Chapter 23
Jules
I find Sawyer in the same place as he always is.
Today, we’re supposed to take some photos for the subscribers.
While live videos and edited videos are always the best money makers, photos also do well on their own.
Those who don’t want to spend on the higher tiers or are still hesitant can see the photos and decide to upgrade or stay with that.
There are always a small influx of subs who upgrade their tier after posting some.
But I can’t exactly take the photos needed for both of our subscribers without Sawyer. It’s his turn today.
“Hey, cheese boy,” I call as I open the door and find him hunched over a table.
He doesn’t turn around, but he waves over his shoulder. “I’ve been waiting for you to find me.”
“You like me hunting you down?” I tease, moving further into the room.
The floor is clean and sealed concrete in this building.
It makes it easier to mop and the place is always spotless.
There’s no question if these men take their dairy business serious.
But Sawyer? He takes it further. If he’s not in the media room, he’s here.
I don’t think I’ve seen him anywhere else.
“Well, considering you can see pretty well, I figured it best to let you find me,” he shoots back and then frowns. “You can see, right?”
“I can,” I reply, smiling as I come around the table. In front of him, there’s a wooden board with a variety of cheeses, meats, and fruit on it. I watch as he places a small bundle of grapes at the corner. “Are you making a charcuterie board?”
“Cheese is best enjoyed with accompaniments,” he nods. “And what better way than a charcuterie board to display it?”
I lean forward. “Okay, but why are you making a charcuterie board?”
He looks up at me, and though his eyes are cloudy and I know he can’t see well, it still feels like he looks into my soul. “For us.”
I pause. “For us?”
“Yeah,” he answers, nonplussed.
“Okay, but why?” I ask again. “We’re supposed to be taking photos, not snacking.”
The corner of his lip quirks up. “We have all day to take photos, beautiful.” He picks up a cube of cheese. “And do I need a reason to prepare a date for us?”
This time, I freeze entirely, my eyes on him. “A date?”
Now I’m sounding like a broken record, repeating his words every time he says them. But come on? Literally a few days ago, it was all “this is business” and now I’m being asked on a date by the second guy? Granted, it wasn’t Sawyer who told me that, but still.
Sawyer grins. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t formerly ask you. Jules, would you come on a date with me where we sit in the milkhouse, eat cheese, and drink wine?”
I open my mouth, but no words come out.
“Don’t overthink it,” Sawyer says, holding out his hand for me. “Like you said. It’s just snacking.”
I mean, he has a point. What’s the harm in eating some cheese with a man? It’s not a big deal.
“You’re right,” I breathe, before taking the hand he offers. “It’s just snacking.”
He immediately leads me around the table and settles me on the stool beside him. Then he reaches for the wine glasses and the bottle he’d already opened before he starts to pour.
“Since most of my favorite cheeses are brie, I paired a Pinot Noir with it,” he says as he hands me the glass. “I hope that’s okay.”
I nod and take it. “I love Pinot Noir.” My eyes dance over to the charcuterie board. “But I love cheese more.”
“A woman after my own heart,” he teases, taking a sip of his own wine. “Allow me to wow you with the variety of cheeses we make.”
He reaches for a cube and when I lift my hand to take it, he shakes his head. “Open.”
I blink. “I can feed myself.”
“I didn’t say you couldn’t.” He leans closer. “But I would very much like to feed you, beautiful.”
If any other man would have told me something like that, it would be a red flag.
Feed me? No thank you. But the way he’s taking me in, the way his eyes trace my shape despite lacking the details, the way he holds his breath while he waits for my answer, it all makes me want to do whatever it is he wants.
Business be damned.
“How can I argue with that?” I say before opening my mouth.
He smiles as he brings the cheese to my lips. His fingers brush against them as he places it on my tongue, and when I close my mouth, my lips trace his fingers as he pulls back. His breath stutters as he leans away.
“What do you think?” he asks as the flavors explode on my tongue. “It’s our caramelized pear brie.”
“What do I think?” I repeat, shaking my head. “Are you expecting me to say any of these are bad?”
“No,” he laughs. “But we did away with the spicy brie we tried. It was too much.”
He reaches for another cheese, but I stop him. “Don’t I get to feed you?”
He tilts his head toward me. “Would you like to?”
“I wouldn’t have asked otherwise.” I lean over the board and select a cheese that looks like it’s filled with herbs and spices.
I stand to move closer to him, standing over him so that he has to tilt his head up.
I wrap my other hand around his chin and prod his lips open.
His attention is wholly on me as I slip the cube into his mouth.
Before I can pull my hand free, his lips clamp down on my fingers, sucking.
“You’re playing games,” I whisper as he sucks them clean and releases me.
His eyes crinkle. “Is it obvious?” he asks, his hands coming up to hold my hips. “Can you tell I’d like nothing more than to fuck you right now?”
“There are no cameras here,” I point out.
“I know.”
His words linger in the air between us, a challenge and also somehow deeper. A request? A promise? A warning?
I stare down at him for long seconds, wondering if I’m hearing correctly, wondering if I’m losing my mind.
“I want you,” he says in the silence. “In case you’re trying to figure out what I’m thinking.” His hands tighten on my hips. “And it’s not just for business.”
“But that’s dangerous,” I rasp.
“Dangerous,” he agrees. “And intoxicating all at once.” He presses his lips against my stomach, kissing me through my tank top. “Say yes, beautiful.”
I could say no, and keep things purely professional.
I could walk away and know that I did what’s best for my business.
But would I regret that? Would I regret doing this in the first place?
This man doesn’t truly know me, not my past, my history, or my family name.
We came together simply for work. This would be stepping over lines I don’t ever cross.
“I can handle heart break,” he murmurs against my stomach. “When you leave. Let us have this to remember each other by.”
His words aren’t exactly a promise. There’s something in those words that makes me feel like he doesn’t believe them, whether he doesn’t believe he can have a broken heart or that I’ll leave, I don’t know. But it’s the words I need to hear.
“Yes,” I whisper.
There’s no hesitation from this man. He doesn’t ask me to repeat myself.
He doesn’t ask for clarification. I gave the answer and he heard loud and clear.
He stands and lifts me so fast, I squeak and wrap my arms around him.
I hear a clatter as he shoves the charcuterie board to the side.
When he sets me on the table, I realize he didn’t exactly move everything because it feels like I sit in cheese.
Doesn’t seem to matter though. The moment he releases me, he goes to work dragging my tank top over my head and working on the rest of my clothing.
I’m naked on a table in the middle of a bunch of cheese not even a minute later.
“I wish I could see you more clearly,” he growls as his hands trace down my body. “I’ll have to settle for memorizing the way you feel.”
His expert fingers caress my body, tracing over my stretch marks and the ink in my skin.
He leans down to press his lips against my collarbone and when he leans back, I’m surprised to find another cube of cheese in his hand.
He presses it to my lips, forcing it open, and I suck it in.
Like before, flavor explodes on my tongue, this time of the brie and strawberries.
The same time as the cheese hits my tongue, he locks his lips around my nipple and sucks and it does something to me.
Never have I eaten during sex, but I can tell this is about to be something entirely new.
When he picks up his wine glass, I tense. “You’re gonna make a mess.”
He smirks. “I won’t be the only one making a mess.
” And then he starts to trickle the wine along my collarbone, letting it run down my body.
His lips follow the trail, licking it up from my skin, tasting the Pinot Noir and my body.
I arch my back and he growls against my flesh, hungry for more, hungry for me.
“I’m trying really hard not to rush this. ”
“You can rush it,” I croak. “I’d prefer if you did.”
He chuckles. “I’m sure you would.” And then he trickles the wine right over my pelvic bone so that it runs down, down, down over my pussy. Before I can so much as ask what he’s doing, his face is there, trailing the same path before he seals his lips around my clit and sucks.
My hand slaps down on the table, right into the charcuterie board. My fingers smash a lot of the cheese, but I don’t even care. Sawyer doesn’t seem to either. His face remains buried between my thighs, his lips swirling around me in a way that has me gasping into the open air like I can’t breathe.
“Sawyer,” I gasp.
He jerks. “Say that again.”
And I realize that it’s the first time I’ve said his name during any intimacy. Cam work, we have pseudonyms so our identities remain mostly anonymous. But here, in this moment, there are no cameras watching. There’s no chat room, no witnesses. It’s just the two of us.
I can’t remember the last time I had sex just for the fun of it.
“Sawyer,” I repeat, doing as he says.
Realizing that I can do this, that I can be an adult and just have fun is the catalyst for me throwing all caution to the wind. I jerk at his hair, forcing him up, and the moment he’s standing over me, I grab him through his jeans.
“Take off your clothes,” I command.
As fast as mine came off, I figured his would be just as quick. Instead, he slowly unbuttons his shirt, teasing as he reveals more and more of his chiseled muscles. He reaches for the fastening of his jeans next, his hand moving achingly slow.
“Faster,” I growl, reaching forward to help. It’s me who rips open the button. It’s me who unzips them. But it’s him who kicks them off before he comes back over me, his cock throbbing at my entrance.
He reaches down and swipes his fingers through one of the softer cheeses. He holds it up between us. “Mascarpone,” he murmurs, and then sweeps it across my core.
My eyes widen. “What—”
He thrusts inside, cutting off my question before I can ask it.
I cry out, my back arching over the table as he pounds inside of me with brutal precision, hitting the sweet spot inside me over and over again.
I shatter immediately, my body convulsing, but he doesn’t pause.
Instead, he reaches for more of the plate, swiping it across my lips before kissing me.
The flavor bursts across our tongues as they tangle, driving me insane, making my body shake with need.
When he breaks the kiss and instead trails down my neck, I’m lost to the sensations. But I still hear his words.
“One day,” he growls. “I’m going to lay you down on this table, and make you my charcuterie board.
” He grips my hips and drags me closer to the edge of the table, changing the angle.
“I’m going to eat it all off you, one by one, driving you insane.
” I’m already insane, lost to this onslaught of pleasure.
“Only when I’m finished will I taste you.
Only when you beg will I fuck this sweet cunt. ”
“Yes,” I hiss between my teeth. Honestly, he could have said he was going to murder me right about now and I wouldn’t have had a second thought about it. Sawyer plays my body like an instrument, dragging orgasm after orgasm screaming from my lips, my body tight with need.
He presses his mouth against my breast again and I can feel it leak for him. He doesn’t make any sort of noise about it, but I feel him suck just a little, tasting me there.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he groans. “The way your breath hitches just before you cum. The way you shiver beneath me, your body trembling.” His own body shudders. “I won’t last much longer.”
“Then don’t,” I gasp, clinging to him. “Let me taste you.”
Like I said the magic words, he jerks and begins to shake inside me, before he pulls out and drags me off the table onto my knees.
I have exactly half a second to open my mouth before his cock starts to jerk.
His hand grips my hair, his other around the base of his cock as he squeezes and milks himself for me.
I swipe my tongue over his tip, tasting his release, moaning at the filthiness of it.
When I seal my lips around him, he moans a string of barely intelligibly words and gives me everything.
We’re both panting as we gather our senses, as he leans back against the stool and helps me up. I glance at the table.
“I ruined your pretty set up,” I murmur.
He laughs. “No, you made it better.”
When he pops a cheese cube in his mouth and then offers one to me, I can’t help but laugh and take it. We finish the rest of the charcuterie board that wasn’t destroyed naked, laughing, and just enjoying each other’s company.
It’s the best fucking cheese I’ve ever had.