Where the Streets Have No Name(19)

Emotions stacked on top of one another, some vying for attention and others trying to hide. Desire coiled in his gut mixing with a strong dose of fear. What if he fell for her during this trip? His stupid heart would break once she left and he’d be left picking up the pieces of himself all over again.

Amelia sighed. Her fingers inched over his stomach and he chuckled.

“You’re counting them,” he accused.

“Nuh-uh,” she denied.

He laughed; she continued groping his abs and he let her. “How are you feeling?”

“Crap. Self-inflicted though. I might feel better after a shower.” She pushed herself up, avoiding his eyes.

“Aye,” Daniel said, making no move to push her to talk.

He helped her to the small loo and shut the door behind her. The water turned on. He tried not to but his damned bloody head pictured Amelia sliding out of her jeans and fitted long-sleeved top. Unhooking the clasp on her bra…letting the flimsy scrap of lace covering her pussy fall to the floor.

Daniel shoved a hand through his hair. A thin layer of sweat covered his brow. They both felt like a pile of shite and here he was picturing the poor lass undressing.

Wait a minute…

How did he know she had flimsy lace panties?

Letting out his breath sharp burst of air, Daniel set to work boiling the kettle. Amelia preferred coffee – that much he knew – and thankfully the caravan came stocked with a small selection of instant coffees and tea bags. They’d bought a small jug of milk from the shop yesterday too. He arranged the breakfast items on a large plate, setting it on the table with the rest of the dishes, and sat down nursing his tea.

Just what the hell happened last night?

Amelia hopped from the loo cleaned and dressed, fresh-faced and looking so damned beautiful she squeezed at his heart.

He met her halfway and helped her sit. The scent of strawberries from her freshly washed hair was a shot of lust straight to his groin.

“Stormy out there,” she said. Her chin jerked to the window.

“Aye.”

Silence stretched between them, sitting across from each other at the table, watching rain lash at the caravan windows.

“I’m so sorry about last night. You can probably tell I’m not a big drinker.”

“That’s an understatement, lass, but you’ve nothing to be sorry for.”

“Sure I do.” A deep blush spread over her cheeks.

He wanted to reach out to her, feel the silky smooth skin; offer her what little comfort he could. For what? Something must have happened last night…something to make her skittish. Embarrassed. Why?

He studied her for a moment. At the same time he sorted through his head for a memory from the previous night. Anything to help him figure this out so she didn’t have to embarrass herself further. Not a single thing came to mind.

Curiosity overcame him. “And why is that?”

Amelia bit her lip. Her eyes went wide. “You…you don’t remember?”

This felt like a test, and damn if he wasn’t the worst student. Daniel never paid attention in class. And now he’d gone and done it.

…whatever it was…





He didn’t remember.

After everything they did last night, he didn’t remember.

And she didn’t know whether to feel relieved for his alcohol-induced memory loss or let down, like she wasn’t memorable enough to make it through the filter. Truthfully, she couldn’t blame him for forgetting.

So they hadn’t gone all the way, but he took her to the bedroom where he began peeling her clothing off piece by piece. He’d kissed her mouth, her neck. He’d licked the curve between her breasts and sucked her nipples into his mouth. He’d thrust the steel-girder stiff length of him between her thighs…

The temperature rose in the main living area of the caravan. Amelia eased out of her sweater, trying not to look at Daniel; hoping he was watching her and fearing that he was at the same time. She hadn’t been ready for more, and she told him as much, then embarrassment settled over her, prompting retreat to the bottle.

“Amelia?”

She wasn’t ready to talk. The thought of putting food in her stomach sounded like torture, but less painful than telling him what happened…what almost happened. The nearest plate on the table held an assortment of cookies. Chocolate. Damn…her hips were not going to forgive her for all this junk-food.

“Amelia…” Daniel sighed. “Ah hell.” His head dropped into his hands and shoved his hands through his hair. “What did I do to you last night?”

“To me?”

He looked up then. “Not…to you?”

She shook her head, indicating the negative. “With me.”