“You can’t cushion me from the entire world, Knight.”

“I can try.”

My stomach dropped.

“I’ll take measures,” he went on like he didn’t just rock my world. “You feel safer here, we do your bed for a while. Go back to mine this weekend when the code’s changed. Yeah?”

“Okay, honey,” I agreed quietly.

“Now you got an hour to sleep. You gonna be able to do that?”

“Yeah.”

“Then do it.”

I smiled against his shoulder.

Then I whispered, “Okay.”

Knight’s arm gave me a squeeze.

I felt my belly warm, that tingle gliding up and down my spine, over my scalp, all along my skin until it felt like it was going to consume me.

And I didn’t mind.

Not even a little bit.

It felt great.

Chapter Eleven

The Real You

“Tight, Anya.”

After his soft words sounded against the skin of my neck, my limbs around Knight squeezed and I stared at the ceiling of his bedroom, nose stinging, heart beating hard.

It was Sunday morning and Knight just made love to me.

Made.

Love.

To.

Me.

Not bossy, not dirty, not an exercise in control. I got to touch, taste, lick, do what I wanted to do and so did he (as usual). It was slow, lazy, gentle.

And beautiful.

Honestly, I didn’t know he had that in him. He told me he could do normal, gentle. But after a week of what we’d had, I didn’t really think about it. I expected since I was giving it to him the way he liked, he’d take advantage of it.

And he did.

But he woke up in a different mood that morning and gave it to me sweet, letting me give it back. I loved it and from what I could tell, he did too.

This meant I had it all from Knight, at least in bed. Scary, crazy, hot. Adventurous. Consuming. Excruciating. Exciting. Unexpected. Slow. Lazy. Gentle. Sweet.

Never in my life, any aspect of it, had I had it all or even expected to.

Now, I did and to say it moved me was an understatement.

Knight quit nuzzling my neck with his nose and lips and his head came up.

My eyes went to his.

His looked into mine a quarter of a second and he whispered, “Baby, what?”

“You want a surprise?” I whispered back, not about to tell him what. Not then. Maybe later.

Hopefully it would be later after it stayed good in a way I knew it always would be.

He held my eyes for long moments and I knew he did it coming to a decision.

Then he came to it.

“Yeah,” he answered, thankfully and it had to be said thoughtfully letting it slide.

“I called my Sunday clients, all of them. Moved them. Now my Sundays are free.”

His eyes went hooded and, seriously, that was a good look.

“So you’re mine all day,” he said softly.

“Every Sunday,” I replied just as softly.

One side of his lips curved up and he kept talking softly when he said, “Thank you, baby.”

He wanted that. Me. All day Sunday.

God.

“You’re welcome, honey.”

His hand came up and his fingertips trailed along the apple of my cheek as he muttered, “Fuck, my baby’s sweet.”

So was my Daddy.

“I have another surprise,” I announced and his eyes went from his fingers now at my temple to mine.

“Yeah?”

“Anya Gage’s World Famous Toasted Almond Pancakes with Almond Infused Maple Syrup. I brought all the stuff over last night.”

That got me a full grin. “World famous?”

I grinned back. “Totally.”

His eyes went to my mouth, his pupils dilated then they came back to mine.

“My shirt, no underwear while you make them.”

Back to bossy.

My womb convulsed.

“Okay, Daddy,” I whispered and his h*ps between mine pressed in.

“Fuck, how did this happen?” he muttered like he was talking to himself, his eyes moving over my face.

“What?”

He looked back into my eyes. “You’re perfect, baby.”

I blinked.

Then I whispered, “Knight –”

“No, Anya, no f**ked up shit outta that sweet mouth. I’m not gonna listen to it and I’ll work my balls off, I don’t care if it takes decades, to make you stop even thinkin’ it. Instead, you gotta know that every second I spend with you it becomes more and more clear you were made for me. A gift I don’t deserve, didn’t earn but I’m not giving it back.”

My nose started stinging again and I demanded quietly, “Stop it.”

“Not gonna do that, Anya. Not ever. Not until you get it, baby.”

“Girls, we’re like this,” I explained quickly in an effort to move us off this topic. “Except for girls like Sandrine who, from her Dad on up, had men spoiling her rotten and convincing her she’s precious, which, as you know, causes its own issues, we spend hours convincing ourselves we’re faulty. Even Vivica, who’s totally awesome and mostly knows that, she’s also totally ambitious and driven to be perfect and create the perfect life. You just have to roll with it.”

“Bullshit,” he replied instantly and I blinked.

“Pardon?”

“Sandrine’s Dad knew what he was doin’. It’s Sandrine now who’s f**king up. You got a girl who’s worth it, you’re her Dad or you’re her Daddy, you spoil her rotten. You let her know she’s precious, not convince her of that shit, because it’s not about convincing. It’s about understanding it’s just f**kin’ true.”

Now I was blinking for a different reason. Rapidly.

“Seriously, Knight, stop it,” I whispered.

“Deep breathe. Control those tears. And I’ll let it go after I say this. We haven’t had the time to get into what Nick did to you and how you believed it so easily. Your aunt, she was negligent, which has the power to create wounds, and on top of that she was a cunt, which scores those wounds deep. You’re right, everyone should work to make a better life for themselves however they gotta do it. But that doesn’t mean they shouldn’t hope and expect good things to come their way. Random and unexpected. Regularly or infrequently. It doesn’t matter, good things happen just like bad. And it’s f**ked up not to think you’ll get your share of those, babe. And even more f**ked up that, when you do, you feel you don’t deserve them or they’re jacked in some way that reflects on you. Nick is an ass**le but that doesn’t mean he isn’t smart. The way he’s smart is he’s observant. He notices shit. It’s a trait that could be put to good use and sometimes, he’s in the mood, he can use it that way. He’s also got a deep, f**kin’ mean streak and that’s what he works at. He saw you, he read you, he was pissed you were walkin’ to him from my bed when he wants you in his and he cut you, went straight in for the kill usin’ exactly what he knew would make you bleed. What you gotta get is, that’s his shit. You gotta turn that shit back on him and see he’s actin’ on spite. And he’s doin’ it because he wants the gift of you, cannot have it and it pisses him off. So what he did was a jacked up, nasty, twisted compliment. And you should have just smiled to yourself, crawled in my bed and waited for me to come home and show you the real you.”