Page 60 of Knots About You
Taking my wrist, she brought it to her face, sniffing the inside as if I were a dram. I nearly fell through the floor.
‘Claire.’
‘Sorry.’ She blushed, not sounding sorry, and not moving my hand away. ‘Tell me about this one.’
‘Sherry oak aged and dried fruit notes. A whisper of smoke. Better to keep it short, but we can add smoke on top. Maybe not for the ceilidh, too fiddly. But during the festival…’
‘Then keep it short.’ Claire cut me off, and I was no longer sure we were talking about drinks.
I created a small stirred cocktail with bitters and the sherry finish that smelled like a glass of autumn. I tasted it, then held the edge of the glass to her mouth. She didn’t reach out. She opened her mouth salaciously and let me dribble the whisky into her mouth. The tiniest amount.
Fuck.
‘Well?’ My voice thickened as she swallowed.
She shivered. ‘You spilt a little.’
‘Did I?’ I hadn’t.
‘Mmm. Will you help clean me up?’
I set the glass down because I couldn’t trust myself not to drop it. She was half in shadow, her red hair drifting around her shoulders. The sweater dress slid off one shoulder, tempting me with an expanse of skin. The air around us buzzed, and I couldn’t decide if it was the atmosphere or desire thrumming in my skull. My pulse quickened as Claire fixed me with a positively devilish look.
‘Claire.’
‘Yes, Owen?’
‘Comehere.’
She didn’t need to be told twice, obeying with a grin. I slipped my hands around her waist, and she stood on her toes, searching for my mouth with hers. Whisky clung to her tongue, and it made her taste all the more like home.
I broke a fraction to breathe, and she chased me for more. A tiny noise in her throat that made me flex my hands, gripping her tighter.
I lifted her onto the edge of the cask because I wanted her closer. The bottles clinked beside us, crowded with the half-full glasses and her perfect arse.
She hooked her ankles behind me and pulled my body flush to hers. I spread one hand at the base of her spine and the other tipped her jaw.
‘You’re trembling,’ she whispered against my lips.
‘So areyou.’ I peppered her throat with a half-dozen kisses.
‘Equal opportunities.’
I reached for the Sour, that line of foam still clinging to the rim. An idea, probably a terrible one, hit me. I tipped the glass just enough to wet my finger and drew a wet stripe along her collarbone. She startled, then moaned so softly that it stole my breath.
‘Too far?’ I asked.
‘Not far enough,’ she teased, arching her back to present herself better.
I couldn’t hold back. I slide my tongue over her skin, letting the light salt of her skin mix with the whisky on my tongue. The best cocktail possible. I continued at the hollow at the base of her throat, the edge where the jumper stopped and heated skin began. I followed each swipe with my mouth, greedy, but attempting to restrain my hunger. Her hands found their way into my hair, and the steadying grip drove me to a higher level of desire.
‘If you want me to stop—’ I teased when she tugged my hair.
‘Don’t you dare,’ she threatened.
‘You drive me wild, Claire.’ I kissed my way across the throat. ‘The way you laugh. The way you smile. The way you haven’t hesitated to help around here. You’re smart, and funny, and beautiful…’
I trailed my mouth lower. She made a tiny, helpless sound as I tugged her dress lower, and slipped an ice cube into mymouth. The world narrowed to pure sensation. To the intake of her breath as I fit my ice-cold tongue over her nipple.
