Zelda
Sawyer lays on his back, his breathing settling down, and I curl up against his body, relishing the heat, tracing my fingers along the hard muscles of his abs.
My entire body feels like a fireworks show at its peak, warm and sizzling and with all the release I could ever have asked for.
He kept his word, all right. He fucked me until I thought that if I had even one more orgasm, I would die.
There were several times when I came close to breaking the rules, which I know that he brought along to put me at ease.
He might be a criminal, but he took one look at my parents’ house and knew.
He understood the weird contradiction I’m living in, an adult still living at home, and he turned it into something so hot I don’t know that I’ll ever recover.
“Wow.”
My hair is a mess, and I reach up and push some errant flyaway strands away from my face.
Sawyer leans down and kisses me on the forehead. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s what I like to hear.”
I twist my hips another few inches toward him so that I can weave my leg around his, and let out another satisfied breath.
He’s pulled up the sheets on top of us, and they’re cool and smooth against my skin.
My heart slowly settles into a regular rhythm again, but every so often it speeds up.
Having Sawyer this close is intoxicating.
He takes a deep breath, and his chest rises and falls under my cheek.
“Is something on your mind?”
There’s a little silence before he speaks, and my heart plummets into my gut. Whatever he’s about to say…
“Are you okay?”
“Yes.” I push myself up on one elbow and look down into his eyes. “Did I somehow give you the impression that this isn’t what I wanted? I don’t know how I could have done that, but—”
“No, not this.” His interruption saves me from an unknown amount of nervous babbling. “What happened earlier.”
It bubbles up again, that cold fear in the pit of my stomach, and Sawyer’s face changes along with mine. This is it. This is the thing that’s going to take the shine off what happened between us. And it probably should, because—
Because Sawyer, as much as I love being in bed with him, is probably a criminal.
“That was…” I lay my head back down. If this is the last time we’re going to be together, and it probably should be, then I’m going to try and enjoy what I can. “That was a really bad situation, Sawyer.”
“I know.”
“Does that—is that what happens every day in your job? And I don’t mean the guy with the rock. I mean going to people’s houses like that.”
“Yeah. That’s pretty much my job. Sometimes I might go with my boss to a party or a club, but mostly I’m paying house calls.”
“And then you have to beat people up?”
“Yes.” The word is a sigh, and underneath me his muscles relax a little more. This is the thing he hasn’t wanted to tell me, and now he has. Even if it’s the end for us, he’s still telling me. Which has to count for something. Only—
“You do that for a job?” There’s a funny ache in my chest when I think about it.
“I’m not worth much else, Zelda.” His voice has a strange tightness, and it makes me sit up again. “I told you, I’m good at it. It’s the perfect thing for me.”
“Why would you say something like that?”
He looks to the side, away from me. “I’m—” His jaw juts out, and then he pulls it back, works to rearrange his expression.
“Look, it felt—it felt good to get into that. After living with my dad all those years and being on the receiving end of a lot of brutal hits, it felt good to turn around and give it to somebody else. At least these people—” He squeezes his eyes shut, then forces them open again.
“I was going to say that these people deserve it, but I don’t know how—” He swallows hard.
“I don’t know how you’re going to look at me the same way now that you know what a piece of shit I am. ”
“I don’t think you’re a piece of shit. How could I?”
“Well, you should.” He’s tensing up, drawing away from me, and I don’t want it to happen. I’m still trying to find a way out of this, a way forward, because something in my soul is reaching for Sawyer all the time. My heart doesn’t want to let him out of my sight.
“It wasn’t your fault, though.”
“What wasn’t?”
“Your…your dad, what he did to you. It wasn’t your fault.”
“Maybe not.” His jaw works. “Maybe it wasn’t, or maybe I’ve always been a worthless asshole who deserved a few knocks.”
A hot frustration wells up in my chest. “You’re not a worthless asshole.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because I—” The truth is, I haven’t known him long enough.
I haven’t known him long enough for my opinion to carry any weight.
But in our conversations, he’s sweet and respectful, and he put himself in harm’s way rather than let anything happen to me.
“I’m not into worthless assholes,” I finish, forcing confidence into my voice.
“I wasn’t nice to your friend.”
“You could make that up to her.”
“You think I should stay around that long?”
“I think you should stay around forever.”
There it is. There’s the truth that’s been ringing like a bell in my mind since the first time I saw Sawyer.
He’s not perfect. He’s got a long way to go in his life to reach that.
But when I think about doing anything without him, living without him, it’s like picturing an endless series of rainy days.
I’ve fallen for him—hard.
And there’s nothing I can do about it, except try, in any way that I can, to make this work.
At least my words make a grin come to Sawyer’s face. “What the hell would I do in a place like Greenville?”
“I didn’t mean Greenville.” As I’m saying it, something else comes to me. “I don’t want to be here either. We could—” This is a pipe dream, and it’s probably a result of too much excellent sex. “We could go somewhere else. We could start over. It would be a risk, but we could do it.”
Sawyer wraps his arms around me, squeezing me tight. “You have nice dreams, Zelda.”
“They don’t have to be dreams. They could be real.”
His sigh tells a different story.