Mr. Knight/A Jordan Knight Fanfic ✔️

4

4. antithesis

Not until I'm getting ready for bed do I remember Knight's request for my manuscript. It's nearing eleven o'clock but figuring it's better sent late than never, I draw my laptop onto the bed and open my email. In addition to the expected spam, I see a message from an unfamiliar, non-university address.

Unfamiliar, yes, but not unrecognizable: j.knight. The subject line reads, Don't be a coward, and when I open it, there's no other content.

"I guess the message is clear enough," I mutter, and hurriedly attach my manuscript and send it.

Seconds later, a chat box pops up in the corner of the screen.

j.Knight: About damned time.

darcy_d: You didn't specify when I had to send it, just that you wanted it tonight.

j.knight: Is your sass a defense mechanism for looking like an underaged forest nymph?

My mouth drops open.

darcy_d: Are you drunk?

j.knight: Possibly. Did you buy a coat?

My nipples tingle in response. "Don't do it, don't do it," I tell myself, even as my fingers fly over the keyboard and like an automaton, I hit Send.

Frozen, my heart pounding, I wait. The cursor blinks at me like an oracle of judgement, then a tiny chime sounds. My eyes snap to his reply.

j.knight: I wouldn't have to think about your breasts if they were where they should be.

I frown in confusion.

Another chime.

j.Knight: Several places come to mind. In my mouth. Smashed on my chest. Or bouncing in my face.

"Holy shit," I whisper, as heat funnels straight to my core.

At a soft knock on my bedroom door, I slam my laptop shut. "Come in, Claire," I call hoarsely.

She pops her head inside the room. "I saw your light—Why is your face red?"

"I was, uh, rubbing it."

Her eyes narrow, flickering to the laptop beside me. "I thought I heard you talking. Were you Skyping your mom?"

"Nope, just muttering to myself."

She doesn't look convinced, but after a moment gives me a tired smile. "Okay, goodnight. See you in the morning."

"Yep, 'night."

The door closes and I open the laptop warily. There's a new message.

j.knight: I've scared you off, haven't I?

Somewhere in my rational mind, I know this is wrong. So risky. But the long-dormant, reckless half of me is wide awake and in control. I haven't felt this way in years. Wanton. Desirous. It's a gift I won't—can't—give back.

darcy_d: No. I was merely admiring the assets in question.

j.knight: Isn't that a pretty picture. Tell me, Ms. Davis, are your nipples as I imagine them? Tight, rosy little buds?

My hips twitch, driving my pulsing center against the bed. With a shaking hand, I pull up my t-shirt to expose my breasts. Feeling possessed, I pinch one of the aching peaks and swallow a moan.