Chapter Twenty-Two
Amelie
I wince at the pounding in my head. Who knew sugary cocktails could be more brutal than hard bourbon?
My sticky eyes reluctantly prise apart and I’m relieved to find I’m in my own bed.
A heat spreads across my abdomen though, and as I reach down to rub the spot my hand brushes against an arm.
I jerk away, but whoever has a hold of me pulls me closer.
My bare back presses against a bare chest and —
Oh my god. Serious morning wood strains against my ass. Holy shit! Why am I naked? It’s far too cold to sleep naked in this godforsaken country now.
I lie still, thankful that whoever is in my bed appears to still be sleeping. I need a second to figure this out. I strain to remember last night...Kalen, drinks, riding Frost like a horse. Oh god, please don’t say I slept with my bodyguard. My old bodyguard at that.
Shadowy memories scratch at the periphery of my mind as I try to quiet my racing heart. That’s not it. There was something, someone else.
Slate.
Remaining stock-still, I try to glance over my shoulder to confirm my suspicions, but all I can see is dark hair. Damn.
“Slate?” I hiss quietly. I have no idea why I’m whispering if I’m trying to wake him up. “Slate!”
A low sleepy groan escapes his lips and damn if it doesn’t make my nipples harden instantly. I wiggle a little to try to rouse him, but he clamps me tighter and grinds up against me. A whimper escapes me. I want him. I’ve missed him so much, his touch...we could do this right now.
I wiggle back a little, encouraging him to give me more.
The arm he has wrapped around my waist shoots south, his hand grabbing my hip with force.
Hot breath tickles the back of my neck before he kisses my skin and I relax into him.
He slides his hard cock between my thighs but doesn’t try anything else, simply kissing across the top of my shoulders and back.
I press back against him with a soft moan, rocking my hips in a silent plea for more.
As Slate kisses down my spine, his hand slides from my hip down between my legs.
I’m already wet and waiting for him. He dips between my folds then circles up to my clit, making my hips buck.
I bite down on my lip to keep quiet, unwilling to break the spell between us.
As his fingers start to toy with me, I rock and slide along his cock, keeping pace with his movements and his kisses.
It feels amazing, but I want and need more.
Sliding forwards, I rub the tip of his cock against my entrance, lining him up just right before sinking down on him.
The stretch feels so good, I groan. My head falls back against his shoulder and he kisses along my jawline.
I reach up and run my fingers through his hair, and a sudden flashback of me doing the same thing last night hits me.
“Please,” I groan, silence be damned.
Without waiting for permission, I begin to rock back and forth on his cock. I whimper when his fingers leave my clit, but he returns his grip to my hip and steadies me, able to make my jerky desperate motions smoother. Pleasure floods me, but greedy bitch that I am, I want more.
“More,” I grunt, rolling forward onto my front and dragging Slate with me. He straddles my ass, still inside me, and pushes my hips down into the mattress, grinding into me with a force that steals my breath away.
Sex with Slate has never been like this, but damn is it good.
He increases his speed, pinning me so tight that I can’t move beneath him. The only thing I can do is curl my toes in pleasure and cry into my pillow. I clamp down around him in a desperate attempt to come, but he controls the pace and my orgasm.
“Slate, please—” I beg.
The shrill ring of a phone breaks the magic and he pulls out of me with a snarl.
I turn my head to the side to watch his retreating form as he scrambles to find his phone.
As he disappears into my bathroom and I admire how fine his ass is – honestly it could give his twin’s a run for its money – I sit bolt upright with a sickening jerk.
Slate’s back is scar free. And there’s no sign of the mysterious knot tattoo which has been driving me crazy. Dread claws at my stomach and a cold sweat breaks out over my entire body.
“Slate?” I whisper.
He pops his head around the door, off the phone already. Or maybe he missed the call? I don’t know. My eyes fall to his waist where he’s still naked and the dark black outline of the Celtic tattoo is clearly visible for me to see on his left hip.
Onyx.
“Fuck.” All colour drains from my face and he grins coldly at me. “You…asshole!” I hiss, knowing that my insult doesn’t even begin to hit the mark. He laughs cruelly at me.
“What’s the matter, baby?”
“I am not your baby!” I seethe.
“Argh!” I scream and my bedroom door flies open.
I dive to pull the covers up over me when I see Sawyer standing in the doorway.
“What the hell’s going on?” he demands.
“Your brother is a total fucking bastard!” I cry.
“What did he do?” Sawyer’s gaze flits to his brother’s. Without a care in the world, Onyx strolls to the bedroom door and reaches past Sawyer, grabbing a small pile of clothes up off the floor. What the hell? He pulls on a pair of light grey sweats – commando – followed by a white T-shirt.
“It’s not my fault you can’t tell us apart,” he says, finally turning to face me, that ‘fuck you’ smirk firmly still in place.
“I was drunk, you creep!”
“Well, you’re not drunk now, so what’s your excuse?” He laughs.
In fury, I drop the duvet and launch myself at Onyx, but I’m caught mid-air by Sawyer’s strong arms. He pulls me against his chest and gives Onyx a hard look. He’s not nearly as pissed off as I want him to be though.
“Bro, I think you need to get going. You have a breakfast date with the family.”
“What about you?” Onyx challenges.
“I have a breakfast date with Amelie. We’ll see you later at the course.”
I groan. How could I have forgotten that that’s today? Damn it, I knew I shouldn’t have drank last night. Hell, I shouldn’t have gone to the party at all. I need to be at the top of my game for this stupid bloody obstacle course race today, not hanging out of my ass.
“Well, if you’re looking for a breakfast recommendation, I’d suggest the step-sister. She’s delicious,” Onyx goads.
“Get out!” I yell, swinging like crazy to try to get to him once more.
“Amelie, stop,” Sawyer says. But I ignore him, the red mist coming down and clouding all of my senses and judgement.
“Amelie! Stop!”
I growl and glower at Onyx.
“Get your ass in the shower right now,” Sawyer commands, putting me down on my feet.
I spin to stare at him, aghast but his eyes are firm. He has that no nonsense ‘don’t fuck with me’ teacher glare in his eyes and it gets me all riled up for different reasons.
“Get in the shower,” he repeats.
I huff and stomp towards the bathroom, grabbing Onyx’s stinking clothes – what the hell did he do last night to end up smelling like that? – and throw them at him.
“Damn, she’s even more violent when she’s denied an orgasm than when she’s hangry,” Onyx quips.
Ha fucking ha.
I snatch the nearest item to me, a can of hairspray next to the bathroom sink, and launch it with everything I’ve got through the open doorway towards the back of Onyx’s head.
It collides with an almighty crack and he swears loudly. A proud sort of chuckle slips from Sawyer's lips, as he catches my eye he gives me a wink.
“She never has any trouble orgasming with me,” Sawyer smirks at Onyx. “Or your brothers from what I’ve heard.”
Onyx gives a growl of anger and stalks from the room, slamming the door behind him.
Somewhat satisfied, I grin at Sawyer and head off for that shower.
I half hoped Sawyer would join me in the shower, but of course he doesn’t. Why would he when I asked him to take things slow and then he walks in on me fucking his brother? His brother that I hate no less.
I’m a mess. And it can’t all be attributed to the alcohol either.
I knew the sex with ‘Slate’ felt different, I just didn’t want to acknowledge it.
I shouldn’t have been having sex with any of them anyway.
Especially not today. Especially not when I’m trying to have an actual relationship with Sawyer.
And especially not when I know they’re lying to me.
Exiting the shower, I feel refreshed and awake, but my mood is still sour.
I brush my teeth with enough force to remove the enamel and scowl at my reflection when I’m done.
I need to get my head in the game today.
I know that this event is significant to the Knox family, and I’m almost certain it’s linked to their mysterious tattoos.
If I can clear my head and keep my wits about me, I might be able to get some answers today.
At the very least, I can look for clues to discuss with Elsie later.
Wrapped in my oversized fluffy towel, I walk into the bedroom to find Sawyer has made my bed and opened a window to air the room. My clothes from last night are gone too.
“Thanks,” I say softly, not meeting his eye. Guilt and shame wash over me under his scrutiny.
“Amelie—”
“I’ll just get dressed and we can head off,” I cut him off while crossing to my closet and pulling out my running gear.
I slip into my sports bra, leggings, socks and trainers, then I pull on a zipped hoodie.
Everything matches, which I’m sure is down to Elsie, and is top of the line, which I’m sure is down to Onyx.
Just thinking his name stirs up a whirlwind of emotions inside of me, but I take a deep breath and tamper them down.
I need to focus. I’ll use the emotion on the course and not before.
If there’s any way I can salvage this date with Sawyer and make it up to him, then I will.
I just need to focus on him, on the things that count.
Done, I turn back to Sawyer with a smile firmly painted in place. It may be a little strained, but it’s a smile nonetheless.