7. Ava
CHAPTER 7
Ava
OBSCENITIES AND ORGASMS
Taking a deep breath, I shut my eyes and sit all the way down on Sawyer’s dick.
There’s a blinding flash of pain, which draws a moan from deep in my throat. My legs tremble. I hold his hand in a death grip as the burning stretch between my legs throbs in time to my heartbeat.
I always feel full when I’m on top. But the fullness I feel when I’m on top of Sawyer is next level. His cock is thick, and when I look down, I see myself splayed open around him.
Weird that I like the feeling of being split in half? The burn, the pain, the anticipation—it’s achingly hot, scorching me from the inside out.
Especially when paired with Sawyer’s tenderness. He’s got a filthy mouth, and he’s not afraid to get rough. But he’s also capable of being gentle just when I need it.
Case in point, he does that thing again where he draws his thumb over the back of my hand. “Keep breathing, pretty girl. We can change positions if you want? Try something a little less?—”
“No.” I keep my eyes closed, focusing on my inhales and exhales. I want more, not less. “No. I like the fullness. It hurts, but in a good way.”
His other hand moves from my hip to my breast, where he flicks my nipple with his thumb. “You’re so tight. So fucking perfect. Fair warning, I ain’t gonna last long.”
“I ride fast for a living.” I feel my lips curl into a grin. Opening my eyes, I see him looking up at me in awe.
The burn between my legs dissipates, pleasure rising in its place.
“You can go slow with me.” He cups my breast, feeling its weight. Marveling at it, really. Then he reaches up and tucks my hair behind my shoulder. “I wish you could see yourself right now, Ava. Being brave and taking my dick like this—you’re red”—he swipes my cheek—“and you’re lit up. So strong.”
His voice gets a little hoarse on the last words. My chest hollows out. This man’s earnestness might just be the sexiest thing about him. He doesn’t play games or hold back. He bares himself to me in a way no man ever has before.
He’s supremely confident. And that makes me wanna be confident too.
I rock my hips a little, making him hiss.
“You ready to come?” His hand glides down my belly.
I nod. “Please.”
“So polite when you wanna be.”
“Are you?” I pant. “Ready to come?”
“You got no idea. Show me what this pussy can do, pretty girl. Show me how well you ride, and I’ll give you what you want.”
He rolls his thumb over my clit at the same time I rise up, then come back down. A baby thrust. But the combination of the friction and his thumb on my clit sends me spiraling. The need in my core coils tighter as his thumb works steady, patient circles over my pussy.
His stomach caves when I rock my hips harder, quicker, his pecs and biceps drawing taut as he starts to move his hips too, hitting me on the apex of my own thrusts. My tits bounce. He watches them, his lips parting, nostrils flaring.
“So fucking good,” he says through gritted teeth. “C’mon, Ava, come for me. Right now. Lemme feel you. How much you like my dick—lemme feel it.”
My thrusts become uneven. My heart goes wild inside my chest as I approach the edge. My cunt flutters around him, making our fit painfully tight, and then he presses his thumb hard against my clit.
At the same time, he grabs my breast and pinches my nipple.
“ Oh! ” I cry out, shutting my eyes as sensation slams into me.
I come. The release pounds through me on a tidal wave of hot, heavy throbs. My entire body seizes as my pussy clamps down on Sawyer’s dick. The sweetness of it, the intensity, is unbearable. I realize we’re still holding hands when I squeeze his so tightly that he lets out a dark chuckle.
“I’m here, pretty girl.” He squeezes back. “I’m right here. You feel incredible. Keep going.”
I come for what feels like a small eternity. Streaks of neon light erupt behind my closed eyelids as I hold on to Sawyer for dear life. I use his words as a kind of mantra, a reminder to stay in the present.
I am here. I am here. I am here .
The silent chant moves through my body in time to my frantic heartbeat.
When I finally float back to earth, I smile. I feel exquisitely, joyfully alive.
But when I open my eyes, I see that Sawyer’s face is tight with emotion. I can’t read him. All I know is his eyes are lit up like twin blue flames, somehow hot and icy cold all at once.
He’s got an almost … bewildered look on his face, like he can’t believe how good this is either.
We’ve known each other for, what, a few hours? And already this is the best sex I’ve had in years.
Maybe ever.
“What?” I ask.
“Just.” He blows out a breath. “You. So fucking pretty when you smile. I can’t—god damn it, Ava.”
Before I know what’s happening, he’s flipping me onto my back and climbing over me. His dick slips out, but then he tosses one of my legs over his shoulder and uses his hand to guide himself back to my entrance. He slides home on a deep, hard stroke before capturing my mouth in a bruising kiss.
He thrusts once, twice. Three times. All deep enough to have me crying out again. The ferocity of his kiss, the rough, wild way his body moves over mine—it’s overwhelmingly sexy.
I am legitimately overwhelmed by how much this man seems to want me.
I fucking love it.
He’s an animal when he pounds into me, pinning me to the mattress with his enormous weight so that I can barely breathe.
But I’m the animal when he suddenly pulls out, my leg slipping from his shoulder, and he falls back on his haunches. My pulse skips a beat when I see him rip off the condom and toss it aside. I stare at his cock and lick my lips, unapologetically thirsty for his taste.
“Gimme,” I bite out.
Fisting himself, he meets my eyes as he rolls onto his back, bending his other arm behind his head. “I’d love for you to swallow. All of me. Whatever I give you.”
The need between my legs coils tighter. “ Gimme .”
“You gonna just say the word? Or you gonna show me how pretty you look with my dick in your mouth?”
I’m gripped by a full-body tingle. He’s being lewd. Obscene, even.
And I have never been more turned on in my life, even after the epic orgasm I experienced a minute ago.
It’s obvious this guy is crazy for me. He’s hanging by a thread. So instead of feeling demeaned by his assertiveness, I feel empowered.
I can do no wrong here.
In that vein, I get on all fours and crawl to his side of the bed. He watches me, eyes going dark as he strokes himself.
I swat away his hand, wrapping my own around his length. “This is for me, cowboy. Only me.”
He grits his teeth. “You best put your money where your mouth is.”
Grinning, I tuck my hair behind my ears and lick his tip. He groans, his hips jerking. I taste salt and heat. His skin is velvety here, soft to the touch.
I suck his head into my mouth. He puts a hand on the back of my head at the same moment I bob down, careful not to catch him with my teeth.
“That’s a good girl. Such a—” His breath catches and his abdominals contract when I take him deeper, his tip meeting the soft palate at the back of my throat. “ Jesus , you’re so good at this, Ava. I wanna see you gag. Think you can do that?”
I meet his eyes. Yes .
He pushes my head down. I take him as deep as I can, so deep that my gag reflex comes alive. My eyes water and he immediately takes his hand off my head. But I keep going.
I bob up. Down. I work his shaft with my hand, keeping a firm grip. He rocks his hips, letting out these little moans as he fucks my mouth.
“Aw, pretty girl, you got me so close already.” He puts a hand on my face. “I love the look of you with my dick in your mouth. Now show me how good you swallow, yeah?”
I increase my speed. So does he. Together we milk him until his hips jerk and he bites out, “Fuck. ”
A burst of salty heat fills my mouth. I continue to pump my hand as I swallow, and swallow, and swallow. There’s so much of him that I worry I’ll choke.
Just when I think I can’t take any more, his body goes limp. The barrel of his chest rises and falls as he struggles to catch his breath.
His eyes are on my face. It strikes me that he’s rarely taken them off me all night. Not at the honky-tonk. Not in the lobby. Not here in this bed. It’s like everything I do—my every movement, every expression—fascinates him.
When was the last time a guy wanted to know more about me?
When was the last time I wanted to share more?
Because I’m suddenly hit by the need to do exactly that—to explore every position, every limit. Every square inch of my body and his.
My heart hammers. Good thing Sawyer and I only have one night. Any longer, and I think I might fall in love with the guy.
Giving his tip one last, lingering kiss, I lift my own head.
“That good enough for you?” I tease.
He grabs my face. “Get up here, gorgeous.”
I let him pull me in for a kiss as I tuck my body in beside his. He doesn’t mind tasting himself, clearly. And I don’t mind it either. The kiss is soft, tinged with an earthy flavor that wasn’t there before.
We’re both breathing hard. I notice my skin is still sticky from the champagne. And, yeah, the sex too.
“You’re real good at what you do,” he murmurs into my mouth. “That was?—”
“Wild?” I laugh. “You’re welcome.”
He breaks the kiss. I open my eyes to see him looking at me, head turned on the pillow.
He’s finally smiling again. “I don’t know what I was expecting, but you just blew it all right out of the water.”
“Feels good, doesn’t it?” I run my hand over the wiry hair on his chest, snuggling closer to soak up his warmth. “To let go. Have a little fun.”
Sawyer scoffs. “That was more’n a little fun.”
I flush with pleasure. “It was a lot of fun.”
“The most fun I’ve had in a long-ass time.” He trails a hand down my arm, brushing his fingers across the swell of my breast. He must notice the stickiness too, because he says, “Any chance you’ll let me clean you up again? For real this time? Shower’s pretty awesome.”
I blink at the question. I didn’t realize until, well, right now that while I definitely want to stay for another round, I assumed I’d get dressed and get the hell out of here.
I definitely should get dressed and get gone. Nothing worse than a hookup who lingers, right? He’s probably just trying to be polite, the way most guys are when they really want you to leave.
I shift, trying to roll away from him. “As nice as that sounds, I should probably get going?—”
“Where do you think you’re runnin’ off to?” Sawyer’s hand wraps around my arm, keeping me close. “Stay. Please.”
Our eyes lock.
“Look, I totally get it if you want some peace and quiet?—”
“I want you. All night.” His blue eyes search mine, full of earnestness and heat. “We got two boxes of condoms to get through, remember? And a whole other bottle of champagne. You’re not gonna make me drink it by myself, are you? I understand if you wanna leave, but … yeah. I’d really like you to stay.”
My stomach flips. I don’t know Sawyer well—let’s be real, I don’t know him at all—but somehow, I know he’s not fucking around. He means what he says.
He really does want me to stay. And Lord help me, that fact gives me butterflies.
“You really don’t get out much, huh?” I ask.
He grins. “Nope. We gotta make this count. So come take a shower with me. I’ll clean you up so I can get you all messy again.”
“I like the sound of that.”
I scurry to the bathroom to pee while Sawyer cleans himself up with the tissues he found beside the bed. I nearly laugh when I see the shower. It’s huge, the size of my bedroom in the new apartment Junie and I will be moving into next week, with high glass walls and two showerheads.
I scurry back out to the room to grab a hair clip from my purse. Sawyer’s heading toward me, still naked. He’s holding a pair of frosty water bottles in his hands, which he must’ve plucked from a hidden mini fridge somewhere.
“Gotta hydrate if we’re gonna go all night,” he explains, setting one bottle on the bedside table so he can unscrew the cap from the other. He holds it out to me. “Don’t want you giving up on me, pretty girl. I got big plans for you.”
I look at the water. Look at him. I don’t know why this small gesture has my heart doing backflips—am I really that shocked when a guy is kind or engages in an act of service?—but for a full beat, I can only stare at him.
“Thanks,” I say at last, taking the water and drinking a good bit of it down in a single gulp. “God, that’s good.”
“Riding is thirsty work.” He smirks as he brings his own bottle to his lips.
“It is when I’m riding you.”
He runs a hand over his naked stomach. “You sayin’ I make you thirsty?”
“Very.”
I think I’ve been dying of thirst for a while, but being with you makes me feel like I’m dancing in the rain. Water is suddenly everywhere.
Sawyer splays his hand on the small of my back. “C’mon, let’s get this champagne off you.”
In the bathroom, Sawyer hangs a pair of fresh towels on the hooks beside the shower. He turns on the showerheads—both of them—waiting until the water is warm before stepping back to hold the door open for me.
“After you.” His dimples pop when he grins.
Surely he’s only this thoughtful—this motivated—because he’s trying to get laid again. Right? Because I don’t think I’ve ever met a man who does nearly as much as Sawyer’s done for me in the past few hours. First the club soda, the towels, and the replacement beers. Then the whole episode in the store downstairs where he took charge and paid for everything. Then the insistence that he make me come first, and the bottled water I didn’t know I needed, and now this—getting the shower ready so I don’t have to lift a finger.
I don’t know why I’m still shocked when Sawyer pulls a Sawyer and immediately starts to lather me up with deliciously scented body wash after we get in the shower. I giggle like a girl when his soapy hands linger on my breasts. I sigh when those hands move lower, gently working my pussy open. I put a hand on the thick ball of his shoulder to steady myself.
“You sore here?” His eyes flicker.
“A little. Nothing bad enough to keep me from going for round two.”
Sawyer arches a brow. Steam curls around him in a kind of hot, hazy halo. “What about rounds three and four?”
“Jesus, you really meant it when you said all night.”
“I mean everything I say.”
“So I’m— oh .” I dig my nails into his shoulder when his slippery fingers glide over my clit. “Learning.”
“You’re so responsive.” His eyes dart between mine. “Like a live wire, always ready.”
Swallowing, I manage to shake my head. “This doesn’t—I’m not like this usually.”
His gaze sharpens, as if he likes the idea that he’s the only one who gets me going this way. “What’s your story, pretty girl?”
I scoff, rolling my eyes as an excuse to look away. I’m not annoyed he keeps prodding, wanting to know more about me. In fact, I kind of like it.
Who am I kidding? I like it a lot. But like I said, this is how the trouble starts. A few innocuous questions, some great sex. Even better conversation. Then boom, suddenly I’m at someone’s mercy again.
Yeah, maybe I’m jumping the gun here. Making some assumptions that probably aren’t true. Really, you can’t get in that deep with someone over the course of one night.
But I’ve learned it’s always better to play it safe.
“My story’s boring.” I turn to pump body wash onto my hands. “I’m more interested in your story. Specifically, the one your body’s about to tell me.”
“You’re not as good as you think you are at changing the topic.” Water hits the crown of Sawyer’s head, ricocheting down his neck and shoulders as he looks me in the eye. “I mean that as a compliment.”
Of course you do, cowboy. Bet this Boy Scout’s never told a lie in his life.
He’s definitely never been divorced. I feel like cowboys are the one-and-done type. In my imagination, their promise to love and honor a woman is real. They respect her by pulling their weight at home, by being real partners who shoulder their fair share of the burden of raising a family.
I’m not sure a man like that actually exists. I have yet to meet one. My girlfriends and I all dealt with the same issue in our marriages, how we felt like we didn’t get nearly enough help from our husbands. I used to joke that I was a single married mom because I did literally everything. The nighttime wake-ups, the cooking, the cleaning, the scheduling. When I got pregnant, I told people I’d left the barrel racing circuit because I was ready to retire. But really, it was because I struggled so mightily to juggle my career and my pregnancy that something had to give.
That something was the job I loved. I was a damn good racer, and I’ve missed it. A lot. It’s one of the many reasons I’m thrilled to have landed this new gig at the Wallace Ranch. I truly can’t wait to start, even if I feel more than a little anxiety. Pardon the pun, but so much is riding on me doing well at the Wallace Ranch. I get child support and alimony from Dan, but it’s not enough to live on. I’m rebuilding my savings and retirement from scratch. This job has to work.
I have to succeed if I want to support myself and my daughter. I have big plans for Junie—college, grad school if she wants—and I need money to make those dreams come true.
Taking the wheel in my life after letting someone else drive for far too long has been liberating. I’m finally free, and it feels fucking fantastic.
The thrill of that freedom pounds through my bloodstream as I work my soapy palms over Sawyer’s massive shoulders. My hands move south, smoothing over the firm slopes of muscle that cover his chest and stomach.
“I like that about you,” I breathe, reveling in the way his abdominals clench beneath my touch, “how generous you are with your compliments.”
He grabs my wrist after I draw my fingertips over his nipple. “Generous, huh?”
The water is a smidge too hot. Or maybe that’s the way he’s looking down at me, something like adoration in his eyes as he guides my hand to his dick.
“In every sense of the word.”
He’s not hard, but his velvety warmth still fills my hand. His eyelids go heavy as I gently stroke him with slippery fingers. I’m not trying to get him worked up. I’m just exploring, touching.
This man loves to be touched, and I love how much he clearly appreciates it.
I love how wild his confidence in me makes me feel. He’s a filthy talker. What other fun, filthy things would he be into?
What other things am I into? I suddenly want to explore that, too.
His lips part. Water droplets catch on his eyelashes. “You keep playin’ with me this way, I ain’t ever lettin’ you leave.”
“Remember, we have not one, but two boxes of condoms to get through,” I say, parroting his line back to him. I cup his balls, gently kneading them. I put my other hand on his shoulder, my fingertips toying with his neck. “I could stay a while, sure.”
He groans. “Better get to it then, huh?”
“You in a rush?”
“No.” Searching my eyes, he loops his arms around my waist and crosses his wrists at the small of my back. His long, broad fingers tickle my ass. “And yes. How long you gonna let me have you?”
I grin, leaning in to kiss his mouth at the same time I thumb his tip. “Tonight is all we got, cowboy. Let’s make it count.”