Chapter 7 Sawyer
SEVEN
SAWYER
“Icannot believe you did that,” Skye says, grinning so widely it makes dimples appear on her cheeks. “Seriously. Thank you.”
My heart clenches, warming with that strange feeling again. Ducking my head, I try to ignore it, moving to the sink to wash our dinner dishes. “It was no problem.”
“You might say that,” she says, brushing her hand against mine, “but I mean it. Thank you.”
She’s acting like I did something groundbreaking when all I did was fix a broken phone, but maybe to her, it was actually helpful.
She spent nearly two hours between her sister at the ER, her best friend up the mountain, and her cousin, who was supposed to be in Denver, but had arrived home in time to pull a shift at the hospital.
I hadn’t meant to listen in, but it was hard not to in such a small space.
At least she told them about the cramps from yesterday. That’d been my only concern, and if she hadn’t said anything, I might have called Noah and brought it up to him. It might have been none of my business, and I should know better than to stick my nose into things that didn’t concern me, but…
Skye does concern me.
Maybe it’s the strange protective instincts I can’t seem to escape or the overwhelming desire to just be in her presence, but I’ve made her my concern whether I like it or not. And that’s not an easy feat—or something I can run away from now.
Not with the feeling of her lips still fresh on mine. Not when I can still imagine how it felt to have her so close, to breathe her in, and every reaction she’s pulled out of me since.
I clear my throat, looking down at our hands. She has hers resting gently over mine, not quite committing to the hold, but also not ready to pull away. When I glance up, her eyes are already on me, cheeks flushed an adorable shade of red, bottom lip pulled between her teeth.
All logical thought disappears from my brain as I consider what it might be like to feel those lips again.
Would she taste like the Twizzlers she’s been eating without me knowing?
Or does she taste like the red sauce from our pasta?
I already know she’ll taste like temptation and sin, a combination I’ll get drunk on but know can’t last.
If I know what’s good for us both, I’ll take my hand back and refocus on the dishes. Tell her to go put her feet up and leave the cleaning to me.
Instead, she grabs the rag off the stove and starts drying dishes quietly beside me, smiling to herself as she does, and I can’t bring myself to speak.
It feels a little too nice simply existing alongside her. And that’s a dangerous thought to have when I know it can’t last—that it shouldn’t.
Not with my scars and past hanging over me.
The howling wind does nothing to drown out the movement from the bedroom. I try to remain still, pretending like I can sleep when all I’m thinking about is her. But when the bedroom door opens, I sit up immediately.
Skye waddles out with her hair pulled up in a bun, her sweater askew and my sweatpants rolled up at the ankles. When she notices me, she comes to a stop and pouts. “I can’t sleep,” she says, planting her hands on her hips. “Are there anymore pillows or blankets I can use?”
I swing my feet over the edge of the sofa and rise, frowning. “What’s wrong? Are you cold?”
She shakes her head slowly, exhaustion darkening her eyes. “My back is killing me,” she mutters. “I have a very strategic setup at home for support, but I can’t really do that here.”
My heart lurches, stomach twisting as I stalk towards her. The next statement I make takes me by surprise. “I’ll stay with you.”
Skye’s eyes widen, her head tilting back so she can meet my stare. I wait for her to refuse and tell me to go screw myself, but when she doesn’t, relief and something else pours into me.
“Okay,” she murmurs, nodding once. “Just to support my back.”
“Just to support your back,” I repeat, swallowing hard.
I wonder if she knows it’s a lie. That I want to get closer to her.
If she does, she says nothing, just turns and leads me into the bedroom. I wait until she’s on the bed, watching as she slips beneath the heavy comforter and rolls onto her side with a groan.
“Tell me where you want me,” I say, closing the door.
Her gaze finds mine in the darkness, the only light coming from the lamp beside the bed. Her eyes shine, though I can’t read her expression as she pushes the wall of blankets and pillows away. “It’s a little…intimate,” she says, cheeks darkening. “But can you spoon me?”
I’m thankful my cock doesn’t immediately go hard, especially as I crawl into the bed behind her and pull the blanket over us. Nestled in behind her, all I feel is the heat of her body. It burns through me, though not uncomfortably. There’s something about it that offers me relief.
I curl around her back. “Like this?” I ask, voice low.
Skye shudders, the movement making me tense. “Y-yes,” she stutters. “Like that.”
I try to settle in, but the heat, as well as the way she presses against me, has my heart racing and dick rising to attention. Whether or not she means to, her ass digs into my crotch, and every slight movement is like a test of strength and a testament to my control.
Because for the first time ever, I feel myself coming undone.
I rest my hand over the swell of her stomach like it might stop me from delving lower.
Skye stiffens at the touch initially, but eventually melts into me, all the tension loosening from her body.
Except it isn’t the same for me. All I feel is my pounding heart and the tightening desire in my lower stomach.
All I know is that I won’t be sleeping tonight.
Not when I have her in my arms and this can’t last.
Over the howling wind, I listen to our breaths; mine heavy as I maintain control, hers short as she tries to fall asleep. When I think she’s slipping away, Skye makes a sound in the back of her throat and pushes into me.
Her ass connects almost painfully with my dick, nestling almost too perfectly against my pelvis. I bite down on a groan, especially as she shifts again, this time almost stroking me as she moves.
My hand goes to her hip to stop her. “I don’t know what you’re doing,” I growl through gritted teeth, heart racing. “But you’re going to kill me if you keep moving.”
Skye stops, lifting her head to look back at me as I rise onto my elbow to hover over her. “Sorry,” she whispers, chewing that bottom lip again. “I didn’t realise…” She trails off as she wiggles again, eyes going wide. “Oh.”
I know I should feel embarrassed, maybe even a little ashamed, but I can’t bring myself to.
A flush rises on her cheeks again, but she doesn’t look away. “Sawyer?”
I swallow hard past the lump rising in my throat. “Yes?”
Her lashes flutter, and for a moment I wonder if she’s going to kick me out of bed. She should. She deserves better than me coming in here and getting hard just by lying with her.
Instead, she covers my hand with her own and moves it below her belly to her thighs. A shiver rolls through me at the contact, at the meaning. I keep my eyes locked on hers as she brings my fingers to her mound.
Maybe I shouldn’t be surprised by what passes her lips, but my breath lodges in my throat from her request. “Touch me.”
There is no hesitation. I dip my face to hers and claim her lips in a hard kiss. There’s nothing soft, nothing exploratory or gentle about it. Everything I’ve been feeling since she kissed me pours out of me, and there’s nothing to stop me from showing her how I feel.
I swipe my tongue against hers, drawing out a long moan as I slide my fingers beneath the waistband of her sweats.
She wears nothing underneath, giving me full access to her dripping pussy.
I push past a tuft of her hair and enter her warmth, circling my fingers around her hardened clit.
Skye bucks into my hand, another sound falling from her lips, barely contained by our kiss.
As I toy with her clit, I break away, breathing hard.
“God, you’re already fucking soaked,” I tell her, sliding my fingers through her arousal and skimming them down to her entrance.
“When was the last time you came?” Skye bucks into my hand, seeking relief, but I stop at her entrance and tease it with the tip of my fingers.
“When was the last time you were touched by anyone but yourself?”
She pants, eyes finding mine. “I can’t remember,” she breathes, stilling, chest heaving. “A long time.”
Dipping my face close to hers, I slowly enter her channel. A breath lodges in her throat as her eyes roll back. “I’m going to make you come,” I whisper, running my nose up the column of her throat, breathing in the scent of my soap still fresh on her skin. “Then you’re going to rest.”
“Sawyer—”
I cut her off with another kiss as I fuck her. Each thrust of my fingers has her bucking in my hand, more of her desire pooling in my palm. I keep each stroke slow, making sure I feel every inch of her. I note every flutter of her walls, each time she clenches her thighs around my arm.
Skye moans against my lips, hiking her leg up so I have better access to her core, almost rolling into my chest as she does. Gently, I use my palm to rub her clit. Another surprised sound falls from her lips before I feel the moment she comes undone.
Her pussy clenches, trapping my fingers inside her as she floods my hand with her release. I coax her through it, peppering soft kisses down her throat as she pants, thighs trembling.
“That’s it,” I murmur, dropping my forehead to hers. “So good.”
She huffs, leg dropping to trap my hand against her heat. “I think I’m supposed to be the one to say that.”
I chuckle. “Probably.”
When I pull back, I find her smiling, eyes bright. “Baby girl and I like the way you laugh.”
I stiffen, heart racing. “You do?”
She nods once before curling her arm around mine, despite it still being locked in her pants. “Yeah. It suits you.”
A lump forms in my throat as I settle in behind her. Somehow, I wedge my other arm beneath her head, trapping her tightly against me. But I can’t manage a response.
“Sawyer?” she asks after a moment of silence.
“Yeah?”
“Your hand is still in my pants,” she whispers, “and you still have a boner.”
Again, I can’t help but laugh. As I slide my hand out from between her thighs, I kiss her neck. “Go to sleep.”
Skye laughs to herself as she settles back, leaning into my chest. “Good night, Sawyer.”
“Good night, Skye,” I whisper, moving my hand to her belly. “Good night, baby girl.”