My Number One: Kasha & Knox (7 page)

I ducked backwards, taking two steps away. I marked what I might’ve missed the last time we were together, and slowly paced around her sweetness. My hands touched, slapped and palmed as I saw fit along the journey.

“That man of yours—”

“Ex-man,” Erika corrected, while maintaining her stint on the imaginary chopping block.

“Whatever you choose to call it. Back to my story, my observation. On that night, you tried to convince me of how innocent you were, much like how you’re talking about not entertaining in your home.”

“Knox,” Erika began, bending low to recover the dress I’d finally inched to the hardwood floor.

“Don’t get shy now, sexy. Stand back up, just the way you were,” I commanded.

She hesitated for about a second until she was able to straighten up. She proceeded to plead her case, “Never said I was innocent.” Her eyelashes fluttered quicker than what would be considered as reasonably normal.

“Yeah, you never used the word, but you’re trying to convince me of your virtue. Can I be honest with you?” I watched as her head dipped. Thick strands of hair cascaded down. I would never shame her, so I captured her chin. “It’s your body. As long as you take care of yourself, don’t feel compelled to justify what you desire. You wanna give up your sweetness?” I ran my hand down below, using my fingers to part those lips and slide inward. I massaged the flesh, round and round. Yet my fingers only teased her walls, never once breaking through to get fully moistened. “Do you want to give up your body?”

“Ahhh!” Erika cried out. Her legs nearly collapsed as she pumped her head up and down.

“Don’t nod, respond. Let me hear you,” I ordered.

“Y-y-yes,” she faded out, barely able to complete the sentence. It wasn’t that her strength suddenly diminished, no. I’m a semi-genius, a mastermind with the female anatomy. As she peaked, I slipped a finger inside. I allowed my instincts to guide me to her spot. Erika’s earth-shattering
yesss
was in fact a release.

She fell apart at the seams, collapsing even before the first round of juices stopped squirting. But I was there to rescue her. I picked up her weary, still-naked body. She hugged the dress to her midsection. Her fingers contracted, showing her veins. Now possessing both the woman and her clothing, I stomped through the house. Once upstairs, Erika pointed to her room. I entered and placed her on the bed with the slutty red dress.

“I need a shower. Been a long day.” Yeah, I hadn’t washed off the stench from the fight or jail.

Erika pouted, and then nibbled on her bottom lip.

Kasha’s lips. Damn, how could something within reach be so difficult?

“Knox, I need you.”

I’m thinking about another girl that doesn’t give a shit about me. If, now that’s a big damn if, Kasha wanted me, she would’ve made it known.

“Are you in a hurry? Seriously,” I tease because if I don’t force myself to move on, I’ll end up stressing over one of the most amazing girls I might never have—Kasha.

When Erika didn’t answer, I stripped and searched out the bathroom. I was only gone for about five minutes when the shower curtain flipped open. She stepped in without saying a word. I made room. She eased onto her knees one at a time. Her hands lay flat on my chest and slid lower as she captured my growing erection between wide lips. Her fingers dug into my sides, especially when she guided my thrusts inside her mouth. The deeper she took me in, the tighter her claws.

I leaned my upper body to the tiled walls. It was a tight enough space to relax this way, though she kept my lower body active. My hands went to the shower to turn it off. Erika was determined to drain the life out of me, so even with the water probably stifling her, she wouldn’t let up. What man couldn’t get used to this type of treatment on a regular basis? Not necessarily from Erika, but daily. For her part, she’d done an excellent job of pleading her case and trying to land a major spot in my life.

~

~

I slowly lifted my eye and adjusted my breathing. For a second, I needed to rethink and get in touch with my surroundings. The room was filled with a lighter scent and delicate fragrance.

Erika
. . .
Erika Frickin’ Alexander.

She was one bad chick, and in a good way too. While I lay diagonally on the black sheets of her king sized bed, I turned my head from one side to the next. As an afterthought, I peeped down below. Erika’s hair peered out, scattered and in complete disarray like she’d been handed something fierce the entire night. My flesh flexed at the mere thought of what took place.

“Are you ready?” her muffled voice trailed from beneath the sheets.

“Damn, it’s like that?” I didn’t mind, though a break was needed. We’d carried on all night and into the early morning hours. “It’s five-fifteen.”

“No work today. I took a sick day,” she proudly replied as her head disappeared under the sheet. “I called in as soon as I got off the phone with you yesterday.”

“You’re a bad bitch,” I offered as a compliment. I hoped she didn’t mind the name, but that’s how I felt. This was fun, and those words reflected how I saw this type of fun.
But if it was Kasha, would it be the same?

“Speaking of phone, I need mine.” How could I convince myself this had nothing to do with her? Every pause, every thought wouldn’t separate itself from her.

“What, you have to check in with your girl?” Erika’s words brought me away from a journey I needed to avoid. She eased up to lie against the side of my chest.

“No girl,” I began. But after my words appeared to linger unclaimed, I added, “Not interested in a relationship.”

“Me neither,” Erika tried to convince me and save face. She quickly gave me her back. But the shakiness in her words did little to make me believe that I hadn’t just hurt her feelings. Sure I enjoyed her, but this was
only
sex. Nothing more. Incredible sex, though nothing to build a relationship on.

Would I revisit?

Hell yeah!

That’s all I could promise.

“My car needs work. You remember the guy you saw me with yesterday?”

“Yeah.”

“He’s having some mechanic do a rush job on the glass. Tell you what, let me check things, then I’ll give you breakfast,” I promised, then stood up and smacked her bare ass.

She yelped, then mumbled.

The phone was buried underneath my clothes and a boatload of decorative pillows. The screen lit up with a single text and a single missed call. Both from Rory. My battery flashed a warning at 5 percent.

“You have an iPhone?”

“Plug it in over here.” She directed me to a nearby cord that ran across an end table.

The text message read:

Knox

I hated when people did that. There was no need to wait for a reply, it’s a text! Nonetheless, I deleted the text and listened to the voicemail:

“You’re gonna be pissed . . .”

I grabbed my pants and yanked them up in one quick move. No further details in the bullshit voicemail, and forget about the text.

“I gotta go. I didn’t bring my car. Shit, my ride. Can you at least get me to the nearest subway or a cab?” I set down the phone to allow a bit more charging, entered the bathroom and got ready to leave out five minutes later. The phone got up to 10 percent, which had to do. Before I unplugged, I tried Rory’s line. No surprise, it went straight to voicemail.

“Shit!”

I turned to see Erika still spread naked as before. “What the fuck? Can I get a ride?” Her pupils grew wide and glassed over. Her mouth turned downward. “Don’t get caught up in your feelings, Erika. I’ll be back.” Though she didn’t do backflips or anything like that, she perked up a little.

She drove me to a reasonable location in order to catch a cab. It was early and cold, and I was beyond annoyed.

My phone buzzed about a mile and a half away from the hotel. “Yeah?”

“Knox, what the hell?” a nasally male voice sped off on the line. “It’s Bash.”

“Bash, whose phone is this?”

“One of the guys.”

“Where’s Rory?”

“Dude, how the hell am I supposed to know?” Bash’s voice deepened.

“Why the hell are you calling me then?” Annoyed wasn’t the right world. Neither was pissed. This was a frickin’ waste of my time. That, along with the fact that my cell was setting up to go dead again made me edgy. Rather than have him push me further into insanity, I flicked the line off. I shoved the driver more than the rate and exited onto the sidewalk.

Standing at the front of the building I spotted Rory in a heated conversation with one of the guards. I shifted to a steady pace since I’d literally started forming fists at my side. This was the type of overly dramatic crap I couldn’t deal with. Seriously, if there was an issue, then why in the hell was he out here like this?

He must’ve sensed me right before I reached him. “Your phone was—”

“Don’t start!” I drew the attention of everyone within earshot. I dipped my voice after hearing gasps. “You and those damn messages. If your ass is gonna send a text, do it right. If you’re gonna leave a message, get it right.”

“Look man, I need another phone. You have no idea what I went through last night.”

“So what am I supposed to be pissed about?”

~

If I knew my weekend might’ve blown out of control like this, I would’ve kept my ass in Delaware. Perhaps the only good things about coming to the city were the drinks and the pre-fight event. Everything blew up in my face, and now this.

My poor ride had not only been smashed up from the beating, but also had skid marks all across the bodywork. To top it off, the hood had been caved in as well.

“I’m gonna wake up in Delaware any minute now, right?” I asked.

Rory leaned on the hood of the car like the damn thing could take the abuse. I was stunned because how was it possible for my Camaro to have been out in the first place, since it should’ve been getting worked on?

“I’ve never seen anything like this,” Rory mouthed.

“Yes, you have,” I reminded him. We’d seen this and worse. The only difference was that it wasn’t our property at the time, and we didn’t stand to lose out in quite the same way.

“Was he drunk? This dude Rhys, where is he?” I scanned the pound. Other than Rory, the worker and maybe two other people, I didn’t see the bastard.

“He got out before it spun out of control.” Rory stretched to the other side. He shook the beaten down metal with ease. “If he didn’t push out this chick and get himself out of there, they would’ve been buried.”

“You know what, at the risk of sounding like a dick, what the hell was he doing with my ride?”

Rory stood still. His temples pulsed. “I’ll be in the cab. Meter’s running.” He started walking off, but stopped after reaching only a few feet. “You’ve got every right to be pissed over the damn car, but we’re talking about a life. I get that he might’ve done something wrong, but don’t discount someone’s life that way.” He moved out from the lot.

I waited. His words permeated. I’ll admit he had a point, but I still had a right to be angry. I needed someone to understand my frustrations without me getting condemned. One person always made me feel like so much more.

“Kash.”

“Hey!” That voice, the one capable of changing all things crappy to hope.

“I needed you.”

“Poor baby.” She giggled out the words. Kasha knew how much he despised those nicknames, but coming from her I couldn’t be upset.

“My Camaro is ruined.”

“No way, Knox! What happened? Are you alright?” Her words became shaky. I damn near saw the flooded look of concern in her eyes, and sensed her bottom lip being sucked into her mouth. “I don’t know what I’d do if anything happened to you.”

“I-I’m okay,” I tried to sound convincing. Still taking in the sorry-ass remains of my ride, I didn’t feel okay.

“So tell me what happened. I don’t think my heart can handle the suspense.”

Where am I supposed to start?

Just then the other line beeped. It was Erika.

“Kash, I gotta take this call.”

“What? What’s going on?”

“I’ll explain. Besides, my phone is gonna die any second now.”

The break would give me an opportunity to think up a reason for all this. Sure, I could’ve stayed on the phone with Kasha, but my story would’ve been made up. Moreover, even in our friendship, our connection was strong enough to let her sense bullshit.

“Why’d you call me now, then?”

“Sorry, Kash, I gotta go.”

“Then don’t bother calling me back.” She hung up.

I didn’t reach out to Erika right away, since the other line had stopped and my phone died. We met up with the workers and Bash, and I waited about two hours before redialing. By then I was set with a charged cell.

“Oh my gosh, Knox!” Erika shrieked into the phone. “He’s here.”

Rory hadn’t spoken to me more than to grunt. Bash was his usual oddball self and I hadn’t had any real sleep in more than a day. I was overwhelmed, over the nonsense, and ready to leave out of the city. Instead of carrying on the conversation with Erika in front of the guys, since I was in earshot, I hurried out of the abandoned house.

“Who?”

“Tony!” She’s frantic. Her cries grab and shake me. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Where is he?”

“Downstairs, searching for you.”

“Me? What the hell kinda relationship do you have with this guy?”

“You don’t understand. I’ve never been scared of him. He hasn’t put his hands on me, ever. And no, I’m not one of those women that believe in taking a beating and keeping quiet about it. Not into abuse!”

“Did you call the police?” My blood boiled for the bastard I was ready to pulverize all over again.

“Knox, he tried to choke me. Please, I don’t need the police, I need you . . .”

“You broke my heart!” I hear Tony’s husky cry in the background, sounding like a grown-ass baby.

“We’re not together anymore.”

“But we were, before you screwed up my world. Eight years, Erika. How do you walk away from eight years?”

Thud! Thud!

“Hello?” I inquired. Erika wasn’t on the line. I heard wrestling, even muffled pleas for help. “Erika?”

Nothing.

It wasn’t enough that this fool had gotten his ass kicked, he was out to hurt her.

I started calling 9-1-1, but Erika’s number popped up.

“Please help me, Knox,” I heard before it got to my ears.

“I’ll call the police. It’ll take longer for me—”

“No . . . No! I-I knocked him out.” Between the cries and uncontrollable breathing, she managed to continue, “I need you, Knox. No police.”

~