32. Sawyer
CHAPTER 32
Sawyer
WRECKED
The second the door closes behind us at Ava’s place, I throw her over my shoulder and head for the bedroom.
“Hey!” She slaps my ass, hard. “You can’t throw me around?—”
“Like this?” I toss her onto the bed, the mattress giving her a little bounce. “Watch me.”
She toes off her boots. “I’m gross.”
“So am I.” I take off my hat and unbutton my shirt, tossing it onto the floor.
She unbuttons her jeans. “I really should shower.”
“You really should leave that hat on.”
I’m kicking off my own boots and losing my jeans and briefs. I’m hard as a fucking rock, and if I’m not inside Ava in the next thirty seconds I think I might literally have a heart attack. Watching Ava race tonight was torture in the best possible way.
She was determined. Graceful. Fierce. And the way she smiled after every race, a big, toothy thing that touched her eyes and made her look lit up from the inside?
Yeah, I’ve been hard for what feels like a small eternity.
Ava smirks, lifting her hips so she can slide her jeans and panties down the length of her legs. “I knew you liked the hat.”
Those legs . Jesus Christ.
Taking my dick in my hand, I stand beside the bed. “Open your fucking mouth and taste just how much I like it.”
Ava bites her lip. Then, using her knuckle to tip back her hat, she leans in and presses her lips to my tip. At the same time, she reaches up and runs her fingertips over my left nipple.
I jerk, seeing stars at the hot, soft feel of her mouth as she opens a little and licks my head. Giving myself a stroke, I watch her lap up a bead of pre-cum.
“Look at you, swallowing me like the greedy girl you are.”
“I am greedy.” Her eyes flick to meet mine. “I want all of you, cowboy.”
I lean down to kiss her, hard. I taste myself on her lips, the saltiness mingling with the clean flavor of her mouth. “You have me, pretty girl.”
Her fingers move to the Roman numerals tattooed on my chest.
“Ella’s birthday,” Ava murmurs. “Has to be, right?”
“Good guess. Best day of my life.”
She grins. “It really is, isn’t it?”
“Only started getting tattoos after becoming a dad. That weird?”
“That’s hot.”
“How hot? Open those legs and show me how wet I make you.”
Chuckling against my lips, she does as I told her. She scoots back a little on the bed, her knees falling open to reveal the hot pink heaven of her slit. She touches herself, her first two fingers gliding easily through her slickness as she moans my name.
I smile. Never gets old, hearing a gorgeous girl say your name when she realizes just how wet she is for you.
Giving myself another stroke, my balls tightening to an almost-painful degree, I climb onto the bed beside her. She takes my face in her hands and pulls me down for a deep, messy kiss.
Then, without warning, I feel something land on my head. Opening my eyes, I see that Ava’s not wearing her hat anymore.
I am.
“Hold up, hold up,” I say, cupping the crown of the hat in my hand. “I thought the saying was wear the hat, ride the cowboy ?”
Her eyes flash. “You clearly haven’t been hanging out with enough cowgirls. The saying works both ways—you wear my hat, you ride the cowgirl.”
“Question.”
“Shoot.”
“Can the cowgirl ride me too if I ask her?”
Licking her lips, she falls onto her back, her hair a golden halo around her head on the pillow. “Let’s see what kind of stamina you got.”
“Did you not see me tonight?” Climbing over her, I settle myself between her legs. “I didn’t ride near as well as you did, but I still rode hard. I ain’t a quitter.”
“You’re not.”
My heart cramps when she runs her fingertips tenderly through the hair on my chest.
“Love me, Sawyer. Please.”
“Aw, baby, like you even need to ask.” Hiking her knee up to my side, I lift my hips. “Put me inside you. I been dyin’ for this all night. All day.”
Ava wraps her hand around my swollen length and guides it to her center. My head meets with her softness, and I bite back a groan. The feel of her raw, her baring herself to me in a very real show of trust, has my blood blaring.
I capture her mouth in a bruising kiss, and she closes her eyes and kisses me back with equal fervor, her tongue gliding hungrily against mine. It’s like she’s drinking deep and still can’t get enough.
I prop myself up on one forearm and use my free hand to shove up her shirt and bra. Thumbing her nipple, I sink all the way inside her on a hard, unhurried stroke. The pressure and the pleasure are unreal.
Ava whimpers, her legs wrapping around me so that her heels are digging into my ass, urging me deeper. Her hand is on my face. The other is in my hair at my nape.
I get this feeling in the pit of my stomach. It’s a wild sense of certainty, one born of the searing need that rips through my blood. Right now, wrapped up in her body and the warmth of her bed, I’m gripped by the feeling that this woman is never, ever going to let me go.
“Look at me,” I growl into her mouth as I wrap my hand around her throat. “Open your eyes, pretty girl.”
Her eyes flutter open and lock on mine as I begin to thrust. I draw back, using my abdominals to keep the stroke steady and thorough as I pump into her. Then I swivel my hips at the apex of my thrust so I’m able to graze her clit. I use the hand I have on her throat to hold her still, my grip firm but gentle.
“ Honey .” Her eyes are hazy. “What lesson is this?”
“The one where you learn no one else is gonna fuck you like I do.”
I pull back, thrust forward. Her tits bounce. I move my hand from her throat, stopping to tweak her nipple before thumbing her clit.
“Where you learn you only wanna make love to me, because I ride as hard and as good as you do.”
Ava’s mouth falls open as her pussy contracts around me, making our fit so tight that it almost hurts. “You do. Honey, oh, you do .”
“Only me.”
I circle her clit faster. Her legs begin to shake. I rock into her in a steady, slow rhythm that has her eyes going heavy-lidded.
“Only you. Give it to me, pretty girl. Come. You’re close. Let go and let me catch you, yeah?”
Her fingertips graze my cheekbone as her eyes bore into mine. “Only if you let me catch you too.”
Too late. I’ve already fallen so fast, so hard.
We’re both sweating, our bodies getting slick, skin damp with exertion.
“Go, Ava,” I bite out. I shove inside her, pressing my thumb to her clit.
Clinging to me, she comes. Hard. Her back arches and her legs seize, her pussy contracting around my dick with such force that I come too. I paint her insides with my cum, hot spurts that have me howling her name.
Only when the rush subsides do I realize I’m lying in her arms, my weight pinning her to the mattress. Her hat is tipped all the way back on my head; I’m surprised it hasn’t fallen off.
“Aw, shit, Ava, I’m crushin’ you. I’m so sorry.” I push up on my elbows, propping up my weight.
But Ava immediately pulls me back down, her arm curling around my neck. “Don’t you dare go anywhere. I like feeling you this way.”
“Like you can’t breathe?” I chuckle.
She grabs the hat off my head and tosses it aside, trailing her lips up the column of my throat. “Like it’s just you, melting into me. Nothing else exists, only me and you and this bed.”
My chest twists. Pulse flutters.
Let me have you , I silently tell her as I kiss her mouth.
She kisses me back. I’m yours, cowboy.
* * *
Ava stirs beside me. The backs of my eyelids burn red.
Sunday morning. Late, if the ardent light is any indication.
I crack open an eye. Ava is stretching her arms over her head, the sheets falling to reveal her bare breasts. Her eyes are still closed.
She looks like a fucking angel. Well, a fallen angel, really, her hair mussed, her lips swollen and likely salty with the taste of me.
My heart pounds as I struggle for breath. How is this my life right now? A month ago, I was alone and overwhelmed, spinning my wheels.
Now I’m waking up in Ava Bartlett’s bed with a full heart and hard dick. I’m still overwhelmed. I still spin my wheels trying to juggle the different parts of my life.
But I’m not doing it alone anymore. And that makes all the difference.
Funny how the things I thought would make me happy—rings, a wedding, a picket fence—aren’t ultimately what bring me joy.
Joy is waking up next to the woman you love. Bonus points if she’s naked.
“Good morning,” she purrs, keeping her eyes closed.
I chuckle and reach for her breast, cupping it in my hand. “How’d you know I was awake?”
“Your dick is pressing into my leg. I was worried you were gonna start humping me in a minute here.”
“Nah. I think I’d rather do this.” I suck her nipple into my mouth, making her smile. Then I pull the sheets over my head and kiss my way down her belly. Settling myself between her thighs, I use my palms to spread her legs wider.
A moan of contentment sounds in her throat when I lick her slit, front to back. She smells like sex and tastes like heaven, and I have her coming on my mouth in record time, her hand fisting in my hair.
She’s still coming when I slip inside her, hiking her leg over my shoulder. My thrusts are savage. Deep.
Orgasm imminent, I pull out. Then I come with a shout on her tits.
Instead of being grossed out or annoyed by the mess, Ava pulls an Ava and smears my cum over one nipple, then the other, eyes on mine as she plays with herself.
Plays with us.
“You’re the only one I want,” I manage. “The only one I want body-slamming me.”
She bursts out laughing, her cheeks pink when she replies, “Thank God, because you’re the only one I wanna body-slam, honey. The only one.”
We take our time showering and getting dressed. I make the coffee, and Ava scrambles us some eggs while I butter toast and cut up a quart of strawberries.
We decide we’ll grill chicken for dinner here tonight—that way I’m around for Junie’s drop-off, and Ava isn’t left alone with Dan. Then I throw Ava’s sheets in the washing machine and fold the load of clothes she had in the dryer. I check in with Wyatt, who says Ella is out with Sally to see some baby goats.
“Wow,” Ava says after shutting the dishwasher.
I hear it hum as the cycle begins. “Wow what?”
“You and I just tackled pretty much my entire to-do list for today. Meal planning, laundry, pick up the house …”
Sauntering across the kitchen, I drape my arms around her waist and pull her to me. “Whatever shall we do with all our free time?”
She grins. “I think I’d like to ride.”
“Can I come too?” I kiss her neck. “Pun one hundred percent intended.”
“Well, yeah. But after that, I think I want to run some drills in the arena. Just me and Carter.”
I nip at her earlobe. “My legs are fuckin’ Jell-O right now, so good for you having that kind of energy. I’ll hit up the grocery store and then grab Ella. We’ll meet back here? Dan’s dropping June off at four, right?”
“Right.” Her eyes search mine. “I don’t know how you manage to keep getting sexier, but you do. You really, really do, Sawyer.”
“I try,” I say, and I mean that literally.
The longer I’m alive, the more I realize how important trying is. Screw talent. Screw words. I’m never gonna be the smartest or most accomplished guy in the room. But I am gonna try my damnedest to keep my people safe. I’m also going to let them keep me safe too.
Half an hour later, I climb in my truck and head down Highway 21 toward town. The weather’s warming up, so I crack my windows and sing along to the radio at the top of my lungs.
But seriously, who am I?
Since when am I the guy who fucking sings in my car on a Sunday afternoon?
I slow down when I hit downtown Hartsville. The grocery store is a little ways past the busiest stretch of Main Street, which isn’t busy at all right now. A few people mill around on the sidewalks, ducking into the Caffeinated Cowgirl or The Rattler for Tallulah’s famous bloody Mary bar.
I smile when I see a cute couple strolling past the library, their hands clasped between them.
Before, seeing people be all lovey-dovey like this would’ve made my chest tight. Why not me , I’d wonder. Why can’t I find my person?
Now I’m just happy for these people, whoever they are. My heart bursts with gratitude that shit’s finally happening for me. All the mistakes, the doubts and fears that kept me up at night—they led me here.
They led me to Ava. I’ll never take that stroke of luck for granted.
Out of habit, I slow down at the crosswalk, even though this part of Main Street is quiet. Satisfied that the coast is clear, I hit the gas and glance in my rearview mirror at that lovey-dovey couple one last time.
Bet Ava and I are that fucking cute too. Maybe even as sickeningly cute as Mollie and Cash, and Sally and Wyatt.
Turning my gaze back to the windshield, my stomach plummets when I see a little boy in a striped shirt dart out into the road. I hear his mother’s panicked scream just as I jam on the brakes and yank the wheel as hard as I can to the right.
Everything inside me heaves as my truck skids across the pavement, the tires making this terrible screeching sound. The mother—I think it’s the mother—darts out into the street too.
Oh God oh God this can’t be happening again.
Mom and Dad. The car not stopping. Is this what they felt when they realized it was too late?
My tires catch on the curb, and my stomach lurches into my throat as the truck goes airborne.
Please, God, don’t let me die now. Not when shit’s just getting good.
There’s a scream.
Then everything goes black.