7. Knox

CHAPTER 7

Knox

F or pills that are supposed to ease motion sickness, they leave me feeling more nauseous than any drug I've ever taken before. I'm still cuffed to the bed, but luckily for me, Gemma doesn't have them too tight. I have just enough room to click the release button. With one hand free, it's easy to release myself from my restraints.

My phone is on the table, but as soon as I power it on, I see she's repaid the favor of resetting the device. It's fine. I'm smart enough to never leave anything incriminating on this phone anyhow. The thing that does surprise me is the fact she left her torn shirt and panties on the chair. I stuff the panties in my pocket, sniffing them one good time, which makes me salivate.

I have to have her again.

While a part of me conjures the myriad of ways to pay her back for drugging me and leaving me with my cock out, getting my watches back is more urgent. It doesn't take me long to walk a few blocks to get to my car. Mostly because I'm in nothing but a pair of boxers, so it's more of a mad dash. Still, I make it without being singled out by anyone who may have seen me. The ninety-minute drive home gives me plenty of time to plan my next steps.

Inside, my computer and its hard drive have everything I sent from Gemma's phone. With Paulie and his accomplice's face seared into my brain, reaching out to some of my connections is my best option to get a lead.

One person's able to tell me where the car is. I imagine Gold Royale hasn't called the police or tracked the GPS in the vehicle since it's still on the street. The doors are locked, and it looks in running shape. There's nothing in the back seat. The chances of my watches still being there were slim, but it still sucks having to go through this.

My instincts tell me to head to Gold Royale's office. Perhaps Paulie did the right thing and brought back my stuff. I'm hoping that whatever fence they took it to will take one look at it and realize it's my work. No one wants to cross me.

The office is quiet when I show up in the early evening. Dennis looks frantic as he sorts papers across the desk Gemma normally sits at. I'd be a fool to think she'd come into work. I'm just happy she hasn't called the police yet.

"So, Mr. Arnold, do you have my stuff?" I ask just as someone walks in behind me. I turn around, hoping it's Gemma, but it's a customer. I tell them, "Can you please come back in about ten minutes?"

"No wait, um, Sandman, I mean, Mr. Knox. I have everything you need. Sir, Mr. Feldman, you can come over to the desk," Dennis says to the gentleman.

Fear forces people to make irrational decisions. But, in this case, it makes Dennis put his life and the life of a stranger in the line of fire. However, he says he has everything I need, and I imagine he's not lying.

"How's Gemma doing?" I ask him.

Dennis snaps his gaze at me just as the customer looks between the both of us. The customer makes the smart decision to leave, which angers the man behind the desk.

"You have a lot of nerve coming in here and scaring away customers," he grumbles and snarls as he shoves an envelope against my chest.

"You didn't answer my question."

"She's fine. She's fine," he says, throwing his hands in the air. "Whatever you told her has her wanting to take days off, and she wants me to quit. Ah. What the fuck am I telling you any of this for? You got what you wanted. There's your money. Now get the fuck out of here before I call the cops."

"The cops I already called haven't been here yet?"

"Get out, Mr. Sanders. Our business is done here." He waves me out of the office.

"I need one more thing from you, Mr. Arnold. Just in case my leads fall through, I'm going to need every address you have for Paulie the driver."

Dennis scrawls a few listings on a sheet of paper before throwing it at me. It doesn't take long for me to catch up to Paulie. It takes even less time for him to tell me where to find his buddies. After three torturous days in my basement, I get my watches back, but I do have to get rid of three bodies.

After getting my designs to my client, I actually go through the envelope of money Dennis gave to me. Twenty grand is in fresh banknotes while the other ten is clearly from money they've collected from the business. Every fiber of my being is telling me that Gemma's responsible for the twenty grand.

It takes a lot more effort to find Gemma's address than it did to find her father's. Honestly, the hunt, pursuing her, watching her from afar does something to me. She goes about her days with a smile on her face, looking over her shoulder every so often. It's like she's waiting for me. She doesn't have to wait much longer.

Gemma's apartment is a nice little one-bedroom in lower Manhattan. The time she goes out to lunch, orders dinner, and right now? She's on her way back from doing her laundry. It's perfect.

She's oblivious to her surroundings. Even as I slip in through her lobby door that closes entirely too slowly. The split second it takes for me to duck into the staircase and head up to her third-floor apartment makes me want to have a word with her landlord about the building's security. There aren't any cameras in the hallways either.

It works to my benefit as Gemma carries her laundry basket off the elevator and fumbles with her keys. Once the door unlocks, she steps inside and I push my way in behind her. A firm hand around her mouth to stop her from screaming and one arm around her waist, pulling her tight little ass against me.

"Fuck, I've missed this pussy," I growl against her ear.

Gemma drops her laundry to throw elbows and kicks at me, but it's no use. My height gives me too much leverage over her. I don't have any issues hoisting her into the air and carrying her over to her couch. I pull her panties out of my pocket, shoving them in her mouth before she can get any noise out.

"You knew I'd come back for you, for what you did. You wanted this," I tell her with a breath of satisfaction. She's wearing a pair of sweatpants that are far too easy to pull down, but once I get them over her ass to see nothing underneath, my cock's hard as a rock.

I pull it out, spit on the tip, and with one hand gripping both her wrists, I nudge her legs apart with my knee. One dip and push has me burying every inch of my erection inside Gemma's sweet cunt. She gets wet for me almost immediately as she chokes and screams through the panties in her mouth.

She spits them out after a few strokes, moaning, but her voice is laced with anger as she speaks between thrusts. "Fuck you."

"You already are." I chuckle and pull out. I spin her around, stepping on her sweatpants as I pull her out of them. She continues to kick and punch, but she's not screaming.

"Let go of me, Knox. You don't get to do this to me again."

"Too late, Gemma. You belong to me and I always take what belongs to me." My tone is dark, carrying her into the bedroom under my arm like a football. I toss her onto the bed, spreading her legs as she continues to fight me. Every hit comes in hard and fast.

When she connects her open hand to my face, she splits my lip. The taste of an open cut annoys me to the point I wrap my hand around her throat. She focuses all of her efforts on scratching at my arm as I choke the shit out of her, slamming my cock back inside her pussy.

Every stroke is a fight, a battle between the orgasmic bliss of being inside of her again and the fact that I should have never come for her. I manage to pull her shirt up, revealing her tits and using the fabric to restrain her arms. It gives me plenty of room to suck on her perky, supple, soft nipples.

I find myself nearing my climax, but I'm not ready. I pull out and drop in front of her, running my tongue between her slit and making her come all over my mouth. Her body writhes against my chin, thrusting for me to bring it over the edge of another orgasm.

The sweet taste and tang of her pussy don't do much to calm my need to come. I have to finish and push my dick back inside of her wetness. The ripples of her moist sex make it feel like it's meant for me. Just for me.

Gemma is mine. I can't let go of this. I can't not do this.

She takes it. She takes every stroke of punishment, every stroke of bliss. I pull her shirt off to see her face and wrap my hand back around her throat. I squeeze before lowering my face to hers, kissing her. To my surprise, she kisses me back. Our tongues entwine as I thrust in and out of her.

One stroke after another, I moan, groan, and choke Gemma until I feel the familiar contraction of her body before the wet release of her climax. She pulls my climax out of me soon after.

"Fuck. You feel too fucking good," I grunt after pulling out of her.

"What the fuck is this? You think you're just gonna jump-fuck me any time you feel like it? That's not how this is going to fucking work," she snaps at me with her arm over her forehead.

I grin. "So you agree there's a this to work on. I'm glad you feel that way. I would have hated for this to be the last time."

"I didn't think I was ever going to see you again. Pop told me you got the money damn near a week ago."

"I did. I actually came here to give you this." I pull the envelope her father gave me out of my back pocket and toss it on the bed beside her.

Gemma pushes herself onto her elbows, grabs the envelope, and looks inside.

I shrug. "I have a feeling the bulk of that money is yours and your father's a little shit who put you in danger. The guys Paulie ran with, it was only a matter of time before they got to the office safe."

"This doesn't constitute putting me in danger, Knox?" she asks, rolling her eyes and tossing the envelope onto her nightstand.

"No, this is us fucking and enjoying how hard I fuck. Besides, I'd never let this happen to you."

She laughs loudly. "You're the one doing it to me."

"You like it when I do it to you. Especially by surprise. You thrive off this shit. I wish you could see your face when I choke you."

"I have an idea of what it looks like," she admits with a smirk, rubbing her neck. "You know, we can set up the tripod again."

"Let's do this right then. Hi, I'm Knox Sanders, a sadist who likes fucking you by surprise. I'd like to do other shit with you too, like eat dinner and maybe go out."

"I should kill you." She shakes her head with a slight giggle.

"You already tried. Remember? You drugged me."

"You liked it." She waves me off. "If we weren't in some crack house shanty shit, it may have ended differently, but seeing as you have other people coming there, I didn't want to be around in case any of them came back. Thank you too."

"For what?"

"For giving me the money back. I can probably get Pop to retire so I can run the business."

I look at her. "Or, you could let me take care of you for a while. I hate you working in that office. You need better security around this building too. Anybody can just walk in here and have their way with you."

"Knox, you're the only man who I've ever let have their way with me. Were you serious about wanting to do other stuff? Like not sex?"

I nod. "Why would I lie? From our time together, I'd say we're even and we can start fresh."

"Okay then. We'll start fresh. Hi Knox. I'm Gemma, a masochist who likes to be fucked by surprise. Shit, Pop's going to lose his mind when he finds out."

It doesn't bother me in the slightest. The old man can't do anything about me falling for his daughter. As a matter of fact, I'm thinking about making him a gift to thank him. I laugh to myself, it's probably too soon. In the meantime, I'm happy to spend my days getting to know Gemma—kinks and all—inside and out.