I swallowed down a lump in my throat. I couldn’t take it to know he was still the same man he was before we met. I’d shared pieces of myself with him, made myself completely vulnerable, and I needed to know he was meeting me halfway.
“Listen, I’m not saying I’m a hundred percent, or that I’ll never slip up, but I have been trying, McKenna.”
My heart crashed violently against my ribs. It wasn’t a promise, it wasn’t any sort of guarantee, but nothing with him ever would be. I had to decide if I could accept that. My head said no, but my lonely heart was willing to try. I rolled closer, needing to feel the shelter his warm body provided.
Knox was trying. It might not be much, but knowing I’d inspired change in him meant everything. It meant maybe I was doing something right, that my hard work was beginning to pay off. As I lay there with him, warm and secure, I never wanted this moment to end. The vulnerability he showed me, his belief that things would turn out okay, it was all so fragile, but it was all I had.
Wrapping his arm around my middle to snuggle me in closer, his big palm came to a rest on my exposed hip, sending a tiny thrill zipping through me. My entire body buzzed with awareness. I wanted to pretend he was mine, that this was all normal—me and him alone in his bed. I wanted to touch him. We were so close, I could feel the heat from his skin and smell his scent—a combination of body wash and a slight hint of mint toothpaste. The urge to nuzzle into his neck and feel the stubble from his jaw scrape my skin rose up inside me. Instead I remained rooted in place, my breathing growing shallow and rapid as desire for him raced through my system.
I would never be able to sleep in this state. My heart slammed against my ribs, nearly knocking the breath from my lungs. “There’s something I want to try.”
“What’s that?” he asked, his voice strained.
“Do you think I could…touch you?”
He swallowed heavily, his Adam’s apple moving in the dim light. “You want to touch me?”
I knew this was hard for him—being physical without hav**g s*x—but maybe it was good for him too. Like stretching before a workout, he had to develop these muscles if he wanted to grow stronger, if he wanted to heal.
“Would that be bad?” I bit my lip, sort of liking the idea of being naughty after being good for so long. I wanted to feel his warmth, to make sure what I felt blooming inside me was real. That he was real.
“I’m pretty sure that would be really bad. One touch from you and I’d probably embarrass myself.”
I pouted, though I was almost positive he couldn’t see my expression. “What do you mean?”
He drew a breath and released it slowly through clenched teeth. “You have no idea how badly I want you. You’re beautiful, smart, talented, kind, and good to your very core. Touching me will only taint you, as bad as I might want it.”
He wouldn’t decide this for me. Knox was a good man, despite his history. I placed my palm flat on his bare abs and felt him tense. “Will you show me?”
“Show you?”
“What you like,” I said, recovering. I didn’t want him to know how inexperienced I really was.
“Fuck,” he bit out. “McKenna, we shouldn’t do this.”
My hand curled into a fist, retracting away from him. “Do you not want to?”
He cursed again. “Trust me, that’s not it. You get my dick so hard, but it’s more than that. You’re more than that.”
My heart soared. Hearing him acknowledge that I was something special to him did strange things to me. And the fact that I turned him on despite my lack of knowledge…it made my heart pound like a drum and my panties grow damp.
Uncurling my fingers, I flattened my palm against his stomach and again felt his jerky inhale. I let my hand begin to trail south. A dusting of fine hairs tickled my palm as I lightly caressed him. When I reached the waistband of his boxer briefs, Knox sucked in a breath and held it. Not yet brave enough to feel him skin to skin, I brushed my hand against his erection and warmth flooded my panties.
I rubbed the length of his manhood as my heart thundered in my chest. My confidence growing, I rubbed him up and down, feeling bold and powerful. He felt thick and long, and I wanted to see him.
“Kenna…” He groaned, sending a little rush of tingles skittering out over my skin.
As my endorphins kicked in, my inexperience no longer mattered. I felt alive, and I wanted this—to touch this beautiful, broken man, to be part of making him whole again.
My fingers edged into the waistband of his boxers and Knox lifted his h*ps slightly off the mattress, allowing me to pull them down and free his heavy cock.
Under the faintest glow of moonlight, I admired his body—his strength, masculinity, and the tender way he was watching me. He was making himself vulnerable to me, letting me take control and do things at my own pace. The emotional weight of the moment left me breathless. But then my gaze lowered and my breath caught in my throat. He was huge.
Curling my hand around him, I was surprised to feel how soft and smooth the skin was despite being rock hard and turgid beneath my grasp. As I ran my fingertips up and down the length of him, Knox let out a breathy groan. My core clenched. The idea of him filling me left me warm and achy. My palm slid lightly against him, gently massaging and caressing his considerable length as I savored the feel of him. Lightly rubbing smooth, hot flesh, I watched in fascination as he grew even harder.
Knox wrapped his hand over mine, increasing the pressure of my grip. “Like this.” Our hands moving together, he dictated the pace of our movements until I was rhythmically stroking him from base to tip.
He released a shuddering breath and his head fell back against the pillow. “Fuck, your hand feels good.”
My pace increased as I watched Knox’s reactions. His warm breath puffed past his lips, his abs tensed, and his hand found my free one, intertwining our fingers. He pressed his palm to mine like he was sinking and I had the power to pull him back to safety. He gripped my hand and his dark gaze met mine. He communicated so much with that one look.
Emotion burned inside me. I was discovering him, but this moment meant more than that. We were healing each other in these little moments built on shared trust.
“Shit, I’m going to—” His teeth bit into his lower lip as his body went rigid. He growled my name as he came, milky-white fluid landing on his belly.
While our breathing slowed, Knox reached over the side of the bed for a box of tissues on the floor. He wiped my hand and his belly before curling his arms around me, caging me in. I melted into his embrace, loving the feel of his strong arms. He could hold me hostage in his bed anytime.
“Sorry about the mess,” he apologized, whispering near my ear.
“I didn’t mind.” Watching Knox come apart and hearing his low husky voice growl my name had been worth it.
Meeting my eyes with an intense, passion-filled stare, he leaned closer, resting his forehead against mine. “You didn’t have to do that.”
I knew that. I’d wanted to. “Was it…okay?”
“That was f**king amazing.” He pressed his lips softly to mine in a lingering kiss. “I like you in my bed,” he whispered.
His admission meant the world to me. I kissed him back, my movements slow and deliberate, like every touch mattered.
During quiet times like this, I loved how open and exposed he made himself to me. I knew it was a side of himself he didn’t share with anyone else, and that feeling was addicting.
Chapter Seventeen
McKenna
Last night had been the most incredible experience of my life. I had slept soundly in Knox’s arms all through the night. I smiled remembering our whispered conversation, and the way my heartbeat had thrummed so violently in my chest when I’d touched him. He was beautiful, and he wasn’t broken like he thought.
Then this morning was back to reality. We’d kissed good-bye early this morning. I wanted to go home to shower and change, and most importantly to arrive at our meeting separately. Even if I was breaking all the rules with Knox behind closed doors, I certainly wouldn’t broadcast it in public.
I sat at my little wooden desk at the front of the room, having arrived several minutes early, unable to stop myself from daydreaming about him. The more time I spent with Knox, the less I noticed that hollow ache inside me. I sang in the shower, hummed when I cleaned the dishes, and felt lighter just knowing he was in my life.
But then I realized something even more terrifying than going back to my pre-Knox state. I was falling in love with him. With a deliciously flawed man I was supposed to be helping heal from sexual addiction.
Casting logic aside, I knew this was a dangerous game, and if I played I’d likely be burned. But falling for him hadn’t been a choice. He wasn’t just that haunted, intense man I’d glimpsed at first. He was different around his brothers, lighter, laughed easier, smiled that big smile that showed off his dimple. I liked that version of Knox. And I liked the version of myself when I was with him. I wasn’t the broken shell of a girl I felt like most days. I felt vibrant and pretty and alive.
I wondered if my attraction to him was that our souls shared the same pain and loss. They could feel each other. When we were together I didn’t feel any pain or guilt. I wondered if it was the same for him.
When he entered the room, my heart’s rhythm changed, became erratic. His eyes met mine and while his face remained expressionless, I read the indecision, the confusion on him as clear as day. Did he feel guilty about what happened between us last night? It had been my idea to touch him, to push things further, and as much as I’d enjoyed it at the time, now I felt unsure and guilty.
Amanda patted the seat next to her, one that she’d clearly been saving just for him, and Knox crossed the room toward her.
Watching him and Amanda converse quietly, my stomach tightened and I felt hot. I was warm and flustered, and now I needed to start group.
I sat down in my seat and began the lecture I’d prepared. “Today we’ll be working on openness and honesty with each other. We’ve been meeting for several weeks now, and it’s time we progressed as a group. I’m going to ask each member of the group to share their progress, and this includes admitting to any slipups in a judgment-free, guilt-free environment. We’re all human, and it’s here that we don’t have to hide.”
I consulted the notebook on my lap to be sure I’d touched on all the key points I’d written out for myself. Knox watched me closely, his expression guarded and unsure. Guilt clawed at my stomach. I’d orchestrated today’s entire conversation to flush out what he was too afraid to tell me. I needed to know.
I asked each member of the group to share how many days since their last sexual encounter. As each person spoke and Knox’s turn got closer, my stomach coiled tight and nervous energy shot through my veins. Something was about to happen.
It was Amanda’s turn next, so I forced my eyes from Knox, trying to be a good group leader and listen as she spoke. “I’ve been struggling with a lot of change in my life lately, and I’m not proud of it, but I slipped up last weekend. It’s been one week of celibacy now for me.”