Taste of Commitment (Whisky and Risky #2)

25. Knox

Knox

Waking up with Taylor in my bed feels like when you’ve had the tune of a song stuck in your head and you can’t quite figure out the name of it, but then it finally comes to you. She barrel-rolled into my life one night in the middle of a storm, which is ironic, considering she's been the sunshine on my darkest days. The perfect little puzzle piece that I hadn’t realized I was missing, but, I’ve never felt more complete than I do in this moment.

Her long blonde hair flows down her back one of her hands resting on my chest. I play with the little blue eye bracelet she always wears along her delicate wrist and I listen to her deep, rhythmic breaths. She sleeps peacefully in my arms, her lips parted slightly, and I trace every line of her face with my eyes. I know deep in my bones that I could wake up like this every day and be happy for the rest of my life. I feel more confident after last night that I can broach the subject of her staying, or at least extending her trip.

I watch her eyelashes flutter softer than butterfly wings, and her chest presses into me a little harder on a deep stretch. Her eyes open, looking around before she remembers where she is, and looks up at me with sleepy, but happy eyes.

“You know you laugh in your sleep?”

She rolls on her back, covering her face with both hands, but I don’t miss her perfect smile. “You heard that?”

“Alfie on the other side of town heard that.” Her stomach shakes and I roll onto my side, propping up onto my elbow. “What were you dreaming about?”

“It’s not even funny, but in my dream it was. I laughed so hard that it woke me up, which only made me laugh harder.” She drops her hands from her face and I crawl on top of her, sliding between her legs. She runs her fingers through the top of my hair and I suppress a moan at the touch. “Good morning.” Her usual raspy voice is extra hoarse this morning which only causes my dick to stir even more. I kiss her stomach and she shifts her hips beneath me.

I reach over to the nightstand and both of her hands cup the sides of my face, pulling me to look at her.

“I got my shot before I left,” she says, searching my eyes. “I want to feel you, Knox. I want to feel you with nothing between us.” I drop my head to her neck on a deep exhale—that sounds more like a growl—and I breathe her in, as I attempt to cage in the feral animal pulling on the bars inside me right now.

I tip my face, kissing her neck, and her pulse kisses me back. I drag my lips down, kissing every inch of her naked body until I’m settled down between her legs. I hook the backs of her thighs over my shoulders, inhaling her scent before I run a wide, flat tongue up her center and her back arches from the bed.

I tease her entrance with my fingers, but she’s already so wet, they dip right in.

“Yes.” She whimpers as her head drops back with her eyes closed. Her arms reach to the headboard behind her. I scissor my fingers inside her while lapping up her clit and her body bucks roughly beneath me, pulling away and then thrusting back for more. When I close my mouth around her clit and suck, she screams my name as her arousal coats my mouth.

Her breath is heavy and choppy as I come up to my knees and position myself at her entrance, wrapping her legs around my waist. I look into her eyes, silently asking if she’s sure, and with an answering nod, I slide into her.

“Oh, fuck,” I grunt. She’s so wet and hotter than I could have ever imagined, and her tight little cunt grips my cock hard enough that my vision blurs. I hang my head, looking between us when I pull out almost fully, keeping only the tip covered, and let a line of spit fall from my lips. Her breath catches when it lands perfectly on my cock and drips down my length before pooling at her swollen clit. I thrust back into her, one hand burrowing a hole in the mattress by her head, the other tangled in her hair as I pull lightly.

“Is this what you wanted, Taylor?” My thrusts turn punishing.

“Yes,” she breathes. “Oh god, Knox.” It’s a cry of pleasure and a warning, and I’m right there with her.

I bring my mouth crashing down to hers in a searing kiss, and she screams from the back of her throat as I finish deep inside her.

We stay in bed as long as possible, holding each other and watching the curtains blow across the room on the morning breeze.

“Hey.” I trail my hand down her hair, and she looks up at me. “Do me a favor? ”

“What?”

“Sing for me.” Her eyes roll back with a smile on her face, and she leans out of my grip. “Come on, I’m begging.”

I wiggle my eyebrows, and she playfully elbows me before I scoop her up and pull her onto my lap.

Her hand trails down my bare chest and I wonder if she can feel the way it’s knotted up inside. Her mouth pulls into a tight line as she runs her fingers over the thick scar on my shoulder. I drag my thumb between her brows and the crease between them eases away. I would do anything to take away every concern for the girl who not only sees the real me but likes him.

I cup the nape of her neck and kiss the side of her face. “Come on, Nova, let’s shower.”

She drops her head back with a groan, which I expected because I’ve come to notice that switching or starting a task seems to take more effort for her. I stand from the bed with her still locked in my arms. “Don’t worry, I’ll do it for you.” Something like disbelief crosses her face, and I don’t know if anyone has ever looked more beautiful.

After I washed Taylor’s hair and body, I wrapped her in a warm towel and sent her out so I could shower. Apparently, showering together doesn’t involve a lot of actual showering. I towel dry my hair and pause, listening to the clanging of pots and pans that sound from my kitchen. I hang the towel, pull on some athletic shorts, and stop in the doorway when I catch sight of Taylor making breakfast. Music plays through the small speaker on her phone and the morning sun rays hit her just right as she whisks eggs and sways her damp hair to the music. I bite my bottom lip when she reaches up for something on the top shelf, stretching up onto her tiptoes and the hem of my old RFU Championship T-shirts rides up her thighs, and I don’t need it to rise any higher to know she’s not wearing anything under it. She makes quick work of chopping veggies before throwing them in a preheated pan and I feel a physical jolt through my body when I catch a glimpse at the unmistakable gleam in her eyes. Pride. Taylor is, without a doubt, one of the most confident people I’ve ever met, but whenever I’ve found her in a kitchen, it’s more than that. She stands a little taller. This is where she is meant to be.

“Saving material for your spank bank?” she calls over her shoulder, throwing my words from the night in my hot tub back at me. I round the kitchen island and wrap my arms around her from behind. Her soft tendrils of hair tickle my face as I nuzzle my nose to her neck, and breathe her in. Even through a kitchen full of potent foods, I still find her scent.

“What are you making?” I kiss the hollow of her neck.

“Just a simple roasted vegetable tostada with ancho chile and spices that I’ll top with a fried egg, queso fresco, and salsa.”

“Oh yeah, those are always the words I use when I talk about simple cooking, too.”

Her buttery, soft laugh echoes in my chest when she drops her head back on me. I grip her chin and pull her into a kiss, my fingers splay down her fluttering neck and I want more. I grip her hips, lifting her onto the counter where she wraps her arms and legs around me, never breaking where our lips meet and immediately my cock starts to stiffen in my shorts.

“Let’s go back to bed,” I breathe before sucking her bottom lip.

“We can’t.” Her hands press to my chest as she looks over my shoulder. “And the food is about to burn. Do you want to eat or not? ”

“I can think of something else I’d rather eat.” Her neck has a gravitational pull the way my mouth can’t stay away.

“Knox!” She pushes me back, with a giggle. “You have physical therapy in less than an hour.”

“Last time she said I was close to graduating. I could probably skip it.” I shrug my shoulder.

“No, you can’t.” She slinks under my arm, hopping down. “And besides, I’m going to help your mom prepare dinner early since I’m going out for Sophie’s party tonight.”

My head falls with a sigh. “I forgot about that.”

I turn, leaning against the counter, feeling my moment to ask her slipping away.

“Now.” She smacks my ass with the back of a spatula. “Go get dressed and maybe you’ll have time to eat before you leave.”

I grip her wrist and she remains her tight hold on her utensil when I drop my lips to her ear. “Quit giving me ideas, Nova,” I growl and pinch her little nipple that’s now poking through my shirt.

I adjust myself in my shorts as I leave the kitchen and something between a moan and laugh echoes behind me.

Practice was more difficult than usual today. It’s the end of the week and the boys are tired. Ronan was especially ornery today. It doesn’t help that I couldn’t focus on anything except all the words I left unsaid with Taylor this morning.

I take a seat a few rows up on the bleachers, waiting for everyone to file out. I get a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach when I think about the possibility of having missed my opportunity to ask her to consider staying. She’s not wearing her feelings on her like an extravagant coat, but last night, she opened up and talked to me in a way I didn’t think was possible for her. This morning was my opportunity and fuck, what if I missed it?

Ronan’s huff of anger while texting on his phone pulls me from my thoughts.

“Alright, Berkley. What gives?”

“What?” he snaps at me while shoving his shoes in his bag.

“You’re pissed off and distracted. Talking to someone has to feel better than sitting there boiling about it. So tell me, what’s up?”

“Don’t worry about it. It’s stupid high school shit.”

“Out of all the kinds of shit, stupid high school shit is my favorite kind.”

He rolls his eyes. Have I become the uncool old guy?

“Listen, I’m trying not to be an asshole?—”

“You are?” I interrupt and his scowl only deepens.

“But,” he says pointedly. “There’s just no point. You can’t help.”

“Who said anything about helping? I just want you to talk so you stop beating the piss out of your gear.”

He looks down at where his hands have a fifty-fifty chance of spasming from the grip he has on his bag. I watch the color return to his fingers as he slowly uncurls them. His chest rises on a deep inhale as he leans back against the railing, crossing his arms and he begrudgingly speaks.

“My girlfriend is pissed at me.” Okay, we’re talking real stupid high school shit, got it. Ronan is on eggshells as it is, so as much as I want to roll my eyes, I don’t.

“Do you know why?”

He shrugs, kicking a hole in the dirt. “She’s just mad that I don’t have a lot of extra time to hang out right now. ”

“Ahhh,” I say, understanding.

“What?”

“You’re prioritizing rugby over your girl.”

He stills. “Yeah. I mean, no, not like that. I just?—”

“You just spend more time focused on rugby than you do her,” I supply.

He drops his head, pushing off the railing towards his bag again. “This was fucking stupid. I knew you wouldn’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t I?” I get up from the bench. “You’ve been in a pissed-off mood since I got here, which tells me this has been an issue since the season started, possibly even before. You obviously like her enough that you’re trying to keep her around, but mate, she’s going to keep living her life. She's going to be at the town fair with her girls and maybe even some guys that can spare a minute for fun, and you’re going to be left alone in your bedroom cradling your ball.” He whips his head at me and pretty soon there will be no space left between his brows.

“You’re rugby ball,” I clarify, pointing to the ball at his feet.

“Okay, so you do know what you’re talking about. You just suck at it.”

That makes me laugh, and I lift my hands in an apologetic, non-threatening way. “To be fair, I did say I wasn’t here to give advice.”

He drops his head with a sigh and sits down on the bench. “She just doesn’t understand how important this is. She doesn’t get that once I make it, then I’ll be able to spend more time with her. But I have to do this now.”

“You won’t.”

“What?” I stare out across the pitch, to the tree-lined border, and wish like hell I could be back in Ronan’s shoes for a day. Not that I necessarily think I would have changed anything, especially knowing where I ended up today; but who’s to say he would be as lucky?

“There’s always going to be another goal, a higher level or desired result. I see a lot of myself in you, Ronan. And if you’re anything like me, you’re never going to be full of this sport. Your hunger will drive you and motivate you until everything in your life, all the way down to the goddamn air you breathe—is rugby.” I turn to face him and his eyes are studying me, he’s lost the attitude and gained something like concern. “But mate, I promise you, you can have it all and not give up everything to get there. I’ve seen it.”

I’ve always thought I gave up everything. I even unintentionally resented some of my teammates for somehow being able to be alongside me but with so much more at home. But I’m realizing I didn’t have anything to begin with. I might have sacrificed the chance or opportunity for things, but I didn’t give up anything I already had.

Losing Taylor would be losing everything.

“What if…” he trails off, looking down at his hands. “What if it’s too late?”

I slide my hands into my pockets, and I make my way down the bleachers. Visions of that sunshine smile fill my head. I won’t let the dull, heavy weight on my chest that’s made of all the things I let go unsaid this morning, take away my everything.

I stop in front of Ronan, but he doesn’t look at me. “It’s never too late, buddy.”

I pat his shoulder and make my way out to the parking lot.

I need to get home to my girl and tell her how I feel before I’m the one left alone in my bedroom cradling my ball.