A Night With Knox by Eve Jagger

Author:Eve Jagger [Jagger, Eve]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Contemporary, Two Hours or More (65-100 Pages), Literature & Fiction, Contemporary Fiction, Romance
Amazon: B018WEIJLM
Publisher: Eve Jagger Books
Published: 2015-12-02T05:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SEVEN

Knox

The next morning, I wake up to find the other side of the bed is empty. The covers have been thrown aside and they’re cool to the touch. I get up and walk to the edge of the loft. From this perspective, I can see the whole apartment. Shelby sits at the kitchen island, perched on a barstool, flipping through the paper. I slide on my jeans from the night before.

Loping down the stairs, I’m at a loss for what to do. Normally, these one night stands are at my place and it’s the girl’s job to do the casual exit.

I walk up behind Shelby, knowing I’m about to hit it out of the park. I wrap my arms around her and fit her head right under my chin.

“Didn’t take you for a cuddler,” she says without turning around.

“So many things to learn. You’re lucky I’m such a patient teacher.” I press a kiss to her temple. My fingers slip under the band of her sweats, resting on the curve of her perfect ass.

“Come back to bed. I bet I can get a home run before I head back to New York.” My fingers inch closer to her pussy.

Her body tenses on the words “New York.” Strike One. She gently pulls my hands out of her pants. Strike Two.

She turns around on her stool and stares up at me. There’s hesitation in her eyes. “And then what?”

Answer this question wrong, and I’m pretty sure it’s Strike Three and I’m out.

“We trade numbers. I’ll be in Atlanta every so often.” I’ve been a silent partner in the bar business since it started. That’s how I wanted it, but maybe it’s time to be more hands on. Especially if that allows me to be hands on with Shelby.

“Trade numbers and have a booty call once in a while—what an offer.” She grimaces. I’ll admit it’s not exactly ideal, but it’s better than nothing. Shelby’s got something most New York women—hell, most women—don’t: no love of my career. She’s fierce and lets me get away with absolutely nothing. Not to mention she’s got a slamming body. Any one of those is worth a few more hours on a plane.

“Last night was really great,” she says, running her hands up and down my arms. “And you’re very talented in bed.”

She seems to be hesitating, something on the tip of her tongue. “But…” I lead in for her.

She smiles and ducks her head. “Let’s just chalk it up to a memorable New Year’s Eve.” She gets up and brushes past me, heading toward the coffee pot on the other side of the kitchen. I take a few steps back, her words hitting me like a cold shower. This isn’t the “good morning” I had in mind—not after last night.

Concentrating on her coffee, she says, “I know how these things work. Five days a week, I’m around a whole team of guys who are married to their sport. I’ve watched marriages, long distance relationships, and casual fuck buddies break it off publicly and brutally.

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