Ruthless knight

Cole

There’s an adorable scowl on her face as she makes her way over to me. She’s all of five feet tall, but her steps eat up the patio between us in no time.

As if she can’t wait to tell me off. 

I’d be lying if I said I didn’t thoroughly enjoy getting her all frustrated. 

However, I can’t do that tonight, because something tells me Sawyer isn’t going to agree to be my girlfriend so easily. 

Not after the way I hurt and embarrassed her. 

Which means I have to pull out all the stops. 

Flirt with and seduce her until she can’t say no. 

Fortunately, I’m ahead of the game because I know she’s attracted to me. 

My dick stirs to life as I take in her purple cardigan straining across her big tits and the matching headband in her long dark hair. 

She’s so i

A good guy wouldn’t bet on a girl’s virginity just because his reputation and pride are at stake. 

A good guy would put an end to this and tell Cortland to go fuck himself. 

But I’m not a good guy. Far from it. 

The thought of popping Little Miss Bible Thumper’s cherry and making her come all over my cock—right before I rub Cortland’s face in it—is far too gratifying to ignore. 

“What do you want, Covington?” 

She’s tapping her foot like she’s impatient. Has better places to be. 

We both know that’s not the case. 

Or is it? I’m almost positive Bianca’s lying about Sawyer messing around with her boss, but on the off chance it’s true, it’s going to pose a big problem for me. 

But I can’t think about that right now. I have more important things to worry about. 

Turning on the charm, I flash her a smile. “To tell you how beautiful you look tonight.” 

Those big brown eyes study me like I’m bacteria under a microscope for several seconds before she bats her eyelashes. 

“Really?” 

Shit. This is going to be easier than I thought. 

Nodding, I move to the other side of the tub so I can be closer to her. 

“That sweater really brings out your…” Pausing, I peruse her curves from head to toe before lingering on those juicy tits. Christ. It’s like they’re begging to be in my mouth. “Ti—eyes,” I finish, catching myself in the nick of time. 

I’m not sure what to make of the expression on her face. For a moment, I think she’s going to punch me, but to my surprise, she blushes. 

 “You’re so sweet.” Biting her lip, she whispers, “But why are you suddenly being so nice? I thought you hated me?” 

“I don’t hate you.” 

There have been times where her holier than thou attitude and ability to see right through me have a

On the contrary. She amuses me and I relish getting under her skin. 

Plus, the look of condemnation she gives me whenever I go too far never fails to make my dick hard. 

She might act like she’s repulsed, but deep down, I know she’s curious. 

Since complimenting her is getting me nowhere and I need to speed things along, I try a different tactic. “So, I have a problem and I was hoping you could help me with it.” 

I can tell I’ve piqued her interest because she arches an eyebrow. “What kind of problem?” 

“Well, there’s this girl.” I hold her gaze. “She’s not my type and we’re all wrong for each other, but I’m fucking crazy about her.” 

“Oh.” She swallows hard. “I’m not really sure what—”

“I’m afraid to tell her how I feel because I’m scared she might not feel the same way.” I give her an earnest look, luring her in a little more. “What do you think I should do?” 

She shuffles her feet. “I don’t know.” Those baby browns cut through me like a hot knife through butter. “Perhaps you should start by being honest with her.” 

There’s a slight edge tacked on to the end of that sentence and I’m not sure why. 

“You’re right.” Standing so I’m eye-level with her, I place my hands on the edge of the tub. “Be my girlfriend, Sawyer Church.” I flash her a coy smirk. “How’s that for honesty?” 

Her eyes widen. “Oh my God. You can’t be serious right now.” A cynical laugh pops out. “We haven’t even gone on a date.”  

Undeterred, I run a finger down her arm. “Okay. Where do you want to go?” 

“I don’t.” Shaking her head, she takes a step back. “I mean…I can’t.” 

I’m not sure what’s going on here, but I feel like I’ve been booted out of the driver’s seat and the train is starting to veer off track. 

I don’t like it. 

“Why?” 

Averting her gaze, she says, “I’m not allowed. My parents…you know, being Jesus freaks and all, won’t let me.” Her teeth sink into her lower lip. “Not unless you ask their permission.” 

Record. Skip. 

“Let me get this straight. In order to date you, I have to ask your parents’ permission first?” 

Meeting parents isn’t my thing. Hell, the only reason I met Casey’s is because they showed up at my games. 

Nodding, Sawyer takes a step closer. “That would be a start.” 

“A start?” I all but croak out. 

I’m asking their daughter out on a date. Not proposing marriage. 

“I’m sorry, but if my parents don’t like you, we can’t date. That’s just the way it is.” 

Well, fuck me. 

 “But if they do, you’ll definitely date me?” I clarify. 

I’m not going through this song and dance unless I have a guarantee.

Edging closer, she skims her finger along my chest. 

It’s a move that draws all my focus elsewhere. 

Closing the distance between us, I cup her cheek. “Is that a yes?” 

She’s so silent you could hear a pin drop. 

My heart hammers in my chest when she leans in. “I wouldn’t date you if you were the last guy on earth, asshole.” 

Before I can fully process her statement, white hot pain shoots through my groin and she shoves me. 

I’m so caught off guard I fall right back into the hot tub. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” I sputter to her retreating back. “I confess my undying love for you, ask you to be my girlfriend, agree to meet your goddamn parents…and you punch me in the balls?”

Nostrils flaring, she turns. “Cut the crap. I know about the bet you made with Cortland, you motherfucking arrogant, selfish, good-for-nothing piece of douchebag shit.” 

Son-of-a-bitch. Which fuckface on my team told her? 

“Wow,” I note, climbing out of the tub. “How very Christian of you.” 

That only fires her up more. 

“Don’t you dare.” She points an accusatory finger at me. “I always knew you were a jerk, but agreeing to that bet was low. Even for you.”

She marches toward the house, but I grab her elbow. 

“How did you find out? Did Courtland tell you?” 

She balls her fists. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” This time when she looks at me, her eyes are glassy. “How I found out doesn’t matter. What matters is how much you hurt me. How much you keep hurting me.” 

Remorse—the genuine kind—infiltrates my chest. “Tell me what I can do to fix it.” 

“You can start by leaving me alone and never talking to me again.” 

She heads for the patio door again, but I stop her. “Can we go somewhere and talk?” 

She looks at me like I’ve just asked her to drink the water in Mexico.  “What part of never talk to me again don’t you understand?”