Knot so Lucky (The holidates series Book 2)

eleanor

It’s so early that the birds aren’t even awake yet. Then again, even if they were, I wouldn’t hear them from the penthouse. I pad out mid-yawn, feet halted as my eyebrows raise in surprise.

“What are you doing here? I thought you’d be at practice already.”

Crew is standing at the counter in only boxer briefs, with a piece of toast half hanging out of his mouth, holding two cups of coffee.

Oh damn, between his disheveled hair and all that muscle on display, I have to blink a few times to refocus. It doesn’t matter how many times I see his body, those veiny forearms and the six-pack with the perfectly sculpted v always make me horny. I just want to lick him and objectify him all day.

He mumbles something, then motions his head toward the windows, drawing my eyes in that direction. Sweet baby Jesus, it’s raining.

I didn’t notice when I first woke up and walked out here, but the sky is dark gray, littered with angry clouds, and the rain is coming down so hard that it’s making those slash marks against the glass.

“No school. Rain day,” he mumbles around the toast before I hear a crunch.

I smile, sauntering over to the counter and leaning forward with my forearms pressed against the cool marble before I take my coffee from his hand, feeling playful.

“Look at you. All the other little QBs have to go to class and work hard today.” I crane my neck to look at what he’s wearing. “And you get to hang out in your underwear all day.”

I take a swig of my coffee before pretending I have a microphone in my hand as I hold my fist up to Crew’s mouth.

“Tell us, Crew Matthews. What’s it like to be God’s favorite?”

He laughs, shoving my hand away before finishing off his toast with a giant bite. I chuckle as everything he says is mumbled through his mouthful.

“There are flash flood warnings throughout the entire city, so we’re pretty much stuck here for the day.”

I look out the windows again as lightning brightens the sky, followed by a clap of thunder. My brows raise as I turn back to his grinning face.

“Did you plan that?”

His shoulders shake. “Obviously. I score touchdowns and manipulate the weather. I had it written into my contract, actually.”

God, I have a weakness for Crew like this—half naked and charming. But it’s fine. I’m on vacation. He’s just my Italy.

“Well then,” I breathe out, moving past my thoughts as my palms smack the counter, raising me back to my full height. “There’s only one acceptable solution for rainy day boredom.”

The look on his face is wary at best. Which is funny because that pretty much confirms that he knows me well.

“And that is?”

I shake my hips, doing a little dance.

“Duh. Spa day.”

crew

“Is this going to burn my face?” I grimace, sticking my finger in the bowl before wiping it off.

She’s laughing, but I’m fucking serious.

The moment she’d said “spa day,” I thought she meant here at the hotel.

So when she ran to the phone and started ordering a bunch of random shit up from the concierge, I stupidly thought it was all just a bunch of snacks because it was, like, blueberries, strawberries, and yogurt.

But once it all arrived, she spent the next thirty minutes mushing it up and putting together all these concoctions while simultaneously talking about everything from reality television to whether I believe the conspiracy theories about Britney Spears.

And I’ve sat here, on this barstool, hanging on her every word before berating myself and trying to distract myself from how fucking cute she is. Honestly, that’s the best description of this week I could ever have.

That’s been exactly me since the night we cuddled like fucking koalas—warring with what I want and what I shouldn’t take. Because when I’d said to myself I’d follow the game plan tomorrow, it became ten days’ worth of them.

Her hair’s up on top of her head as she bops around the kitchen, taste testing what she swears will make my pores nonexistent. I didn’t even know they showed or weren’t supposed to.

“Come on,” she directs sweetly, walking past me to the living room.

Her feet hit the blanket she had me set up on the floor in front of the windows so that we could watch the rain.

She sets the bowls down before sitting crisscross on the floor, looking at me like I’m supposed to follow suit. So I do, frowning.

“Let me get this straight. I have to put fruit and yogurt on my face?”

She laughs before putting a finger in front of my mouth, shushing me.

“Yes. It has antioxidants, and it’s good for you. I mixed it with some clay stuff I had too, so it’ll make your skin glow.”

I smirk. “Wow…I’ve always wanted to glow.”

Eleanor rolls her eyes before dipping her fingers into the bowl. She leans forward with some blue slop on them, smiling before gently swiping over my cheek.

My tongue darts out, licking my lips because she may not be looking at me, but I’m fucking looking at her.

Fuck it. Today won’t count. I’m rain-checking reason.

I reach out, tugging at her hip as I straighten my legs, guiding her to straddle me before I sink my palms behind me, propping myself up.

She rocks herself over me only once, getting comfortable, but it still makes my dick pay attention.

I’m so fucked. But I don’t care.

I just want her on me, her body touching mine.

Her fingers smooth the cream over my face inch by inch as we sit in silence until my tongue darts out again. This time, I get a nasty surprise.

“Don’t eat the face cream,” she scolds, giggling.

I chuckle, feeling parts of my face already starting to get tight.

“You said it was edible.”

“Lies. You started tuning out after I said antioxidants.”

My brows draw together as I stick my tongue out, still tasting that shit on the tip of my tongue. She’s laughing, looking down at her hands, which are covered in goop, before she leans forward and sucks my tongue clean.

Now I’m completely hard.

She spits what’s in her mouth on the towel and puts her eyes back on mine.

“Don’t say I never did anything for you.”

My hand winds around her neck, gripping the back as I pull her back into a proper kiss. She melts into me, rocking her center against me again as she hums into my mouth.

Fuck… This girl.

I jerk my hips up, making her bounce and laugh as I growl into the kiss. Her palms come to rest on my chest before she pushes, breaking away, breathless as she touches her forehead to mine.

“We need to wash off because if it’s burning your face, imagine what it’ll feel like on your…”

That makes me grin, but I shake my head. Because, yes, I want to fuck her, but right now, I want to hang out with her more.

“Tell me something,” I breathe out, letting her go back to slathering me. “When did you know this was your thing? All the salon and face stuff?”

She takes a deep breath, looking thoughtful, before dipping her fingers into the red concoction and motioning for me to lift my chin.

I do because she makes me a good boy.

“Mmm, I feel like I kind of fell into this. My family is high achieving. My sister started her design company right out of college and exploded. But I was the opposite. I dropped out of college my sophomore year.”

I lower my face to hers, but she tsks, so I raise it again, speaking toward the ceiling.

“Are they the ‘disappointed in you’ kind or the ‘find your way’ kind of parents?”

She smiles; I can feel it.

“The ‘find your way’ kind. I’m lucky.”

“I’ve always wondered if I’d been adopted if my life would’ve gone differently.” I exhale because I’ve also always had the same answer. “And I always think, I hope not. I like the result. The journey was a different story. You know?”

“I get that.”

She does. It’s not something she’s just saying. More goop hits my chest, so I lower my head, eyes back on hers.

“Is this shit going on my whole body?”

She winks.

“If you’re lucky.”

I give her a wink back and just sit there like a good test dummy as she gets that thoughtful look on her face.

“When I look back on where I was at twenty versus where I am now, I don’t even feel like the same person sometimes. I bounced around from thing to thing, from idea to idea. Until one day, I was like, ‘it’s embarrassing that I don’t have a thing.’ I mean, I had a job. But that’s different from a calling. So, one night, over couch sushi and wine with Millie and Sam, I just started making a list of all the things I would want to do with my life if I won the lottery. And bam…skin care, wellness, that was like my thang.”

She laughs, and I want to follow suit, but my concentration is currently being stolen by the feel of her fingers sliding down my throat to my chest over and over absentmindedly.

But the words formed tumble out on their own anyway.

“I think it’s brave to take the time to figure out what you want. We only get a handful of trips around the sun. Might as well make them epic, right?”

Her eyes bore into mine as if a thousand thoughts are cluttering her head. So, I fill in the silence.

“And for the record, you’re good at this. Cuz I really like having your coochie cream on my face every day.”

She gives me a little shove, laughing.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying the cream, but truth be told, I also like your face in my coochie every day.”

Dirty little thing. I fucking love it.

I grab her waist and tickle her, smiling as she screams and wiggles.

“No! Crew!”

She smacks my chest, grinning ear to ear, but I keep tickling her, forcing her sideways until she’s lying flat on her back and I’m looking down at her, nestled right between her legs.

“I’ll kill you,” she exhales a little breathlessly, staring up.

Her eyes are so pretty that I’m starting to wonder if the memory of them will ever do them justice. And before I know what I’m saying, something stupid pops out.

“I want to come to the opening of your salon.”

Why the fuck did I say that? No, no, no. I have to take that back.

She stares back at me, unblinking, not saying anything. Because it’s one thing for us to play house, but what I just said took us into the real world.

And the one thing both of us have done since the beginning of this has been to dance around what happens after. Are we friends? Are we still hooking up? It’s something we don’t touch.

My lips part to take it back or, if I’m being honest, to confess the truth. Can we know each other after this? is on the tip of my tongue. But she smiles just as cold cream hits my face.

I suck in a breath as she smears the handful down over my chest, laughing her words out.

“Okay, but only if you promise to bring the girls you’re hooking up with. Because securing all the pussy in the Bay Area would be awesome.”

And just like that, the clock is reset.

I reach into the dish behind me, grabbing who knows what.

“Oh…you think that’s funny? Because you’re so clever? That’s right, I’m a big ole whore.”

I smush my own handful into her cheek as she screams. And like two responsible adults, we do exactly what we should.

We break out into a full-fledged food mask fight.

Shit’s getting slung everywhere as we scramble to the sides of the room, trying to pelt each other with nasty-colored yogurts and whatever else we can find.

She takes off running toward the kitchen for more supplies, but I’m right behind her, hooking my arm around her stomach and lifting her off the ground as I slather her hair in whatever the blueberry stuff was.

“Did you think you were going to get away? Yeah, right. You’re a terrible fucking running back. Who runs a straight route?”

She laughs harder as I carry her like a football from the kitchen toward the living room so I can empty the bowls on her.

But she stops me in my tracks as she says, “What the hell is a running back?”

I set her to her feet and look her directly in those yogurt-and-fruit-crusted eyes, unable to hide my shock.

“Did you just ask me what a running back is?”

She shrugs the cutest fucking shrug as she scrunches her nose, countering, “Are they important?”

Are they important? Is she serious? This is a joke.

My head draws back as I huff a laugh and look over my shoulder because I must be hallucinating.

I wag my finger at her, matching her smile as I say, “No wife of mine. No. Wife. Of mine. Not even a fake one.”

eleanor

He’s insane. He’s lost his fucking mind. We’re standing in the living room, covered in gunk drying on our bodies, and he picks up a chair and moves it to the left side of the room.

“Okay, baby, so the couch is the offensive line. I stand behind that line. You are the defensive end, so you’re lined up with the chair.”

He motions for me to line up with the chair, so I walk over, chuckling.

“Okay, but so, where’s the running back on my side?”

Crew throws his hands in the air, turning in a circle, making me laugh harder before he points at the chair.

“Wild Card, listen to me when I’m on the field. The other team’s defense is on the field. Your running back is on the bench.”

I squint one eye shut and nod.

“Got it. So you’re supposed to throw the ball to me?”

Crew looks like he might give it all up and try punching a hole in the window just so he can jump from the thirtieth floor. But I can’t help myself. I refuse to tell him that I was only kidding.

I know exactly what a running back is. I grew up listening to my father TV coach the Niners since I was little.

Now, I may not know who any of the players are because I tap out at watching the game, but that doesn’t mean I don’t know what a fucking running back is.

His hands smack down on the back of the couch as he lets out a frustrated breath before he stares at me. Shit, this is getting harder to sell. I can’t stop smiling.

And the longer we look at each other, the more I start to laugh.

“You. Little. Bullshitter,” he barks, standing straight, finally seeing right through me.

I break and start laughing hysterically. Crew walks around the couch, shouting playfully. “It’s written all over your face. Son of a bitch. This whole time, you knew exactly what I was talking about.”

I shrug, sinking into his arms as he wraps them around me.

“I mean…I’d actually never heard the term flanker, so it wasn’t a total lie.”

His voice gets quieter, but he’s still smirking.

“I’ve been explaining football to you for the last twenty minutes. When were you going to stop me? Because I was ready to run plays.”

“You’re a lunatic.” I chuckle, picking a dry piece of face mask from his face. “You know that, right?”

He nods and tips his head toward the bedroom, and I follow without hesitation, not even asking why. We walk into the bathroom, but as he heads to the tub, turning it on, I do the same to the shower. Neither of us says a thing; we just follow each other’s lead.

I drag my tank over my head, glancing over my shoulder because his hand is already on my waist.

“Rinse here? Soak there?”

I nod as we both step into the massive shower, letting the water rinse off our bodies, making the floor of the shower look like when the rain washes away chalk drawings.

I reach up, wiping my fingers over his smooth neck, and he does the same to me.

Crew and I stand under the warm water beating down on us, silently washing each other off before he runs his hands over my hair, squeezing the water out of it.

“Bath?”

“Yes, please.”

The shower cuts off, and his hand slips into mine, our bare bodies walking in step to the tub. I’m helped inside before he lowers himself in, making the water rise almost to the top.

I chuckle, floating my hands over the top of the warmth and staring across at him.

“This is nice.”

This, as in all of this…him, me, the last few weeks.

He nods, cupping a handful of water and splashing it over his face before running his hands over my legs and tucking my feet on either side of him.

The thought that’s been trying to fucking assault me for the last week finally tumbles out.

“It’s crazy to think we have a little less than a week left of this unholy matrimony.”

I lay my head back, not wanting to see the look on his face. Because if it’s utter relief, that’ll sting.

“Yeah. Damn. We survived.”

I can’t really make out what his voice sounds like. Not that it has to sound like anything. Ugh, I’m being gross. Shut up, Eleanor.

“So,” he says with my favorite amount of gravel in his voice. “What do you want to do for your final countdown in Crew paradise?”

I laugh and open my eyes, lifting my head as he runs his hands down my legs and sits up.

“Paradise? Someone has good self-esteem. I love that for you. Don’t ever give in to what everyone says. You really are almost as cute as Brady.”

He jerks me forward, making me squeal and the water splash.

“Almost as cute? Imma hold you under this bathwater.”

I laugh as his fingers begin to knead my sides.

“Fine,” I whisper, feeling warmer. “You’re way cuter. And if I could make a request for my last meal before I’m freed, I’d like—”

To emphasize the filth, I lean in and whisper the details in his ear. His groan is all I need to make me smile as I draw back and look at him.

Crew’s eyes dip to the swells of my breasts before lazily making their way back to my face.

“What do you want from me?” I whisper before pressing a kiss to his chin. “The last supper, so to speak.”

“Scream my name?”

“Try again.”

He reaches down between us, fisting his cock, and grabs my ass with his other hand, lifting me as he says, “Then come to field day. It’s my one last thing with the Raiders. That’s what I want.”

I don’t know what it is, but I nod as my chest rises and falls, anticipating what’s about to happen. There’s no foreplay, no buildup. Crew just stares into my eyes as the tip of his cock presses at my entrance before he slowly slides me down, filling me until he bottoms out.

I gasp, “Oh fuck.”

And he groans, running his massive hands up my back.

I wrap my arms around him, rocking my pussy into him, in heaven as he slowly glides in and out.

There are no words, just our breath mingling as we drag our lips over each other’s flesh but never kiss.

His hands dip into the water, lifting to wet my hair and slick it back. So I let my head fall back as I ride him, feeling my pussy contract around his cock.

We’re just fucking, raw and uninhibited as his palm massages my breast before his mouth closes around my nipple.

I suck in another breath, weaving my fingers through his hair as I rise and fall over and over, pressing my tits against him the moment they’re abandoned.

This is exactly what I need at this moment.

To be connected to him. Everywhere.

Crew’s hand locks on my hips as he thrusts inside me, taking over. Water splashes around us, but I’m only focused on how good it feels. His cock stretches me, making my breath catch when he hammers inside my tight pussy all the way.

He moans against the curve of my neck, licking my skin and kissing it before his arms lock tightly around me, guiding my body flat against his as he lies back.

Oh fuck. It creates friction on my clit, and he knows it because Crew starts moving me up and down.

Every piece of him fucking me.

I’m panting, picking up the pace as I hold him close to me, my arm wrapped around his neck. God, it feels so fucking good. My swollen clit rubs along his tight stomach as his dick fills me.

Fuck. Yes.

I can feel that twinge, the need. My clit throbs, screaming for more. I wrap my wet arms around him tighter, sliding up and down his body, whimpering as his hands grip my ass, forcing me even closer, grinding my body against him as he fucks my pussy.

Water’s slapping between us as our mouths huff hot air.

I grip his neck harder, panting, biting my lip and almost drawing blood as I try to spread my knees wider, wanting my whole pussy dragging over his body.

Stuttered cries fall from my lips as I scream his name in my mind. Building and building, stomach tightening until I press into him, still falling over the edge and feeling my pussy contract around his cock.

“Wild Card,” he groans, thrusting hard one last time as we both fall into bliss, coming together.

My body quakes as I hold on to him, goose bumps blooming everywhere.

His lips press to my shoulder as I release my arms. They almost hurt from the tension, but with each deep exhale, they slink away from him until they’re by my sides and my head is laid on his chest.

“Damn,” he breathes out heavily.

I nod lazily in agreement.

“Want to order burgers?” he adds.

And I laugh.

Goddamn him. I really want to move to Italy.