Knock Love Out (A Sensual New Adult Crossover Romance)

by Grace, Pella

  “Don’t even talk to me about being appreciative, Adam. Do not even—” I start to walk away, but he steps in front of me.

  “No, you don’t even. I’m not the one who is wrong here. As crappy as I’ve felt over the last few years, I have never run to another woman to fix it. I have never been disloyal to you and at the end of every damn day I have always come home to you, Lil.

  “Those two days you went missing—you were with that punk weren’t you? Weren’t you? Was that the first time you slept with him? You’re disgusting. You crawled into our bed and slept next to me and you are so damn disgusting, Lilla, I can hardly stand the sight of you. My mother was right—I never should have married King trash.”

  “No,” I sniffle.

  “No?”

  “I didn’t sleep with him that night. You asked if I did—the answer is no. I didn’t. I went for a drive with him—but no, I didn’t sleep with him.”

  “I’m sure it’s all semantics at this point.”

  “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

  “Oh—well, in that case let us just forget all about it.”

  “I’m not apologizing so you’ll forgive me. I don’t want to be in this marriage. I’m just trying to give you the courtesy of knowing the truth. You deserve that much.”

  “How considerate of you, Lilla, but it won’t change anything. At the end of the day, you’re still just a slut who can’t keep her damn legs closed.”

  He catches my hand before it smacks him. I’m tugged towards him. Too close.

  “Does he do it like this?” Adam leans for my mouth, but I turn. He goes for my shirt, grabbing for my chest and I just want to disappear. “Does he whisper in your ear how he wants to fuck you, Lilla, and you’re so pretty and you buy that bullshit?”

  He keeps grabbing at me, too strong to wiggle free. Fat tears stream down my cheeks.

  “Adam, stop. Let me go.”

  “There’s no way that kid can please you better than a grown man could, Lil. I know all your secrets. I know every inch of you.”

  “No. Stop. Stop it!” I push at him and he let’s go, slamming his fists to the cabinets behind my head.

  “Betraying him isn’t allowed, but for me it’s alright! You’re something else, that’s for sure!”

  “Are you even listening to me! I said it isn’t about Cash. This marriage was over long before I ever knew Cash Valentine existed in this world. This is why our marriage doesn’t work. You think you know everything and pay no attention to what I am literally screaming at you!

  “Yeah—I like it when he touches me. I fucking love it when he touches me. I love it when he looks at me and when he laughs because he listens to what I say and how he makes me feel. Like I matter. I only slept with him once. I almost puked the next day and I haven’t slept with him since then. I’m not a bad person, Adam. Cheating on you was not right. I’m sorry for that—but everything else—I’m not sorry for it.

  “I was a good wife and I loved you as much as you would let me. But … it’s over for us. It’s been over for a long time.”

  He nods, his chest rising and falling angrily.

  “When he dumps you because the new shiny toy isn’t fun anymore, don’t come running back to me. I’m not going to save you or be waiting around for you to come to your senses. But mark my words—it will happen.

  “Then what will you do, Lilla? You’re an out-of-work marketing director. Have you even read a newspaper lately? People aren’t hiring. Businesses are closing at a rapid pace. You haven’t held down a steady job in over five years. You have no idea what the real world is like—any more than that punk-kid you’re relying on. Think about it. How will you even pay for a place to live? You have nothing without me, Lilla. Nothing.”

  ***

  The door is unlocked when I reach his apartment. I turn the knob and quietly step inside. Only the light from the loft is on. Place my bag on the floor and climb the stairs cautiously.

  Cash has a large white canvas on the floor. No shirt. Denim jeans blotted with a multitude of colors. Bare feet. Palm to the floor. The other hand moves a brush along the canvas. Red.

  I sit on the steps and watch him, unsure if he noticed my presence. He has music in his ears—I hear the muted melody from the buds turned up so loud.

  I’m too far away from him. His art will have to share. I crawl my way across the paper-littered floor, resting at his side. He doesn’t jump, so I assume he knew I was watching. Casually he pulls one of the buds from his ears, placing it into mine to share.

  His hand keeps working as the music plays.

  “How’d it go, Lil?”

  My mouth opens—the words are there. I can see them in my mind. I practiced them driving here. It was a solid plan. A wave of shakes rolls through my body, the realization of what took place thirty minutes ago finally coming to a front. Some sort of victim of a horrific accident. The aftershock. All of the anguish that I have pushed to the depths finding a place to surface after all of this time.

  Their oxygen is my suffocation.

  I can’t remember the last time I cried like this.

  Felt something so powerfully crippling.

  The movie theater sobs had nothing on this storm.

  Cash pulls the buds from our ears and I hear myself. I hear my own sorrow and how close to a blubbering baby I am.

  My mouth isn’t obeying any of our practiced speech. I was going to say fine. It was fine. He said have a nice life. He was happy. I was happy. I had a plan.

  “He kept all my stuff. He told me I was disgusting and, yeah, I’m disgusting.”

  Cash scoots away, and I think he is going to keep moving and never come back. Vanish, turning back into the type of magic he is.

  A piece of paper is pulled from the pile beside him, slid towards me.

  “She doesn’t look disgusting to me.” His hands slide soft as a feather over my wet face. “Neither does she.”

  A girl is outlined in charcoal. Her face peaceful, eyes closed. This is the picture he drew of me. Naked. Yeah. I guess so.

  “Who loves you, Lilla?”

  “You.”

  He nods, shrugging. “So who the fuck cares what Adam thinks.”

  He turns off the light, leading me down the dark staircase, picking me up into his arms once we reach the floor.

  The blanket on his bed smells fresh from the dryer as he rests me on top of it, pulling off his jeans before he reaches for my dress, tugging it over my head. His body is warm as he pulls me next to him, laying down to spoon behind me. His fingers unclasp my bra, draws the straps down my arms, and then tosses it to the floor.

  I close my eyes and I bask in the warmth of his skin pressed against mine. His lips dip into my shoulder, teasingly dotting kisses as he whispers to my skin.

  “How many stars do you think are in the sky?”

  My head shakes. “I don’t think I could take a guess.”

  “I think there’s a star for every wish. That’s why there are so many.”

  “What would you wish?”

  “To know what Mariah’s skin feels like.”

  I chuckle as his hold tightens. “Of course. I should have known.”

  “I bet she’s like crushed velvet.”

  My chuckling turns to giggles.

  “Why do you love her so much?”

  “It’s pure lust, Honey-girl. Just a stupid fantasy. And no—that wasn’t on purpose.”

  My smiles quickly fades.

  “What did I say?” he asks, noting my posture going rigid. I shake my head. “Don’t make me get the spatula, Lilla.”

  “It’s stupid. Something Adam said and I don’t wanna talk about it.” But now he’s silent and I’m replaying the words over and over and my mouth fails me once again. “He thinks this is just a fantasy. That it won’t work between us.”

  “Who loves you, Lilla?”

  “You.”

  “So who gives a fuck about Adam,” he repeats.

  “I don’t like it. I don�
��t like that the beginning of us was started because of something ugly between he and I.”

  “It didn’t.” Cash snuggles closer to me, kissing my arm again. “It started when I saw you being a pain in the ass picking through that box of cucumbers. Which, by the way, is my new favorite vegetable.”

  “Fruit.”

  “I think I was right the first time?” he says.

  “If it has seeds it’s a fruit. Cucumbers have seeds.”

  “English cucumbers don’t have seeds. What are they considered?”

  I turn my head. “How do you know English cucumbers don’t have seeds?”

  “I work in the fucking produce department.”

  “You didn’t know how to pick out a ripe cucumber.”

  “I didn’t say I had a Master Produce Clerk degree, but shit, I know some stuff. I’m not a complete slacker.”

  “Where were we going with this?” I laugh.

  “You had this fucked up notion that cucumbers are fruit.”

  “They are, Cash.”

  “Then a tomato is a fruit?”

  “Yup.”

  “Get the fuck out of my bed with your dirty lies, Lilla.”

  I get those giggles you can’t stop. I’m not sure if I’m going crazy, or I’m just exhausted. He kisses my forehead, smiling in the darkness as I flip, rolling to lie on his chest.

  “You’re warm, Cash, like, the best kind of warm.”

  “You’re beautiful,” he replies. “Like, the best kind of beautiful. The sky.”

  “Even though I know more about produce than you do?”

  “Even though.”

  I smile against his chest, closing my eyes to allow this dreadful day to say goodnight.

  My new heart speaks softly, calling his name.

  “Cash?”

  Sleepy warmth answers, “Yeah, Lil?”

  It’s also tender and afraid. “I love you.”

  “Love you,” he drifts off, scratching rough fingers against my head.

  I find comfort in the steady rhythm of his heart under my ear.

  “Lilla?” he calls out.

  I raise my head to see him. “Yeah?”

  Sleepy warmth grins with his eyes closed, “Cucumbers aren’t a fucking fruit.”

  PART EIGHT

  CASH

  Chapter Nineteen

  “Who is that?” I point towards the break room.

  Heath stands at my side, chomping on a green apple.

  “Mary.”

  “Mary? Our Mary? Mary-Mary? Mary who can’t ring up vegetables? Mary who says wazzup and touched my thigh the other night? That Mary?”

  “Yep.”

  “What the hell happened to her?”

  “Cherry.”

  “She looks completely different.”

  “Amazing what a good make-over does, huh? I can’t believe you dipped out on us the other night. Such a cock.”

  “I had an emergency,” I lie.

  “I bet. Was it called Lilla?”

  “Actually, yeah. She had a fight with her asshole husband. Needed consoling.”

  “Your dick isn’t therapy, dude,” he replies.

  “Not what your mom said, Heathy.”

  “Har-har—good joke when I was two.”

  I grin, “She was just as good when you were two.”

  “Say mom one more time and I’m gonna shove this apple core straight up your ass, Cash.”

  “Trying to get in my pants just like your mom?”

  I dodge his fist, both of us pausing as Mary pulls her hair into a ponytail, the hem of her shirt rising, revealing her stomach.

  “Still don’t want to tap that, Cash?”

  “Mary could get a complete body transfer and I still wouldn’t put my dick in her. No.”

  He laughs and then his eyes shift toward the hallway where Lilla is walking in our direction.

  I shine brighter.

  “I will have you know—” I dig out the piece of paper from my pocket. “Wikipedia declares cucumbers are vegetables.”

  Lilla makes a face, taking the printout from my hand.

  “Wikipedia is as reliable as a wet paper bag, Love Lump.”

  “Cucumbers are a fruit, man,” Heath butts in.

  “What planet are you two from?”

  “Dude, everyone knows if it has seeds, it is a fruit.”

  I toss the paper over my shoulder. “I am alone in a sea of uncertainty.”

  Lilla laughs and I press my lips to her happiness.

  “Can I have some too, Love Lump?” Heath shoves between us.

  “No, fuck off. Lilla doesn’t want to kiss you.”

  “I wasn’t talking to Lilla.” he rubs against my leg and I shove his chest. “Fine, play hard to get. I’m gonna go harass Mary and her new cleavage.”

  “That’s sexual harassment’s exact definition, Heath.”

  His hand waves me off as he strolls toward the break room.

  “Hey,” Lilla tugs on my shirt, pulling me towards her. There’s something different when our lips touch. She isn’t careful or shy.

  Eagerly bold.

  Small steps ushering us down the hall, away from the break room, to the wall. I smile around her kiss.

  “I don’t know what I did, but I’m glad as fuck I did it.”

  “You don’t want Mary.” She whispers quickly, pressing for another kiss.

  “Why would I want her when I have you?”

  “Exactly.” She steals another free kiss.

  Her hands go to the button on my pants. I’m twenty-four, getting hard happens fast. I can’t help it. But …

  “Lilla,” I warn. “My dad’s right behind that door and I’m sure he’s looking for me. It’s truck day.”

  “What happened to the guy who didn’t think? I love him.”

  Tugging at my own words. My own soft-spot that leads to the complete opposite. Tipped on her toes, rubbing rubs that are perfectly fine in this scenario. Sort of. No, perfect. Perfect. Like a fucking cat getting a good scratch by the tail.

  “Mm,” is what a bloodless brain replies, drunk with the need for more.

  “I need the man who doesn’t think.” Her fingers pop the button, pull at my fly.

  Something about the way my hands feel on the curve of her hips. How her mouth tastes. The vanilla scented skin she’s torturing me with. It’s been too long since I’ve played with her so intimately.

  “Ah fuck,” I pant. “I’ve gotten in trouble for shit that wasn’t worth half of this.”

  So small and easily she lifts into my arms, resting on my hips, to move us to the alcove within the hallway, near the drinking fountain. In love with how she clings to me, winding her arms around my shoulders. Mouth to mouth. Moving her underwear to the side so I can gain access to what I’m craving. Lilla rests on her feet again, as I slip away, resting on my knees. I let my middle finger slide slowly across her skin, to see if she’s being honest. Does she really want sex in the store? Maybe it’s just to prove a point – she can be like the other women I’ve fucked here. Younger. Alright, fine, let’s play.

  “You’re warm,” I tell her, looking up, as she stares down at me. She rests her foot on my shoulder to prove she’s dead serious. My middle finger sinks inside of her, “Like, the best kind of warm, Lilla.” She puts her hand under my chin, silently asking me to stand. My finger slides free, but my hand stays between her legs giving a teasing smack, before lifting her back onto my hips. Effortlessly we join, pausing for a moment when I reach her limit. As Lilla tightens her legs around my waist, the movement effectively causes her to clutch around my dick. I can’t stop. I can’t wait. She says my name to torture me, and to tip the scales in her favor.

  My hunger for her kisses greedily down her throat. Each thrust is a promise to stay and love her. I won’t run away from Lilla and leave her like the other asshole people in her life who preceded me. I pray she feels it as I bounce her higher on my hips and forget where we are, who might see us. Caution to the wind toward being qui
et and careful – for just a moment – as I fuck her fully, steadily. Lilla’s an idiot for trying to prove herself to me with a dirty store fuck. She’s not like other women I’ve fucked or have known – that’s the whole damn point.

  I know it’s exactly what Poppy told me not to do. A fire I should run away from. It’s the old question: If something is wrong why does it feel so right? I think I’m perfectly fine with being dead wrong. I’m beyond the point of returning to logic. I fucking love her like crazy.

  I fall against the wall with her, smothering her mouth with mine in an assault of lust, love, kisses. I want it all over her. To fill her with what I feel inside of me.

  A star? A wish?

  I wish we weren’t in the damn hallway of the store. I wish this were my bed and I could go slower. I wish time could cease and this moment could go on forever. I wish I could appreciate all of the sounds I’m regrettably swallowing down to keep us a secret. Her whispered pleas for more. More. I wish I had more.

  “I love you. Christ, I love you, Lilla.”

  Her legs squeeze around my waist.

  Forehead to forehead, “I love you.”

  “You don’t have to say it because I did.”

  “Didn’t.”

  And this brave little girl looks me right in the eyes when she says it, watching as I tell her through a steady silent rhythm how I feel when she talks to me like that. Her mouth falls open and wishes … I wish she’d say it again. I wish she …

  I hear the brakes of the delivery truck hissing. My fathering hollering my name. Closer. Too close.

  “Shit,” I pull from her, sliding Lilla to her feet so I can hug her against me, and hide what was happening.

  The stockroom door swings open. Claude is pissed.

  “You’re supposed to be waiting for the damn truck, Warren!”

  “Yeah, I was just about to come. Thanks, Dad.”

  Lilla shakes against me, her head down but I know she’s laughing at that.

  As intended.

  “Whoever your friend is—she needs to get out of this hallway. You’re violating safety codes.”

  “Yeah,” my chest sighs, fingers curling into her soft hair. “I know.”

  PART NINE

  LILLA KING