Chapter 17 #2
I should fight this—the warmth puddling in my stomach from his touch, the way I suddenly feel eighteen again, wrapped in the embrace of the cocky bull rider.
It’s only because I haven’t been touched in so long that I’m affected so easily, surely.
Sawyer’s an incredibly attractive man—any woman would surely feel this way if he touched her, kissed her. Right?
Still, I can’t seem to stop my body from arching into him or my head from falling back against his shoulder as he continues to press hot kisses against my neck which thaw the tension in my body away.
‘Sawyer …’ I breathe out, a lazy attempt to stop this. But my body screams for more. Especially when I unexpectedly feel his hardness pressed against my ass.
He … he wants me?
‘I’m here, Blue. I’ve got you.’ And with that Sawyer wraps one of his thick arms around my waist—keeping his hold on me steady yet soft, like I’m porcelain he wouldn’t dare let break.
It lets me melt back into him as he nuzzles his face into the crook of my neck, still massaging my back while he breathes in my scent.
Giving me the intimacy and care I didn’t realise I needed so badly.
Effervescence flurries through my limbs. I’m completely weightless in his gentle grasp, my worries slipping away as his strong body holds me up.
His fingers pulse against my hip and then he whispers in my ear, ‘Your body deserves to be worshipped, Blue.’
He slides his other hand around to my stomach, trailing his fingers so reverently across it, like he can’t quite believe he’s worthy enough to hold me. Tears spring into my eyes at the sensation.
And then he asks, ‘Please can I take care of you, Blue?’
Take care of me.
I need a second to realise what he means.
But when his fingers hover at the waistband of my flannel pyjama pants it hits me, accompanied by a hot wave of desire.
Heat rushes into my cheeks, my breath suddenly trembling at the thought.
The memories of how he once took care of me in his truck bed so well.
I want it. Desperately.
Even if I know it’s wrong.
‘Yes,’ I practically whimper, my exhaustion stronger than my resolve. ‘Yes, please.’
‘Always so well-mannered,’ he purrs into my ear before pressing another kiss to my neck, shivers rushing down my spine in response. ‘I need you to say it, though, Blue. Tell me you want me to touch you.’
I barely manage to speak over how breathless his fingers slowly filtering under my waistband has me. ‘I do … I want you to touch me but …’
He pauses. ‘Blue?’
I wince, embarrassment adding extra heat to my already flushed cheeks. ‘It’s just that it takes me a while. To get … wet.’
Damn pregnancy and birth control messing up my hormones.
‘Ain’t nothing wrong with that, Blue.’ His voice drops an octave. ‘Just means I get more time to play with you.’
Oh, Jesus. The unadulterated confidence this man has is crazy.
And with that, Sawyer dips his hand further into my pants, groaning when his fingers reach where I need him.
Where I’ve always needed him. I half expect him to dive further, slide his fingers into me, but he just trails them lightly across my centre, easing me into his touch in a way that has my muscles softening more than the massage.
Even if I want this, there’s still a flutter of anxiety in my stomach that he won’t take his time, like Gray didn’t.
But Sawyer’s reverent touch waves all that stress away, especially when he strengthens his hold on me just in time for him to press his fingers against my clit, making my body jolt.
A gasp leaves my lips as he begins to circle, winding that pleasure inside of me tighter and tighter.
But he doesn’t rush—they’re slow and tender circles, warming me up until my arousal begins to pool between my legs.
He swipes his fingers through it lazily, like he’s enjoying it too.
‘Fuck, Blue.’ Sawyer groans into my neck. ‘You still feel so fucking good and soft.’
‘It’s been nine years, Sawyer.’ My voice trembles out with my breath. ‘How can you possibly remember?’
‘Yeah, Blue. Nine years of replaying that night in my head every day. Ain’t easy to forget the feeling of heaven.’
Suddenly, Sawyer presses a finger into me, stars bursting through my body as he fills me.
Just as my knees buckle from the pleasure when he curls his finger, hitting the right spot, he spins us so his back is against the fence, allowing him to take more of my weight.
I can feel every inch of his hard length against me, and it takes all my self-control not to grind myself back against it.
Slowly, Sawyer pumps his finger into me, cursing filthy words into my skin as I get wetter each time.
Heat burns in my core, pleasure rippling across my skin—so intense in comparison to any way I’ve been touched before.
I clutch back at one of his arms, feeling the solid, corded muscles of his biceps work as he thrusts his finger into me.
My other hand fists the bottom of his jacket.
When he adds a second finger at the same time as he presses his thumb back down on my clit again, I can’t help but call out, ‘Oh God!’
Sawyer lifts the hand that was holding me up and clamps it over my mouth, hushing me. His lips tickle the shell of my ear as he speeds up the pump of his fingers, increasing the pressure on my clit, and he whispers, ‘Gonna have to be the good girl I know you are and be quiet now, Blue.’
Jesus Christ. His words have me wanting to moan even louder.
I whimper under his hand, focusing in on the building pressure in my core that is so close to spilling already. My body tenses involuntarily. I’m dangling on the edge of euphoria, and it’s torturous—it’s never built up like this before, not like the quick climax awarded by my vibrators.
‘That’s it, Blue,’ Sawyer hums, pressing kisses along my shoulder. ‘Let go. I got you, sweetheart.’
His words push me, and I call out behind his hand, ‘Sawyer!’
I’m freefalling in ecstasy as fireworks explode throughout my core, sparkling further into my whole body.
Sawyer doesn’t stop, thrusting his fingers into me to elongate my climax until I’m completely spent and weary in his arms, my body looser than I thought possible.
It’s bright and brilliant, a height of pleasure I’ve never reached before.
I’m not sure how long we stay like that, Sawyer still lazily stroking me until I come down from my high.
I’m looser than I’ve felt in years.
‘Thank you,’ I whisper as Sawyer slowly slips his fingers out of me, his other arm sliding away from me, leaving my body cold and needy.
When I turn to face him, he holds the hand that played with me out to the side, his fingers drenched in my arousal, and he just stares at me, jaw tight, eyes glassy.
I can’t get a read on him. He almost looks … pained.
That’s when my eyes dip down, to where he’s straining against his underwear, and another rush of heat strikes me. The need for more of him is almost overpowering, the ropes I’ve tied my past feelings down with fraying, trying to entice me with the promise of maybe this time.
But I can’t listen. I fell for his devotion, the safety he gave me, once before and look where that got us. Pain and heartbreak. And things were easier back then—we didn’t have children and careers and rational minds to remind us that it’s just a fantasy.
‘This—’ I worry my lip as I try to muster up the words which I know I’ll regret but need to say. I glance away—from the chestnut eyes that will convince me to fall again for him. ‘This can’t mean anything. I meant what I said before—I don’t have time for anything.’
Sawyer regards me for a silent moment, light dimming from his eyes. Then he just throws on that smirk of his—the one I know is only for show, and says, ‘You know me, Blue. I don’t do serious. Just wanted to make you feel good. Just a friend helping out a friend, right?’
I’m not sure if I don’t believe him or if I don’t want to believe him.
Either way, it’s a bittersweet victory for me, despite the sharp blow his words land to my stomach—it’s the right thing to do, even if I wish it wasn’t so.
I have enough to take care of, and having to unpack nine years of regret isn’t going to make me less tense.
Finally, he clears his throat and says, ‘You should get some sleep, Honey. Hopefully that’ll help.
’ Then he walks back inside the house, the gentle click of his bedroom door shutting sounds and I’m left with the cold, stark reminder that my body has never felt more safe, more cared for, than when I’ve been in Sawyer’s arms. And I just let him walk away.