Page 12 of Close Knit

“Is that what you want?”

“Yes, yes,” I moan. “Yes.”

“Then hold on.” The gold of his eyes is swallowed whole by inky blackness.

Instinctually, I hold on to him. Gravity seems to fail, and I’m floating.

“Oh my,” I gasp as he moves us to the other side of the room, still inside me. “What are you doing?”

“Bringing you to the stars,” he says, as if it were obvious.

My back collides with the cold window as his hands grasp my ass and thighs. I stare at him, bewildered and even more turned on. He rocks himself into me. This time, he’s not kind about it. This time, I’m certain we’re fucking. And I’m certain that I love it.

“God, you’re so good at this.” At my words, he kisses up my neck, opens his teeth against my jaw, and captures each of my throaty breaths.

“Together, okay?” he demands. As if he knows I’m on the brink and about to lose my every last shred of sanity. “Show me how good I make this pussy feel.”

“Yeah.” I bob my head. “Together.”

And as if on his willing command, a few deep thrusts into my core, our release is simultaneous. His knees almost buckle beneath him as he roars with me, but he doesn’t let me go until the pounding in my ears and the racing of my heart subside. As if he knows when I’m ready because he’s there with me in a different realm.

He carries me to the bed, setting me down gently before his heavy body indents the mattress beside me. “Thank you for this,” he whispers in my ear before placing his lips on the corner of my jaw. “I know it may be hard to believe, but I haven’t let go and had this much fun in a while. My work—I don’t get that many opportunities to relax with someone.”

Our noses brush. The man who spent all night teasing me and laughing at my bad jokes reappears. His features soften.

I study the map of lines and wrinkles on his face. The crook in his handsome nose. A scar above his brow.

Who takes care of him in his real life? He mentioned his handlers, who could be friends or family, but if he’s leaving, are they around that often?

“I’m the one who should be thanking you for making this the most special first one-night stand I’ve ever had.”

With that, he dashes off to the bathroom and closes the door. The sound of a shower turning on seeps into the room. A tingling sparks up in my chest. Suddenly, the sober reality of being alone in a room after such a mind-blowing experience sets in. I yawn, checking the clock. Four o’clock in the morning.

When was his flight again? The details blur in my brain like a smudged chalkboard. Am I supposed to leave? I have no idea. I drag the duvet over myself, looking around the space. A twinge of longing pools in my heart, shattering the fantasy world I’ve lived in for the past few hours.

Go away.We were both clear about what we wanted. I orchestrated this whole escapade. It was a one-night stand, nothing more.Yet a sinking weight persists in my chest.

The bathroom door swings open, sending a flood of light into the room that hits me like a cold splash of water. He strides in, already dressed in black sweats and a matching tee, a towel extended in my direction. “Here,” he says. “The shower is heating up for you, if you want it. I’ll give you some space. But thanks again for tonight. It was…a pleasant surprise.” His eyes are kind, but embarrassment creeps up my cheeks as I take the towel from him.

“Right.”Buck up. Two earth-shattering orgasms, and now you’re considering getting “Goose” tattooed on your heart.It wasn’t fireworks and shooting stars for him like it was for me. And that’s okay. I’m okay.

Stop being such a lover girl.

“The water should be warm by now.” He smiles.

“Good,” I reply, mentally face-palming at my lack of eloquence. “I mean, thank you. I had a nice time with you.”

“Me too.” He hesitates, as if considering how we should close out the night, but I collect my dignity and wrap myself in the towel before strutting off to the bathroom. A quick rinse, and I’ll call myself a car home. One-night stand accomplished.

The bathroom door clicks closed, and I climb under the hot stream. An odd sense of emptiness creeps in—a lonely feeling of something unfulfilled.

Chapter 3

Daphne

“Where have you been?”Juniper answers on the first ring as I stare out the taxi window.

“Hellooooo,” I sing. It’s almost 5:00 a.m. My sister usually rolls in around this time. “I’m on my way home. Are you there already?”

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