“Against the window,” I pant into his mouth. “Right f*****g now.”
He doesn’t speak. He just growls and walks me backward until the icy glass kisses my shoulder blades.
An hour ago we were teasing, flirting, pretending we weren’t dying for this. Now there’s no pretending left.
Knox twists me around so I’m facing the dark, snow-drenched mountains, the moon painting everything silver.
Our reflection stares back: me in nothing but his shirt, n*****s already pebbled and pushing against the thin fabric, him looming behind me like a Goddessdamn predator.
His chest is heaving, his jaw tight, his eyes black with want. He looks like he wants to devour me whole and I want to let him.
“That little slap you gave Gale,” he rasps against my ear, breath hot, voice filthy, one hand sliding up my stom
