Page 8 of Love, Lies, and Celtic Knots

“God, no. Harder.”

“Oh, you mean like this?” I ask, pulling out again and then slamming back into her.

“The second one!” She grips my ass with her legs, pulling me closer to her. “Again!”

She moves against me, her breath hitching as I trail kisses down her neck. Her nails dig into my back, leaving divots I’m sure I’m going to feel for days. I relish the way her body responds to mine, the way we fit together like two pieces of a puzzle.

“I want to taste you, but we’ll save that for round two.”

“There’s going to be a round two?”

I chuckle. “Oh, darlin’, there’s going to be a round three and four, but at the moment I can’t stop myself. I need you. This.”

I pull her nipple into my mouth and bite down as I roll the other one between two fingers.

She hisses and then does some kind of ninja move. Before I know it, I’m on my back and she’s riding me like I’m some kind of bronco and she’s a rodeo cowgirl.

“I like a woman who knows what she wants and takes it.”

“Really? Good to know. Hold on, buddy. You’re gonna love this.”

She flips her hair over her shoulder and then moves forward and up, hitting her clit on my pelvic bone.

“Fuck!” I grab her hips, hoping she gets the hint. Whatever she’s doing feels incredible.

She tosses her head back and laughs. “I was hoping you’d like that.”

Over and over, I guide her movements as she rides me, and I enjoy not only the sensations, but the visual of her breasts bouncing. She resembles a beautiful, wild Valkyrie.

My cock twitches and swells. I’m so close, but so is she. I flick her clit with my fingers, swirling around her little nub before giving it a hard tug and a pinch. She cries out as she explodes allover my cock, milking me so hard my eyes cross. I pull her down, grinding into her as I release everything I have into the condom.

She collapses on my chest, her head notching into my neck. We’re both breathless and I hold her close to me. There’s something about what just happened between us—I feel a need to hold her just for a minute. Easing her off my body, I settle her on the bed while I dispose of the used condom in the bathroom. Joining her back in bed, I pull her close again.

For a while, the world outside ceases to exist. There’s no stress, no deadlines, no missing luggage. Just her and me, lost in the moment.

I wake up the next morning to the soft light that’s filtering through the curtains blinding me. My head is pounding, my mouth is drier than the desert, and I can feel the familiar haze of a hangover settling in. But it’s not just the alcohol that’s left me feeling dazed.

I glance over at the empty space beside me, the sheets still warm from where she was lying. She’s gone, leaving nothing behind but the faint scent of her perfume and the memory of last night.

We never exchanged names.

And somehow, that just doesn’t feel right.

Chapter 4

Emma

The first thing I notice is my throbbing head. A pounding, dull pulse behind my eyes that threatens to split my head in two. The second thing I notice is the unfamiliar scent in the room—clean linen mixed with something distinctly masculine. Not my bed. Not my sheets.

Panic sets in as I peel open my eyes, squinting against the early morning light streaming through the curtains. I glance around, heart racing, and everything floods back in bits and pieces. Jumpin’ Jacks. Whiskey. The stranger at the bar. A hotel room. The amazing sex.

Shit.

I blink, sitting up slowly, careful not to disturb the other side of the bed where the man I spent the night with is still fast asleep. His large, muscled arm is draped lazily over his head, his face and square jaw relaxed and peaceful. My stomach twists with a mix of shame and regret. We never exchanged names, and I’m thankful for that. I barely know a thing about him, yet here I am, tangled up in his sheets like a terrible one-night stand cliché.

I have a vague memory of balloon animals.

That can’t be right.

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