33. Sawyer
Sawyer
I think I’m fucked. Actually, no, I know I’m fucked. This woman lying naked underneath me, looking perfect, flushed and still eager for me, has me completely bewildered about what I saw in every other woman who came before her.
As she catches her breath, I reach over to my side table and grab a condom, sheathing myself quickly.
“I’m so fucking hard for you, it hurts,” I admit. I’m so close to coming just from her little moans and the way she responded to my fingers.
“We can fix that,” she teases, and I grin like a fool. God, I would do anything for this woman. I would buy her land, I would punch a guy at a bar, and I sure as hell am going to make her forget about it, just like she asked.
“Lift your hands above your head,” I demand, and she complies immediately as she bites her bottom lip in anticipation. When she moves, her body arches in that way that makes me nearly feral for her, her breasts full, her curves so sexy. “Spread your legs, baby. Let me in.”
Again, she does as I ask, all with a coy smile. I lean over, settling in between her thighs as I grab on to her wrists above her head with one hand. As I slide into her slowly, her eyes roll back, enjoying the stretch of me as I grit my teeth, willing myself not to come straightaway.
“Fuck yeah…” I breathe out as I start to move. She feels amazing, she looks amazing. She is amazing, and she’s with me. Here in my bed, doing what I ask of her, and me giving her what she needs.
“Oh God, I love when you go deep like that,” she moans as I thrust inside of her, feeling her body clench around me, watching as her breasts jiggle with every thrust.
“You feel so goddamn good,” I grit out, my other hand lowering to her leg and lifting her knee up, sinking into her deeper and making her gasp.
“Sawyer… yesssss. Right there,” she pants, her eyes locking on mine, and my balls tighten.
“I want to fuck you like this every day. Every fucking day…” Letting go of her wrists, she keeps them in place, gripping on to the sheets above her, and I grab her other knee.
Pushing her legs wide, I fuck her nice and hard, as deep as I can go, relishing her whimpers and pants as her body tenses beneath me.
I watch her second orgasm start to build as she bites her lip, trying to hold back her moans as her head pushes back, body arching. She’s close, and so am I.
“I want to taste you every morning, finger-fuck you every lunchtime, and then make you squeeze my cock like this every night.” I’m dizzy with desire for her. I can’t get enough of her. I’m currently inside her and already wanting so much more.
“Every day. Oh, oh God.” Her voice grows louder, but the kids are asleep, and there are a few rooms between us, so I let her cry out as she comes, my name on her lips, and I follow her instantly.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck. Annabelle!” I groan, the sound rumbling from deep in my chest as her body clenches on to mine, before she lies back, spent, a light sheen to her forehead. Leaning over, exhausted, I trail small kisses all over her, everywhere I can reach without moving.
She giggles, her arms wrapping around me. “That tickles.” Her body jolts a little as I kiss her side.
“Where? Here?” I ask her, doing it again, enjoying hearing her laugh after what has been an emotional night.
“Sawyer!” she squeals and bats lightly at my shoulders, balling up. I grab her then, carrying her to the bathroom, and we hit the shower, washing the day away together. And because I can’t help myself, I fall to my knees, wanting another taste of her before bed.
We lie next to each other, the house quiet, the faint glow of the moon slithering into the room.
We fell asleep as soon as we got back into bed after the shower, but it’s now just after three in the morning, and we’re both awake.
The two of us were hungry for each other after a few hours of rest, and now, after having her come on my tongue again, we’re relaxed and cozy.
“Do you see your mom much anymore?” she asks as her fingers trail along my abs.
“Holidays and a few trips each year. She has a lot of friends, keeps pretty busy. She’s busier than Sutton and me sometimes.” I huff a laugh, thinking about it. My mom and retirement go well together.
“That’s nice. I miss my mom. She used to make the best cornbread.”
I smile, knowing she doesn’t get to talk like this with anyone, and I like being the person she shares things with.
“You’re the best cook I know.”
“Hmm, no matter how hard I try, I just can’t get my cornbread the same as hers.”
I press a kiss into her hair, where she lays with her head on my chest, my hand caressing up and down her arm, keeping her close.
“I don’t even cook, so you’ve beaten me there.”
“Tell me your favorite food,” she says, and I’m surprised we haven’t talked about this before.
“Yours,” I say immediately.
“Sawyer!” she scolds me, laughing. “Really, tell me.” I feel her grinning against my skin.
“It’s the truth. I mean, the pasta at Mario’s in Manhattan is pretty good, but I’ve loved everything you’ve cooked for me so far.”
“Did none of your other girlfriends cook for you?”
We haven’t delved into our pasts too much, although I know more about hers than she does about mine.
“Haven’t really had many girlfriends. You’re the first one in a while.”
“Mm-hmm. Okay. Now I know you’re lying.”
“It’s the truth. I date, sure, but I haven’t committed myself to someone, been exclusive with someone for a long time.”
“Who was your last girlfriend?”
I take a deep breath. “My last serious girlfriend was actually my fiancée.”
“Oh? What happened?” She looks up at me, and I pull her tighter, not wanting her to feel any different about all this, but needing to share, especially since she’s been so open about her late husband.
“We were together for a few years, engaged for about one.” I clear my throat, and she remains silent, so I continue. “It was when I was young, late twenties, about your age.” At a decade older than her, I’m more her senior, but it’s an issue we don’t seem to have.
“What was her name?”
“Mandy. We met at college, and she was a nice girl. But I had to work long days and nights to prove myself at the law firm where I was working. They make all new graduates do grunt work, but I enjoyed it. I always had a vision of owning my own firm, you know.”
Her brow furrows, her eyes curious. “Why didn’t you get married?”
I lift my hand, running my fingers through her hair, pushing it from her face so I can see her clearly.
“I had an issue with work. Lost an important case. The client, he was a bad guy. Made our lives difficult, scared Mandy, the pressure of it all was too much. For both of us. So she walked away, and I let her.”
“Walked away?”
I nod, knowing that a woman like Annabelle wouldn’t walk away from anything, no matter how hard things got. It’s one of the reasons I’ve completely fallen for her. I know that if we continue what we’re doing, that she’ll always have my back and, I, hers.
Pursing her lips in thought, she asks, “How did he make your lives difficult? What happened?”
I blow out a breath. “He went to jail for murder. Still there, got twenty years. So he hated me, a young lawyer who lost his case and didn’t prevent him from serving jail time.”
“But he was the bad guy. He can't blame you.”
“Well, he did. Had his men follow and threaten Mandy a bit. It never got physical, but she was scared to leave the house and just didn’t want that life.
I mean, the life of a lawyer is hard. Sure, there’s money, fancy dinners and events, lots of good sides, but in criminal law, especially, there can be serious ramifications. ”
“But you still do criminal law after that?”
“A little, but nothing major. I prefer business law, so while I have a small criminal team, I think now that I’m here in Whispers, I might focus solely on commercial and contract law,” I say what I’ve been thinking about out loud.
It’s been a long time coming. I should’ve closed that division years ago really.
“Sounds safer…” Her voice is unsure, and I understand her worries.
“Not really. Business law can be tough. I have this one client; she makes soaps and, you know, she’s just really bad at accepting any help. Drives me crazy,” I tell her, grinning playfully.
“Really? She sounds delightful. Tell me more about her?” she teases, making me laugh as I pull her close and kiss her like she deserves. Because this woman in my arms deserves the world, and I want to be the man who gives it to her.