“Knox, I’m not buying all those,” I hissed at him. “Shut it,” he said and whipped out his credit card. “If you think for one second that I’m allowing you to buy me underwear—” He cut off my tirade by slinging an arm over my shoulder and covering my mouth with his hand. “Here,” he said, sliding his card across the counter. I was squirming against him until he leaned down. “If this is what it takes to get out of this fucking store without passing out from a goddamn hard-on, I’m buying you the fucking underwear.”
