Chapter 34 Tytus
Chapter thirty-four
Tytus
“Do you want to take a nap?” I ask as I follow Sawyer into the room.
Eden declared it was his room last night—weird flex for an adult with his own place to also keep a room at his friend’s house, but what do I know?
From what I can tell, though, it’s true.
The sad boy acoustic guitar propped up against the desk and old band posters peeling at the corners look like his vibe, and Sawyer seems to be familiar with the space.
She trails over to the bed and hops up to sit on the edge.
I follow. I don’t know whether I should give her solitude or offer support right now. I just know I want to be near her.
This is all new for us. We’ve never operated functionally. If we’re doing this—if I stand a chance in hell of proving myself worthy of this woman—I’ve got to figure this out.
The conversation in the kitchen was intense. Couldn’t say I expected to spill my guts and admit my darkest secret to the two men who, for all intents and purposes, are my direct competition when it comes to my girl.
But I did it. Surprisingly, I feel lighter, unexpected relief coursing through my veins.
There’s an exhaustion that comes with being hyper-aware and chronically unwell. I’m just so fucking tired of feeling like I have to keep everything in all the time. So maybe this is a good thing. Now that I’ve shared the story, maybe it’ll ease some of the constant weight I carry around.
“I’m exhausted.” Sawyer peers up at me through dark lashes. “I don’t think I could sleep, though.”
She yawns then, and I can’t help but reach out and wrap her up in a hug.
She doesn’t resist. In fact, she leans forward and gives me more of her weight, resting her arms low on my hips, no doubt trying to be careful with my torso.
I exhale a long, cleansing breath, then inhale her tart, sweet apple scent.
It feels so good to hold her.
“Ty,” she murmurs against my chest.
“Yeah, mon ange?”
“I’m sorry.”
I still, confusion swirling inside me.
I assumed I’d be the one apologizing. I shared our history without talking to her about it beforehand. And then there’s everything I did to her. The coercion. The sleepovers. Blackmailing her to go along with and play my twisted games. I have so much to apologize for.
“Last night wasn’t fair to you,” she explains, tipping her head back and resting her chin on my chest. “I was so out of my head. I clearly wasn’t thinking straight, and what happened in the back of Noah’s truck…”
She doesn’t finish that thought, instead searching my face with those warm brown eyes I love so much.
“That shouldn’t have been our first time.”
Unexpected relief washes over me.
She doesn’t regret what happened—just how it went down.
I gently cup the side of her face, and when she leans into my touch, I take a moment to savor the sensation. “You don’t have to apologize, mon ange. As long as that wasn’t our last time, I’m good.”
She gives me a pitiful smile but doesn’t reassure me or deny that it’s a possibility.
That’s okay.
For now.
I can give her time and space. She asked me to try, and I fully intend to. Words are cheap. I need to prove myself. Actions are all that matter now.
Though I can’t let the moment pass without addressing concerns of my own.
“For me, the worst part of last night was worrying about what would have happened had we showed up even just a few minutes later.”
She presses her lips together and turns her head, breaking our connection.
Gripping her by the chin, I gently tilt her face back, forcing her to meet my gaze.
“Baby, I was scared shitless last night. You went to a party in an unfamiliar city, took whatever drugs Keira gave you, and almost got yourself in a really scary situation.”
Tears well in her eyes, but she doesn’t look away.
“There were so many versions of last night that could have played out differently,” I say. “Had we not found you quickly, or had we gotten there even a few minutes later—”
“It was okay, though,” she whispers. “You were there for me when I needed you.”
I grind my molars. Fuck. I don’t want to push so hard I create more distance between us, but I’m desperate to get through to her about just how fucking scared I really was.
“We got really lucky. Lucky that I hadn’t crashed for the night before Bryant called me.
Lucky that Noah answered the phone the second I called and that the roads weren’t too bad on the drive there.
Luck and timing were on our side. That’s what it all came down to, mon ange.
Luck and timing. Please don’t ever do something like that again. ”
Tears fall down both her cheeks as she nods. “I won’t. I promise.”
She turns her face and snuggles against my chest.
“Thank you for being there for me. I know it probably took a lot to call Noah and to team up with him and Mercer.”
Understatement of the fucking year.
But also something I’ll have to get used to, apparently. I’ll be teaming up with Noah and Mercer for the foreseeable future if this goes the way Sawyer hopes it’ll go.
Fuckin’ A.
“I’ll always be here for you, mon ange.” I plant a kiss on the crown of her head. “All I want to do is be here for you.”
She pulls back, once again searching my face.
But this time, instead of snuggling closer, she brings her mouth to mine in the softest, sweetest probing kiss.
There’s no urgency in the way her lips glide over mine.
She’s exploring, familiarizing, learning.
I kiss her back, careful to ease into it rather than ravish her the way my instincts are screaming at me to.
When she licks my bottom lip, I greedily open for her, desperate for more. With a little giggle, she teases my tongue with the tip of hers.
Heated electricity sparks through all my limbs, spurring me on. I lick into her mouth, and when she returns the gesture, my balls tingle in anticipation.
I have to fucking learn not to come within twenty seconds of contact, especially now that it seems like we may have an audience more often than not.
So, begrudgingly, I pull back, resting my forehead against hers as I pant and tamp down on the fiery need threatening to consume me.
“There’s something you need to know,” I tell her, willing my heart rate to settle as I stare back into her gorgeous, inviting gaze.
“Oh yeah?” she taunts, nibbling on her bottom lip as she shifts back. “What’s that?”
I track her movements as she slinks away from me and spreads her thighs, clearly trying to entice me to join her on the bed.
I’ll follow the woman anywhere, so of course I climb up and crawl closer.
“We’re not going back,” I tell her, prowling forward as she backs up until she hits the wall.
Her smile is salacious, the gleam in her eyes inviting. But only because she has no idea what I’m about to say next. “Not going back where?” she asks coyly. She keeps her gaze locked on mine as she strips out of the oversized flannel shirt Noah helped her into in the kitchen.
I hover close enough to kiss her again, ghosting my lips over hers. “To the way things were.”
With a huff, she falls back against the rumpled sheets.
I nudge my nose against hers, willing her to look up and take me seriously.
“Last night proved that my feelings aren’t unrequited.
That I may have been out of line and delusional in my pursuit of you, but that you want me just as much as I want you.
” I lick my lips, then boldly lean down and lick hers, too.
“You were desperate for me, mon ange. You begged for my cock. We’re never going back to the way things were before. I’m not giving you up for anything.”
Fire flashes in her eyes. This was the defiance I was waiting for. “And I’m not giving them up.”
She made that clear earlier, and as much as I hate the reality of the situation, I accept it.
“I’m not, Ty,” she repeats. “I refuse to give them up.”
We stare at each other, anger radiating off her, while I keep my expression neutral.
We’re not going back to the way things were—that includes the tension, animosity, and possessiveness I allowed to cloud my judgment and affect Sawyer’s happiness.
This isn’t about me or what I want. It’s not even about the other two men she cares about.
This is about her, plain and simple.
From now and until forever, everything I do and every decision I make will be centered around her.
I swallow past the lump in my throat, quelling the urge to choke on the words that make this all real, and close my eyes. “I’m not asking you to give them up.”
When I’m met with silence, when she doesn’t move an inch, I force myself to look at her.
The desire painted all over her face as she stares at me makes my chest ache.
We lock eyes for one second. Then two, then three, then four.
Finally, she puts me out of my goddamn misery.
“Come here.” She grips my head with both hands and pulls me back down to kiss her again.
I’m lost to the moment, driven by want and need and softness and her. I kiss her until we’re both breathless, only pulling away because the proverbial ache in my chest has bloomed into an actual burning around my still-healing incisions.
Gingerly, I lower myself onto my side, turning to face her.
She mirrors my position. “So last night—that was okay?” she hedges, biting down on that kissable, fuckable bottom lip I love so much.
“No, mon ange,” I correct. “Noah and Mercer being there wasn’t a problem, but our first time shouldn’t have been in the back seat of your other boyfriend’s truck.”
Her eyes flare, my words landing as intended.
Yeah, I said other boyfriend. Get used to it, baby.
Smiling, she presses, “What should our first time have been like, Ty?”
I’ve always loved how she calls me Ty. One syllable, two letters, so much unspoken promise on her sweet lips.
I shift closer, dragging a hand over her hip and up her torso until I’m cuffing the side of her neck.
“I should have laid you out on a bed.” I hover closer, kissing her softly. “I should have had the pleasure of peeling off your shirt and worshipping your gorgeous tits.” I slip a hand under the hem of the T-shirt she’s wearing.
She shivers in response to my touch, the sight lighting me up inside.
“I should have had the privilege of sucking on your tits, playing with your piercings, and savoring every inch of skin I could find.”
I brush my knuckles over one of her nipple piercings. She shudders again.
“I would have made a fucking meal out of your pussy.”
She whimpers.
I subtly work my hand down between our bodies and squeeze the tip of my dick, staving off the orgasm already threatening.
“I would have taken my time exploring, figuring out exactly what you like, and ensuring you were prepped and stretched and fucking soaked before you took me. You’ve got to be ready for me, baby. I need you to be prepared for my piercings when I enter that tight little cunt.”
“Ty,” she breathes.
The tingling in my balls is back, my vision hazy. Fuck. I’m so fucking close.
I grit my teeth, trying to keep my cool.
“I would have tried lots of positions so I could figure out what we both like best. I can’t stop thinking about what it’ll feel like the first time I take you from behind.
” I tuck her hair behind her ear, then plant a slow, languid kiss on her neck.
“I can’t wait to see how your body responds when I drag all seven piercings over your swollen, needy core, pushing you to the limit. ”
She whimpers again, higher pitched this time, then leans forward, seeking my lips. She meets me in the sloppiest, horniest kiss. We’re all tongue and teeth, frantic kisses and breathy moans. Goddamn, I love everything about this woman.
“You’ve put a lot of thought into this,” she says when she pulls away to catch her breath.
I still and wait for her to look at me. When she does, I tell her, “I put a lot of thought into everything when it comes to you.”
I cup one of her luscious, perfect tits beneath her shirt and drag my thumb over the barbell through her nipple, but a knock on the door brings the moment to an abrupt stop.
We both freeze like we’re kids caught with our hands in the cookie jar.
“Sawyer?” Noah calls through the solid wooden barrier. “I’m heading out. Are you up for coming with me?”
My girl tenses up, shrinking in on herself slightly as she looks from me to the door, then back up at me again.
My mind is made up instantly.
This is the first opportunity I have to prove that I’m more than just talk.
“Go,” I tell her with a quick jerk of my head toward the door.
Eyes widening, she sits up and fixes her shirt and combs her fingers through her mostly dry hair. “Be out in a sec!”
Rather than jump up and scurry out of here, she searches my face, concern etched in her brow.
“You’re sure?” she asks, sincerity and a hint of trepidation underscoring the question.
I nod easily. “Earlier, you asked me to try. I agreed. I figure that coexisting with them—accepting them and their places in your life—is the surest way I can prove myself. This is me trying.”
Sawyer smiles, pure adoration spreading over her expression. She kisses me once more—and damn, a guy could really get used to this.
She picks up the discarded flannel and grabs her phone, then with one last look over her shoulder, she opens the door.
I wait until it’s open wide enough that Noah can hear me before calling after her. “We both know you’re coming back to me later, mon ange. Be good.”