Page 19 of Knot Giving Up 2

Oz and I haven’t been together like this since that night in the office, when he worked out his frustration, and I worked out my guilt. It was dynamic and rough and just what we needed then. We’ve fooled around, and had a lot of fun with our tongues and mouths and fingers, but for whatever reason, we haven’t done this since that first time.

And this is entirely different from then. His thrusts are slow, but not because he’s teasing me or working me up the way Dante likes to. There’s a reverence to each movement Oz makes.

He’s making love to me.

The realization makes me gasp and then moan. He sucks my neck, marking me in the only way he can for now. It’s slow, and deep, and tender. And makes my heart feel like it could explode into confetti.

When he knots me, we both come together, the orgasm as tender and lasting as whatever this is between us. And when we drift into sleep, still joined, I dream of Oz biting me with a gold medal around his neck.

11

Nils

I’ve never experienced anything like The Parade of Nations. There was so much energy buzzing in the air, so much enthusiasm from the crowd and anticipation from the athletes. It was incredible.

I’ve never been particularly patriotic—history has shown us enough ways that patriotism and nationalism can be skewed and poisoned—but I’m grateful to live in America. I’m glad that my great-grandparents immigrated. Seeing all the American athletes lined up in their red, white, and blue made me feel a sense of pride that was both new and familiar. It’s nice to feel like you’re a part of something bigger than yourself. Like you belong somewhere alongside other people.

But what was even more remarkable was the feeling that transcended that one, the pride in being an athlete connected by a common experience with people who, on the surface, might seem completely different but deep down had such similar experiences to get here. To be part of humanity with all its varied complexity. That was what was really incredible.

When we get back to the village after the opening ceremonies, we’re all exhausted, but riding too much of an adrenaline high to go to bed. Some of the athletes will compete tomorrow, but we have another day before our games begin. So tonight, I want to do something more than just worry about whether we’ll win, and what McQuinn and I will do about his bet with Glenn Plansky if we lose.

“Let’s go out.” I look at each of my pack mates as we wait for the elevator up to our apartment.

“Where?” McQuinn asks.

“Anywhere.”

“I think we should do something quintessentially Parisian,” Meggie says, slipping her hand in mine. I give her hand a squeeze, savoring these little touches she gifts me.

“Like the Eiffel Tower?” Ellis suggests.

“No, that’s touristy.” Meggie wrinkles her nose. “And besides, we saw it from the river during the parade.”

“What do you have in mind, then?” Dante absentmindedly rubs his shoulder.

“What’s something quintessentially Parisian?” McQuinn says with a slight sneer.

Meggie’s face lights up. “Not having a destination.”

There’s something contagious about her eagerness to just go off and explore. We all feel it and none of us protest. After buying a bottle of champagne at a little shop near the village, we take the metro downtown, getting off when Meggie hears music and wants to investigate.

It ends up being a man smoking a cigar and playing guitar.

Ellis twirls her around, dancing right there in the subway tunnel, then passes her off to Dante, who’s the best dancer out of all of us and does some fancy spin that makes Meggie’s mouth drop open. He passes her to Oz, who awkwardly sways until we’re laughing so hard our sides hurt.

Harrison, the only one not laughing, is wearing an expression that's near nausea. “Can we please get out of here now?”

He’s pinching the bridge of his nose under his glasses as if that might stave off the smells. He put his glasses on after the Parade of Nations, since night is hard on his astigmatism, but he just seems annoyed with them now as he pushes them further up and out of the way.

The long tunnel we’re in is ventilated, but the scents are still overpowering. We follow the crowd and the signs toward cultured French civilization. I swear we walk over a mile before we reach the escalators that lead us back up to street level.

We stop at a bench by the river and Meggie digs the champagne we bought out of her bag.

“I always get afraid of opening champagne.” She winces, then laughs at herself and offers the bottle up for someone else to open.

“You’ve seen too many romcoms.” Oz chuckles as he takes the bottle from her. “I promise not to shoot you in the eye with the cork.” Untwisting the metal cover and sliding it off, he grips the cork in his hand and frees it from the bottle with a loud pop!

The champagne fizzes and bubbles over, but Oz swoops in for the first gulp before passing it to Meggie. “I can do champagne and rose petals for you any time, baby girl.”

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