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Ren gave her a brief rundown of Knox’s history, including the fact that he hadn’t had any criminal record prior to his embezzlement conviction. No violence in his past at all. Which, she already knew. But it was always nice to confirm that the man she was sharing a bed with wasn’t a serial killer.
Ren also told her where Knox had gone to college, who he’d dated and for how long, and a slew of other personal facts she had no idea how he’d obtained. When he’d finished his recitation, he asked, “Why didn’t you ditch him when you got out of town?”
Great question. She’d been asking herself that for a while now. “I don’t know yet. There’s something there, though.”
“A pretty face and tight abs?”
She snorted. “There’s that. But there’s more to him than meets the eye. I’m going to hang around for a bit and see what happens next. He’s…interesting.”
There was a loaded pause on Ren’s end. Eventually, he said, “Just be careful.”
She knew he wasn’t referring to her physical safety. He wanted her to be careful with her emotions. Being interested in a mark was atypical for her, and Ren knew her well enough to realize she was already in danger of getting too close.
“Don’t worry about me,” she said. “I’ve got it under control.”
But as Ren helped her make arrangements to meet with a fence who could move the stolen gems for her and her mind kept wandering back to Knox in all his shirtless glory, she could only hope she wasn’t lying to Ren—and to herself—about the state of her self-control.
CHAPTER 8
Knox hadn’t had this many raunchy sex dreams since he’d been a horny fifteen-year-old.
One after another, sexual scenarios bombarded his REM sleep. Over the course of the night in his dreams, he’d fucked Tenley on or against every flat surface in their suite. Twice with her bent over the bed and his hand around her throat, three times in the shower, and once with her spread out on their dinner table.
If all that had happened in real life, he’d need a shot of B12 and a fuckton of electrolytes to refuel. Maybe some Viagra if she wanted to go again.
And Dream Tenley always wanted to go again.
Which was probably why Knox was fighting so hard to stay asleep. IRL Tenley scared the crap out of him. And he hadn’t had a night’s sleep this good since he was a kid.
The pillow he had his face buried in was the softest he’d ever had, and it smelled heavenly. Like…tanning lotion and margaritas, maybe? Knox nuzzled deeper into the pillow and breathed deep. And the way his mom was running her fingers through his hair, just like she’d done when he was a little boy, was so soothing.
It was the thoughts of his mom that ultimately yanked him out of Dreamland permanently. She’d been dead since he was ten, so there was no way she was here, running her fingers through his hair. And the pillow hadn’t smelled like a Hawaiian vacation when he went to bed. So, that could only mean…
Knox’s eyes snapped open and he groaned. Yep. He had his head in Tenley’s lap with his arms wrapped around her legs like she was his own personal body pillow, and she was sifting her fingers gently through his hair.
The fingers on her uncuffed hand.
He came up off the bed faster than he’d ever moved in his life and glared down at her. She looked so calm and refreshed, laying there on his side of the bed with her back against the headboard and her legs crossed at the ankle, holding a Starbucks cup in the hand that hadn’t been playing with his hair.
Tenley was dressed, too. Thank God. Although, the yoga pants and tank top she was wearing weren’t covering much more than the torturously sexy sleep set she’d been wearing the night before.
“How long have I been out?” he asked, shocked at how hoarse his voice was.
She took a sip of her coffee before answering, “At least twelve hours.”
And the even more pressing question… “How the fuck did you get out of that cuff?”
Her smirk was all kinds of annoying. “You really thought that thing would hold me? Please. It was a standard Smith & Wesson Model 300. I could’ve picked that lock when I was in kindergarten. If you want to make it harder on me next time, use zip ties.”
Her use of the word “harder” snagged his dick’s full attention. But he willed it down with thoughts of how she could’ve stolen his organs while he blissfully dreamed of fucking her. He shoved a hand through his hair. “Were you up all night or something?”
“No. It took me about five minutes to pick the lock on the cuffs. I slept for a few hours. Then I got up, showered, got dressed, went out for coffee, met with my fence to broker the sale of some stolen diamonds, then came back here to find you still snoring, lazybones.”
He decided not to get hung up on the part about the fence and the stolen diamonds. Maybe he could claim plausible deniability if he ever got dragged into court for something she did. So, that only left one truly pressing question. “And why were you…”
Tenley raised a brow at him. “In bed with you? I sat down to take my shoes off and you grabbed me. Every time I tried to get up, you growled and held me tighter.” She shrugged. “I didn’t want to wake you up. You seemed like you needed the rest.”
There was a hint of sympathy—or pity—in her voice that he didn’t care for at all. Mostly because she was right. He hadn’t slept for more than an hour at a time during his entire prison stint. His body had obviously recognized the constant danger it was in and refused to not be alert for any longer than that. But here, safe in a hotel room, he’d hit the pillow and promptly dropped into a coma.
