Page 51 of Knot That Serious

“Fruity and sweet and salty, beat that,” Jack retorted after not even hesitating.

“You just described yourself,” Eli pointed out, and Jack’s mouth dropped open as he jerked his attention to her.

“You—I—oh my god.”

Their chuckles filled the room, and it was then that she knew everything was going to be okay.

This was… nice, even. And Eli wondered if her heat would be that bad after all.

Eli blinked, and in the muted light from the television home menu, she found Jack beneath her.

Her and Jack had passed out on the couch, tangled in one another with their feet in Beckett’s lap. That’s the same way she found consciousness, still twisted up together, with her thighs wrapped around one of his, aching and wet and chasing the not-enough friction against his clothed thigh.

She gasped and untangled her arms, intending to push herself off the couch.

“Nonono,” Jack said, voice soft, hands lifting to grip at her hips and curl around her back, holding her still. “Don’t go. That’s… really fucking hot, Eli,” he breathed. “Want it so bad you’d take it in your sleep?”

Eli whined, a pierce of arousal striking her core. She was supposed to be embarrassed, probably. Instead, a gentle ache hummed through her, and Eli wanted. She wet her dry lips, met Jack’s half-lidded stare, and nodded.

“Yeah?” he breathed, and pressed his thigh up against her. Eli shuddered at the perfect pressure, torn between grinding down into it and inching away from how good it felt.

She fisted her hands in his shirt, bit her lip to muffle any sounds trying to escape, and let her head fall forward to thunk against his chest.

Jack smelled so fucking good. Cinnamon and first light and fond memories.

She remembered spending early Saturday mornings with Jack when they were younger, eating too much sugary cereal and watching whatever cartoons were replaying.

That’s what Jack smelled like, that first hit from the bag as it was pulled open for the first time.

Home.

And while they both held a plethora of innocent memories, there was nothing innocent about the way they moved against each other right then.

Eli could feel Jack against her stomach, hard beneath his sweats as she rolled her hips into him again and again.

He clutched at her, pulling her into a rhythm against his thigh, and Eli dug her nails into his chest, swallowed around the way his heightened scent sat on her tongue.

All she could focus on was the pleasure, coiling tighter as he jarred his thigh between her legs.

She choked out a moan, wondering if she should even bother to keep quiet because they were bound to wake Beckett up eventually.

Just the thought of Beckett, of his purpose here, sent a fresh wave of heat through her. He was here to knot her, and so was Jack.

But just then, the only thing she wanted to chase was the pleasure within reach, the promise of relief she sought against Jack’s thigh. The friction was dulled by the layers between them, and Eli was so wet, knew her panties were soaked through and wondered if Jack could tell, if he could feel it.

“Breathe, dude,” Jack whispered, and Eli would’ve laughed at the endearment if she hadn’t listened instead. Her lungs inflated with more of his scent, and the hand around her waist tightened, pulled her in harder against him. “Come on, just to start with,” he murmured, and it was the gently uttered permission that careened her over the edge.

She shuddered against him, head still buried in his chest as it hit her like a wave, a balm to the slowly growing desperation under her skin.

The aftershocks made her arch her hips away from him, but she hated the absence of something there, pressing against her, so she swung her hips back into him, indecisive and panting.

Jack ran a hand through her hair, and Eli blew out a breath on shaky lips. She lifted her head, cheeks aflame, and found Jack’s gaze blown.

She realized then she’d come without even kissing him yet.

Eli remedied that error, surging up and pressing her mouth to Jack’s. It was clumsy, and he gasped into it. She wanted to taste him, feel him, touch him, more more more repeated in her head.

Their tongues twined and Eli groaned, aggressive with her desire, until Jack got the memo and held her still with a hand at her jaw, and met her halfway.

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