Knox: A Chicago Blaze Hockey Romance

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Knox: A Chicago Blaze Hockey Romance Page 11

by Brenda Rothert


  “And special thanks to Knox Deveraux for his donation of $50,000, which was matched by Harry Stone,” she says. “You’re welcome to stay as late as you’d like, but whenever you leave, please travel home safely tonight. Thanks again.”

  I turn to Knox, slack-jawed once again. “$50,000?”

  He winks at me. That wink of his is going to be my undoing.

  “That was nice of Harry; I’ll have to thank him,” Knox says.

  “Who’s Harry Stone?”

  “He’s a retired Blaze player. Retired about ten years ago when he was still in his twenties even though he was a top player. Joined the military and served five years. Now he’s a successful businessman.”

  “Wow. That was awfully nice of him.”

  “He’s a good dude. Always steps up to support good causes.”

  Knox stands up and reaches for my hand. “Ready for our date?”

  “Now?” I cry.

  He grins. “No, I’m kidding. I want a full night with you, and it’s getting late. But I do think we need to finish that kiss when I take you home tonight.”

  “Who says it wasn’t finished?” I ask in challenge, taking his hand and standing up.

  “Me.” He gives me a serious look. “I’ll never be done kissing you, though.”

  My heart pounds as our eyes stay locked together. No one’s ever said anything like that to me. And while part of me wants to believe it, that cynical devil on my shoulder tells me men will say whatever it takes to get a woman in bed.

  “Reese, I can’t thank you enough,” Monica, the Mission director, says from beside us. “So many women and children will benefit from the programs we’ll get to keep now.”

  She hugs me, and I look at Knox as I hug her back. I feel such an enormous amount of gratitude for him right now. Is that why I can’t stop thinking about how much I want to bring him back to my place tonight and recreate all the dirty things we did in Kauai?

  I don’t think so. I wish I was the kind of woman who could have casual sex, but I’m not. Kauai was my one and only opportunity to do it, because I never thought we’d see each other again.

  “I really didn’t do much,” I tell Monica. “Knox talked to the people who run the foundation and they did all the work.”

  “So this is Knox?” Monica says, shaking his hand. “Thank you so much.”

  “I was glad to do it.”

  A woman from the Blaze’s PR department comes over then, saying she’s rounding up all the players for a photo of Anton giving Monica a giant check. I stand back and watch as several pictures are taken, and I feel a greater sense of pride than I’ve ever had before.

  Creating an award-winning dessert gives me a sense of accomplishment. Finishing culinary school gave me that same feeling—I set my mind to a big goal and reached it.

  But what I do at the shelter makes me proud. I feel like I’m a small part of women rebuilding their lives after abuse. Maybe I’m a small part of their children growing up in a healthy, safe environment. Even if I did it full-time, as my job, it would never feel like work. It’s more of a calling.

  I’m feeling it powerfully tonight. There are a few women here tonight who once lived at the shelter and have moved on to make new lives for themselves. As I see their smiles when the PR people are taking photos of them with Monica and Angelia, I think about the New York job offer again.

  What if I could do what I’ve done at the shelter on a grander scale? What if I could go to a place like that every day and make a difference?

  I feel an arm go around my waist from behind and turn to find Knox.

  “Hey, some of the guys are going out for drinks, you want to go?” he asks me.

  “Sure, if you do.”

  He shrugs. “It’s just the single guys; I’d rather skip it.”

  We say our goodbyes and find the car Knox hired for the night, the driver waiting for us nearby. The entire ride back to my place, I nod, smile and talk about the fundraiser with him, but really, I’m preoccupied with something else.

  What will I do if we get to my apartment and he asks if he’s coming in? Or if he asks whether he should have the driver wait or…

  I don’t know how I’ll make my mouth say the word “no” to him. His words about unbuttoning his tux are still ringing in my ears.

  I’ve got a lot of thinking to do about the New York job offer, and also about Knox. But tonight, I’m happy. Tonight is about Knox stepping up to help with something big that was important to me.

  There’s nothing I’d rather do than spend the night in bed with him. In Kauai, he made me forget everything but us. I laughed, relaxed and had mind-blowing orgasms just days after finding out my fiancé was cheating on me in the worst possible way.

  Until now, I’ve never really thought about how amazing it was that Knox was able to get my mind off of what happened at my almost-wedding. It was an incredible couple of days living in the moment.

  I could do that again tonight. I want to do that again tonight. Take Knox inside with me and check all my worries at the door, just until tomorrow. I want him to remind me what it’s like to give and receive sexual pleasure, because it’s been so long since we were together that way.

  When the driver pulls up to my curb, I smile over at Knox and ask, “Want to come in?”

  He gives me a sexy grin in return. “Very much, but I’m just gonna walk you up.”

  “I’ll be right back,” he says to the driver.

  My cheeks warm, but this time, it’s with embarrassment. Did I just get rebuffed by the man who’s been chasing me for weeks? I’m more than confused as I step out of the car and he walks me up the outer stairs of my building.

  “Um, when I asked if you wanted to come inside, I meant like, come inside,” I say, looking over at him to gauge his reaction.

  His eyes flare with what looks like arousal. “And I’d like nothing more, but not tonight.”

  I don’t let my aggravation show. Apparently this is how it’s gonna be for us. When he wants me, I don’t want him, and when I want him, he’s not interested in me. Or if we do happen to both be interested, we’re living many states apart.

  “Well, goodnight,” I say shortly, fishing through my bag.

  I’ve just wrapped my hands around my house keys when Knox wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me in for a long, slow kiss. The cool fall night breeze doesn’t even feel cold as he tugs on my lower lip with his teeth just slightly and keeps kissing.

  I’m breathless by the time he finally groans softly and pulls away.

  “Let me know when you’re free for that date,” he says, kissing my forehead and then stepping back.

  As soon as his hands are off my waist, I miss them. But I keep my composure, unlocking the door to my building and managing to tell him goodnight. I’m dizzy—both from the kiss and from wanting him so badly—but I don’t let on.

  “See you soon, Reese,” he says, closing the door to my building behind me.

  I hear him tug on the handle to make sure it’s locked, and I smile. He really is a protector through and through.

  Once inside my apartment, I slip out of my heels and grab a pint of Ben and Jerry’s from my freezer, taking a big bite before I go into my bedroom to change into sweats.

  Ice cream isn’t the way I planned to forget my cares tonight. But it’ll have to do.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Knox

  Three weeks later

  I dive, my mouth wide open as I just barely catch the apple cinnamon Cheerio Reese threw before I hit the floor with an enormous thud.

  “Unreal,” Reese grumbles.

  I laugh, turning onto my back and putting my hands behind my head. “I told you, this is my jam.”

  “You’re gonna end up dislocating something,” Reese says, putting on her reading glasses before looking down at the recipe in the cookbook on her small kitchen island. “I won’t be held responsible for it.”

  “Somebody’s cranky,” I quip. “If I can handle 230 poun
ds of solid muscle running into me like a freight train on a sheet of ice, I think I can manage to catch a few Cheerios in my mouth without getting hurt.”

  Reese points at me with a wooden spoon. “All I ask is that I get to be there when you tell your coach you pulled your groin diving for a Cheerio.”

  “Won’t happen.” I get up from the floor and grab the box of Cheerios from the island, sliding it toward her. “Throw another one.”

  “No.”

  “Come on.”

  She glares at me. “I’m busy making a breakfast casserole for eight, which you’ll immediately eat half of without gaining an ounce.”

  “Ah, babe. I burn lots of calories skating.”

  She laughs. “Well, I can’t keep eating the same stuff as you, because I don’t burn lots of calories skating.”

  I give her a look of mock confusion before she turns back to her cookbook. “Let’s see…how can you burn lots of calories without even leaving the apartment? Maybe something where you use all your muscle groups and it’s so much fun, you don’t even realize that it’s exercise?”

  “Stop teasing me.”

  I spread my arms out wide. “How am I teasing you?”

  “Well for one thing, look at you.” Reese looks up from the recipe and gives me a once over. “You’re wearing boxer briefs and nothing else.”

  I approach her from behind, sliding a hand beneath the baggy sweatshirt she likes to sleep braless in. She moans softly and leans her head back against my chest as I run my fingertips up the warm skin on her spine.

  “Feel good?” I say in her ear.

  “Mmm, so good.”

  Since our first official date a few weeks ago, Reese and I have been together all the time unless one or both of us is working. She stayed at my place one night, but I like to stay at hers because she cooks for me and her bed sheets smell like her.

  We haven’t talked about whether we’re in a relationship, because I know that’ll freak her out and she’ll probably retreat if that happens. I don’t care whether it’s called a relationship or not, because what we have going now is exactly what I want, even without the label.

  I’ve always assumed from the moans and groans of women I’m with that what I’m doing must feel good. But with Reese, for the first time, I want to ask. I want to hear her tell me what feels the best and how she most likes to be touched and kissed.

  There’s been lots of touching and kissing the past couple weeks, and more than a few orgasms, but we still haven’t had actual sex. I’m pretty sure that’ll freak Reese out, too, and I’m more than happy to show her how much I love eating her pussy by doing it every morning we’re together.

  My hands travel from her back to her front, still beneath her sweatshirt. Her smooth, warm skin makes my cock stiffen against the small of her back. I tweak her nipples with my thumbs and forefingers and the wooden spoon falls from her hand, bouncing off the island before hitting the floor.

  “Oh, Knox,” she says in a breathy tone.

  Nothing works me up like the way she says my name when she’s turned on. I’m completely hard now, as she must know since she’s pressing back against me. I slide one hand down the front of the little black cotton shorts she’s wearing with no panties, finding her wet when I slip a finger inside her.

  Things are about to get really good when out of nowhere, “The Imperial March” from Star Wars starts blaring. Reese jumps and looks across the room, where her phone is sitting on the other side of the kitchen counter playing the song as a ringtone.

  “No,” she says softly, shaking her head and cringing.

  I remove my hands from her body and put them back at my sides, the mood shifted from sexy to something I’m not sure of…but I know I don’t like it.

  “What is it?” I ask Reese as the song keeps playing.

  “Eric. I haven’t talk to him since…”

  I’m fucking pissed. How dare he call her, after what he did? She’s finally in a good place, and this call might set her back. It might set us back. I stalk around to the other side of the counter and pick up her phone, sliding my finger across the screen to answer it.

  “Hello?”

  “Oh…” A douchey male voice says. “I guess I have the wrong number.”

  “Are you looking for my girlfriend? Reese?” I play it cool, though it’s hard as hell.

  “I…yeah, I guess I am.”

  “And you are?”

  “Eric Darnell.”

  “Eric?” I pretend I’m just figuring out who he is. “Are you that asshole who screwed her over at the altar? The one who fucked her ugly-ass friends?”

  There’s silence on the other end of the line.

  “I take that as a yes,” I say.

  “Can I just talk to Reese?” he asks flatly.

  “Fuck no, you can’t.” I go into the living room, pacing like a caged lion. “Do you know who I am, Eric?”

  “You already said.” His voice drips with sarcasm. “You’re her boyfriend.”

  “Yeah, I am, but I’m also an enforcer for the Chicago Blaze. You know what that means, don’t you? It means I beat the asses of guys who are more man than you’ll ever be for a living. I’ve broken jaws, Eric. I draw blood on the regular. I once did some serious damage to a guy’s ball sac.” I let that sink in for a couple seconds before asking, “Do you still want to talk to Reese?”

  He sighs into the phone and says, “No, I guess not.”

  “Yeah, I guess not. And if you try to contact her again, I’ll do all three of those things to you at the same time, got it? I’ll put your ball sac in your jaw, break it, and then make you bleed. You know I can do that if I want to, right, Eric?”

  “Yeah, I’m…I’m sure you can.”

  “Knox Deveraux,” I growl into the phone. “Look me up online. And then go fuck yourself.”

  I end the call, set the phone on the coffee table and grab my shirt from the back of the couch.

  “I know,” I say, not looking at Reese. “I overstepped. You could have handled it yourself. But I couldn’t fucking help it, I—”

  She grabs the shirt from my hands and tosses it to the floor. Our eyes meet then, and hers are a darker green than I’ve ever seen them, her chest moving up and down as she breathes in the silence.

  “You didn’t overstep,” she says, her voice breaking with emotion.

  She pulls her sweatshirt up over her head and lets it fall to the floor, the late morning sun shining on her spectacular, nearly naked body through the tops of the windows in her apartment, where there are no blinds. I’m spellbound as she slides her shorts off, her lean but curvy body making me completely hard once again.

  Reese pulls my boxer briefs off, then pushes me down onto her couch and climbs on top of me, positioning her pussy over my erection before I even know what’s happening.

  My cock knows, though, and fuck, does it feel good when Reese sinks halfway down the length of me, moaning and moving back up. I want to grab her hips and bury myself all the way in, but I know that’ll hurt her, so instead I press my palms to the couch cushions, my head falling back as I groan from the tight, wet feel of her.

  She’s like an uncaged beast forcing her body to take a little bit more of me each time as she rides me in a way no woman ever has before. It feels fucking unreal, sure, but this is for her. Reese is fucking me. She’s riding my dick in pursuit of the release she needs after hearing the conversation I just had with her ex.

  “Knox,” she says, her breath hot against my lips as she cups my cheeks in her hands. “Oh, God…” She’s taking my full length now, picking up the pace and riding me hard.

  I can’t stop myself anymore. I wrap my hands around her hips and fuck her in return, our moans and grunts filling her small apartment as we both approach the brink.

  Reese leans back, letting me steady her. Her tits bounce up and down and she tips her head back, both of us chasing the high we only get from each other.

  Then, she ruins me for all other women forever. R
eese looks straight into my eyes, tears shining in hers, and says, “I love you, Knox.”

  I lose control of everything, starting to come. She grinds down on my cock and rides harder, crying out as she comes, too. I’ve never seen her let go of all inhibition the way she does in this moment—both physically and emotionally.

  It takes a while for us to both come down, and then she wraps herself around me and I sink against the back of the couch.

  She’s breathing hard, her face buried in the side of my neck. It takes me a solid minute to catch my breath and start thinking clearly again. It was hands-down the hottest, most amazing sex of my life. The sex in Kauai was great, but what we did just now…it was unreal.

  And I know why. I was lusting for Reese then, but now, there’s something much bigger between us.

  Stroking my hand over the top of her head, I say, “I love you, too.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Reese

  Knox walks in front of my treadmill, giving me a wry smile.

  “Hey, don’t overdo it there, beast,” he says jokingly, leaning around to look at the screen on the machine I’m using. “3.5 miles an hour?” He shakes his head, still grinning.

  “Hey, I’m not training for a marathon or anything.”

  He arches a brow. “Clearly. It’d take you three days to do one, at this pace.”

  I turn down the speed on my treadmill and step off when the belt is almost at a stop. Knox offers me a hand and I take it, just to be safe. It’s been a long time since I’ve been on a treadmill.

  “You’re lucky I even came,” I remind him. “I should be at home sleeping right now.”

  “I am glad you came. And I already got a shower, so I’m ready to go get breakfast if you are.”

  “Yeah, I can shower at home. I’m not sweating that much.”

  “Shocking.” Knox leans down to kiss me, probably earning me the scorn of every woman in the gym wearing just sports bras and shorts as they work on deepening the lines of their already defined abs.

  I poke his chest, and there’s zero resistance there, which makes me roll my eyes. “Next time I’m staying in bed.”

 

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