by Amy Marie
“What are you doing in my kitchen?” a feminine voice demands, causing me to freeze.
Kellen presses his forehead to mine, a soft chuckle escaping him. “Your kitchen? I’m pretty sure it’s still mine.”
“When you learn how to use it properly, we’ll talk. Until then, scoot. You two can canoodle outside.”
Canoodle?
I glance sideways to the older woman standing in the doorway with two bags of groceries. Her nearly white hair is pulled back into a severe bun, and a pair of glasses balance on her nose. She looks at me with warmth in her honey-brown eyes—a warmth that doesn’t match her tone as she says, “Did I stutter, Mr. Knight?”
He sighs, stepping out of our embrace. “You are probably the only woman on this earth who can cockblock me and chastise me in the same breath and then get away with it.”
“Language,” the woman says, setting her bags down on the counter and arching a white brow at him. “And where are your manners?”
He leans down to press a kiss to her temple. “Good morning, Bonnie.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
His lips curl, and he shakes his head before taking my hand and bringing it to his lips. “Bonnie, this is my Cyn. Cyn, this is the woman who makes sure I’m properly fed.”
Bonnie gapes at him. “That’s how you introduce the first girl I’ve ever seen in this penthouse? As a sin?” She appears ready to slap some sense into him, which he clearly finds amusing because he’s now laughing at my side.
“My name is Lucynda Ellis, but I go by Cyn,” I explain awkwardly.
The elderly woman’s shoulders relax almost instantly. “Oh, you saved him from a good wallop, dear. Thank you.”
I blink at her. Wallop?
“All right, you two, shoo. I have brunch to make.” She looks pointedly at Kellen. “One day early, I might add.”
He smiles. “Thank you, Bonnie.”
A hint of approval radiates from her brown eyes. “Go now and let me work.”
He raises his hands—one of which is still holding mine—and backs away slowly while tugging me along beside him. “Yes, ma’am. We’ll be on the balcony.”
“I’ll bring your coffee,” she calls after us. “Wait! There’s only one cup.” She leans over the breakfast counter into the dining area to catch our gazes from the living room. Kellen’s open floor plan seems to come in handy. I also like how light it is from all the windows.
“Does Miss Ellis prefer tea?” Bonnie asks.
“Cyn, please,” I correct her. “And I love coffee.”
“Don’t bother,” Kellen mutters. “I’ve been telling her to call me Kellen for five years, and she still insists on Mr. Knight.”
The twinkle in the older woman’s gaze says she enjoys that little battle with him, too. “How do you like your coffee, Miss Ellis?”
“With a little sugar, if you have it.”
“We do. I’ll bring the tray right out,” she says, already turning around.
I shake my head and glance up at Kellen. “You have a chef?” I’m not sure of the right term for her.
“She’s more than a chef. She’s my lifeline.”
“Sweet-talking gets you nowhere, Mr. Knight,” Bonnie calls back from the kitchen.
“You love me,” he returns, squeezing my hand and tugging me across the plush carpet of his entertaining area and out onto the balcony. “Bonnie manages my kitchen, as she said. She usually comes by on Sunday for brunch, then Tuesday, Thursday, and Friday to prepare easy meals for me to reheat throughout the week. I messaged her this morning to request she stop by today since you’re here.”
“Oh, you didn’t have to do that.”
“Yes, I did. She makes the best brunch.” He grins over his shoulder at the approaching female. “I’m singing your praises.”
“As you should.” She sets the tray down on a coffee table in the outdoor seating area. “Now you two relax. I’ll be back with some bread and fruit to hold you over.”
“She spoils you,” I murmur, watching her go.
Kellen doesn’t even bother to hide it. “Indeed she does. And I pay her handsomely for it.”
“Who else works for you?” I wonder out loud. “Maids? Chauffeurs?” My mother never wanted help around our home growing up, preferring to do all her own cooking and cleaning. She said it gave her a way to unwind after stressful days in the design office.
Lorraine, however, requires staff. As does Kota.
Kellen reaches out to brush my hair from my face, tucking it behind my ear. “I have a team. Security, too.” I can tell by his tone that he’s not joking. Considering Lorraine and Kota employ similar staff, I understand the need for it.
“Do you ever get lonely surrounding yourself with employees rather than family and friends?”
“Who says I don’t have family or friends, too?” he counters.
I consider what I’ve seen of his home. “You don’t have any personal photos anywhere. And all the tabloids…” I trail off, remembering how that conversation went last night. Instead, I focus on him. “You haven’t mentioned your family beyond how they created Midnight Enterprises, and while I met two of your friends last night, you didn’t seem very fond of them.”
He chuckles. “Asher and Sterling require tough love. But they’re two of my best friends.”
“Okay, so how often do you see them?”
He frowns. “Friendship isn’t defined by how often you see them.”
“True,” I agree. “I’m just… Well, I don’t know what I’m doing. I want to understand you, I guess.”
“Understand me,” he repeats, leading me to an outdoor seating area overlooking the Hudson. “I’m not very complicated. I work hard. I work a lot. I don’t date. I certainly don’t do any of this,” he says, pulling me onto a love seat beside him. “I never take anyone to galas with me either.”
That much I already knew from my research this week. He was never photographed with dates at formal events. Of course, he could just have them meet him inside, as he did with me.
Yet something tells me he’s genuine.
Because Kellen Knight doesn’t seem like the kind of male who lies.
“My father passed four years ago, leaving me the company at the ripe age of twenty-six. Fortunately, I was ready. I knew going in the toll it would take on my lifestyle, how I would be married to my work first and foremost.” He shrugs. “It’s gone about as I expected. Does it get lonely? Not really because I’m constantly surrounded by people. The harder part is learning who to trust and when.”
“What about your mom? Siblings?”
He stretches out his arm behind me along the couch and smirks down at me. “You mean the tabloids didn’t provide those details?”
“Honestly, I didn’t dig very deep.”
“Mmm,” he hums. “Well, if you had, you’d see I have a younger sister by two years. She runs the Community Relations team for KK Midnight Enterprises. I offered to share the mantle with her, but she prefers giving back and working with public affairs. It helps lessen my social schedule and mandatory appearances. However, sometimes my attendance is still required. Like last night.”
He stares over the balcony at the sun glistening across the water and smiles.
“And my mom lives up in Connecticut at our family estate. She would like you.”
I cant my head. “Yeah? Why’s that?”
“Because you’re too good for me,” he murmurs.
I scoff. “Yeah, I don’t know about that.”
“You’re not like the society brats or the chicks only after my money and status. You’re just… you.”
I’m not sure if that’s a compliment or not, but I think it is. “How do you know I’m not after your money? Maybe I miss being an heiress.”
He snorts and leans forward to pick up his coffee mug to take a sip before setting it back down. “I’ve been around enough gold diggers to know the signs.”
“Maybe I hide it better than they do,” I re
ply, copying his actions and retrieving my own cup. Bonnie put a sugar cube on the side with a stirring spoon. The little gesture makes me smile.
“That, right there, is how I know,” he says, pointing to my face.
“What?” I plop the cube into the simmering liquid and begin to stir. “The fact that I like sugar in my coffee?”
“The fact that you’re thankful for Bonnie providing you with a sugar cube,” he counters, nodding to my hand. “Most women I know would complain that she didn’t stir it in for them, likely pitching a fit to belittle my chef just to prove themselves superior.”
My lips twist to the side. He isn’t wrong. I’ve seen Kota and Lorraine make countless examples of hard workers, including waitresses, hostesses, and even shop owners. It was why I felt so strongly last night about Kellen’s actions at the restaurant.
“I’ve never understood that behavior,” I admit softly, sipping my coffee. “Being more fortunate than others doesn’t make anyone better or worse. My father used to say that those blessed with wealth have a responsibility to give back.” I swallow, my gaze dropping to the interior of my cup. “That was before he met Lorraine. Many of his outlooks changed after that point.”
Kellen moves his arm from the couch to my shoulders, pulling me closer. “In what way?”
“In every way,” I whisper. With a sigh, I push the darker thoughts away and force a smile. “It’s not important. Dwelling in the past only distorts the future, and I prefer to move forward. Which reminds me—you have something I want.”
He waggles his brows. “I have a lot of things you want.”
I dig my elbow into his ribs, laughing. “My sketchbook, Mr. Knight. I want it back.”
“Of course, Miss Ellis. I’ll bring it to dinner tonight.” He retrieves his mug, winking at me.
“Dinner?” I repeat, arching a brow. “Since when are we going to dinner?”
“Oh, I’m so glad you asked,” he says, his dimples flashing. “I’ll pick you up at seven. This time, bring an overnight bag.”
“Wait—”
“Here are some snacks,” Bonnie announces, dropping off another tray of fresh fruit and various pastries. “Be back with the main course shortly.”
She disappears almost as quickly as she entered, leaving me confused for a brief moment before I recall the conversation at hand. “Where are we going?”
“It’s a surprise,” he replies, picking up a cinnamon roll and breaking off a piece. “Now open.” He presses the sweet to my lips.
I only obey his command because I have words to say, but he slips the pastry into my mouth and flavor explodes on my tongue. “Oh my God.”
“I told you she’s brilliant.” Kellen takes a bite for himself and relaxes beside me.
This man is an enigma.
I should tell him I don’t want to go out with him later, but it would be a lie. Because I do want to see him again. I want to know him. Really see the Kellen beneath the suits, and not just the rock-hard abs. Although, I don’t mind those, even if they are a bit distracting.
Like that trail of hair disappearing into his sweats.
I want to lick him there, follow the line down and—
“You look positively famished, Cyn. Is there something else you want in your mouth? Because I’ll happily oblige.”
My cheeks heat as I meet his knowing stare. “You tasted me; now I want to taste you.”
His amusement dissipates beneath a much hotter look. “Any other girl, and I would call that a line to try to win me over. But not you.” He leans forward, his body caging me against the sofa as he takes the mug from my hand to place on the side table. “You mean that.”
“I prefer honesty over dancing around the truth.”
“I know. It’s one of the traits I admire about you.” His mouth brushes mine. Slowly. Carefully. Warmly. “Mmm, you do taste delicious, Miss Ellis.”
My tongue skates along his bottom lip. “As do you, Mr. Knight.”
“Fuck, you’re making this hard.”
“That’s the idea.” I boldly press my palm to his thigh, inching upward.
He grasps my wrist, steadying me. “Not yet,” he whispers. “I want to do this right.”
“And what’s right?” The words are a breath against his mouth.
“Dinner tonight.” I can hear the strain in his voice. I should take pity on him, allow him to do this the way he seems to feel is appropriate. But I’m not a girl who needs to be coddled. I can handle him, and I want to prove it.
“That’s not going to work for me, Mr. Knight,” I tell him as I straddle his thighs and wrap my arms around his neck. “I don’t need romance or expensive dinners or to pack bags. Whatever this is, it’s burning hot enough without all the extravagance.”
I’ve never experienced a one-night stand. Nor have I ever desired sex this soon after knowing a man. But Kellen Knight has redefined my understanding of intimacy. He sets me on fire like no one I’ve ever met, and if he doesn’t cool me off soon, I’m going to blow.
“You’re killing me, Cyn.”
“Likewise, Knight.” I nibble his lip. “Why are we fighting this? Maybe this is right. Maybe we need to embrace it.”
“Fuck.” I feel his capitulation in the way his arms wrap around me, tugging me closer rather than pushing me away. And as his mouth settles over mine in a claiming manner, I know I’ve won.
Chapter 13
Kellen
How can I deny logic like that? Especially when it’s coming from those lips.
The ones I’ve been fantasizing about having wrapped around my dick since the first day we met.
But that was then, and this is now. A lot has changed in the few days we’ve known each other. Not only has this woman invaded my head, but she’s also gotten under my skin. I don’t want her on her knees out of obligation for last night, and I don’t want a quick fuck just to calm this raging fire between us.
I’ve never offered a woman anything other than one night.
But something about Lucynda Ellis makes me want to offer her the world and then protect her from it.
“Cyn…” I mumble against her mouth, trying one last time to stop the inevitable and uphold my promise to her from last night.
She’s different. Respect her.
“Don’t.” She pulls back and presses her finger against my lips. “Don’t try the white knight act now, Kellen. It doesn’t suit you.” A flirty smile tugs at the corner of her mouth as she traces the length of my throat and slowly blazes a hot trail down my chest. “I’m not made of glass. Besides, you said yourself that you have things I want, Mr. Knight. Are you going to give them to me, or are you going to make me beg?”
I close my eyes and groan as her hand feathers across my abs and boldly dips inside the waistband of my sweatpants. It takes all my willpower not to move the moment she runs her fingers down the length of my already hard cock and gently cups my balls in her small hand.
She is different.
I do respect her.
But I also respect the hell out of what she’s doing right now, and only a complete fucking moron would put an end to it.
I’m still holding her in my arms when she kisses me again and returns her attention back to my cock, freeing it from the confines of my sweatpants. Breaking our kiss, she trails her lips down my neck, her warm breath fanning over my skin. I shouldn’t smile, but I can’t help it.
I know what she’s doing, and I wait for it.
Her lips slide lower.
Wait.
Lower.
Wait.
A sharp gasp precedes a shaky exhale.
I told Cyn all the rumors she’s read about me online are complete bullshit. I should’ve said most of the rumors. One is actually very accurate.
Like Sterling said, seven hundred and fifty-eight thousand Twitter fans can’t be wrong.
I run my fingers through her hair, still tangled from sleep. “Cyn, you don’t have to—”
“I want to.” She shakes her
head, shifting and lowering herself onto her knees between my legs. Glancing up at me through those long, light eyelashes, she licks her lips, letting her voice drop to a sultry, breathy tone. “Kellen, I really want this. I want you.”
Out of nowhere, that damn angel climbs up on my shoulder again and peers down at the scene before him. Sighing, he shakes his head in disapproval. On the terrace, Kellen? Really? Have you no shame?
I freeze, blinking down at the woman kneeling before me waiting for a signal.
Of course he has no shame. As if summoned by my indecision, the devil slams his pitchfork into my shoulder, grinning, and leans into it. He’s Kellen fucking Knight. Have you forgotten the time a Victoria’s Secret model sucked him dry at the Met Gala?
How could I forget? The angel groans. He trended on Twitter for almost seventy-two hours.
The devil winks. I called that girl Hoover.
What about Bonnie? The angel glances nervously over his shoulder at the closed opaque glass doors. She’s like a mother to him. What if she walks out and sees this debauchery?
I’m waiting for the answer because, to be honest, I forgot all about Bonnie. However, the devil dislodges his pitchfork and throws it like a javelin, knocking the angel off his perch in one shot.
That guy talks too much, he says with a lazy grin. Don’t worry about your housekeeper. A gorgeous girl just dropped to her knees and begged to suck your dick. Now, are you gonna man up or keep talking to yourself?
“Kellen?”
I pull myself out of my own head and look down to see my obsession staring up at me with lust in her innocent eyes. “You want me, Cyn?”
“Yes,” she breathes, shakily. “More than anything.”
“Show me,” I command in a husky tone, shifting forward on the couch and widening my legs. Cyn shivers, her bright blue eyes darkening. I’m pushing her out of her comfort zone, and part of me feels guilty for letting my needs take over, while the other part, well, it’s five seconds away from pinning her to the floor and fucking whatever part of her I want.
