on the couch, shirtless, with his feet resting on the coffee table. I try to hold back from focusing my eyes on the water dripping from the top of his chest onto his lap, but I can’t.

  Please heart, do not let me catch feelings for this man … and if I have already, please help me rid of them.

  The sooner, the better.

  “Why aren’t you wearing a shirt?” I ask when I finish eye fucking him. I keep my distance, casually leaning against the arm of a chair. My nerves are going crazy.

  He grins, amused at my reaction. “Relax, boss woman. I finished my swim a few minutes ago.” He points to his swim trunks. “My dick is covered.” He lowers his voice. “Although from the way you’re looking at me, I think that might be why you’re so upset.”

  “Don’t flatter yourself,” I mutter.

  He chuckles. “You can pretend you’re annoyed with me all you want, sunshine, but you can’t pretend that I didn’t make you come the other night.”