Chapter 37 Silent Treatment
Silent Treatment
Wes
One look at Sawyer’s face when I stepped back into the hall told me everything I needed to know.
I’d fucked up. She couldn’t keep that fire raging underneath the surface from her expression, and I’d expected her to read me the riot act the second we got into my car.
Instead, she’d stayed silent for the last hour, freezing me out rather than letting her anger scorch the earth.
I much preferred her usual way of handling her ire. At least when she yelled at me, I knew exactly what she was thinking. But the silent treatment? I hated being given the cold shoulder, especially by Sawyer.
I knew she was upset about Hannah, but I wasn't sure if her anger was directed at me or if the entire situation had just shaken her. I hadn’t intended to break my promise to stay by her side all night, but I needed Hannah to understand that things between us were truly over.
I couldn’t go back to the kind of relationship I had with Hannah after seeing how different things could be with someone else. Or maybe it was just that things were different with Sawyer.
Once I’d made that clear, Hannah had broken down, and I’d gotten her an Uber to make sure she got home safely. I hadn’t been choosing Hannah over Sawyer—I’d been drawing a line in the sand so Hannah wouldn't cross it again.
I didn’t want Hannah back. Hell, I’d never really wanted her back.
I’d only lamented the disappointment I’d caused, the time spent in a relationship that had been so easy to throw away.
But even that regret had faded. Because without that breakup, who knows if I’d have ever made my way back to Cottonwood Creek? If I’d have ever seen Sawyer again?
And that fact was unthinkable. Suddenly, the reality of being without Sawyer was bearing down on me impossibly fast.
I wasn’t ready. Might never be ready. But I definitely wasn’t letting this be our last night together.
When the silence becomes unbearable, I finally speak up. “I’m sorry about Hannah.”
Sawyer’s face is impassive as she stares out the window into the dark. There’s nothing to see but sandhills and the sporadic herd of cattle.
“Things are over between me and Hannah. I don't want her back. You know that, right?” Hannah had wanted to get under Sawyer's skin. Just like she’d worn the damn ring I’d bought her to get under mine.
Sawyer glances my way, nods once and goes back to staring out the window. I can’t stand the careful, icy indifference. I want her fire and her anger. I don’t mind if I get a little singed around the edges, but I can’t abide her freezing me out the way she is.
I pull into her drive, and she still hasn’t said more than two words to me the whole damn ride.
I wasn’t leaving until we had a fucking conversation about this.
We were adults, for Christ’s sake. I wouldn’t let this fester and ruin everything between us.
This wouldn’t be the last thing she remembered about me when I left.
“God damn it, Red. Talk to me,” I say as I turn the car off. “I know you’re mad, but for the life of me, I can’t figure out if you’re pissed at me or at Hannah or at the whole damn situation.”
“Why do you care what I’m pissed about?” she mutters before climbing out of the car.
I release a relieved breath since she's finally speaking in more than one-word sentences. I follow her to the front door. “Because I want to know what to apologize for.”
“An apology isn’t going to make it all better, Wes.” She drops her heels by the door and turns on the lights before making her way to her bedroom.
“I know. I—” I make to follow her into the bedroom, but she halts me with a raised hand and slams the door in my face.
I can’t help but smirk at the closed door. At least she’s talking to me. I can handle a bit of temper thrown my way.
I wait by her door patiently, stripping off my suit jacket and button-down, laying them on the couch. A minute later she comes out changed to do night check.
“I had no idea Hannah would be there,” I say, continuing our conversation. “If I’d known my mom invited her, I wouldn’t have brought you.”
She whirls around, pinning me with a glare. Fire burns bright and wild behind those blue eyes, and I cringe as I replay my words.
Why do I have such a propensity to say the wrong thing?
“That came out wrong. It’s not what I meant.” I backtrack before she can kick me out.
“Oh, really?” She pushes past me, slipping into her boots and storming outside as the screen door slams in her wake.
I follow her outside. “Yes, really. I meant neither of us would have gone had I known she would be there.”
“Right. Because then you wouldn’t have had to explain me away to your ex-fiancée.
You could’ve come back in another week, free and clear, and walked right back into Hannah’s arms. Too bad for you, she won’t buy the whole 'I spent the last few weeks pining away alone' story now that you brought a date to your mom’s party.” She fills water buckets as she speaks, never once slowing down or sparing me a glance.
Exasperation builds in my chest. “I’m done with Hannah. I don’t care about her.” I toss hay into the feeders despite my lack of work clothes. The cold air seeps through my undershirt, but the best way to keep warm is to keep working.
“For someone who doesn’t care about her, you sure spent plenty of time talking to her alone while I was left at your mom’s party by myself.”
“I left you with my sister,” I point out, attempting a lighter tone.
“That is so beside the point, Wes,” she growls. “The point is, you still have feelings for your ex.”
Heat creeps down my spine. “No, I don’t.”
“Don’t fucking lie to me, Wes.”
I had expected Sawyer to take me at my word when I said I was done with Hannah, but apparently, she thought I was a damn liar.
I might be an idiot, leaving my date at my mom’s party while I walked my drunk ex out so she wouldn’t cause a scene, but I was not a liar. And the fact that Sawyer believed otherwise? That pissed me off.
“Why else would you walk her out and talk to her for twenty minutes after promising me you wouldn’t leave my side all night?” she demands, pushing past me into the tack room.
I follow her in, leaning against the wall of saddles as she sorts through supplies on the table. Bridles hang in a neat row behind it, and her movements are sharp and agitated.
The question isn’t rhetorical, so I start to answer, “Because I—”
But Sawyer wheels around and cuts me off mid sentence, pinning me with that fiery glare.
“If things aren’t finished between you two, I get it. I know it’s hard to be done when you’ve been with someone for a long time, but don’t lie to me about it. I’m a big girl. I can handle it if the guy I’ve been fucking is in love with somebody else.”
“Jesus Christ." My patience snaps. "Would you quit calling me a liar? I’m trying to explain—”
“You don’t owe me anything, Wes. I don’t need an explanation, okay? We’ve always had an expiration date on this thing.”
I wanted her to talk before. Now, she won’t shut up long enough for me to get a damn word in.
I step further into the room, crowding her against the table. “Do I need to shut you up with my cock, or will you behave and let me talk?”
Her chin tips up defiantly, but her mouth stays shut, jaw clenched tight.
I pinch her chin gently between my thumb and forefinger.
“I’m not in love with Hannah. I told her I wasn’t interested in getting back together because there was someone else I had feelings for.
I thought it would be cruel to tell her that in a room full of people—right in front of the woman I’m falling for. ”
Sawyer’s blue eyes go wide. She tries to look away, but her chin is still caught in my grip and I’m not about to let her go.
Her throat bobs as she swallows. “Don’t you think we’re too old to be dragging this thing out when we both know it can’t go anywhere?”
Did I believe that?
No. I didn't.
We'd been together for mere weeks, but she had seen the parts of me I'd buried under suits and quiet compliance for over a decade. And I'd seen her just as clearly. I met her fire with my own and loved every second of it.
I arc my thumb along her jaw and stare into the bottomless depths of her eyes, every inch of my skin prickling with the need to have her right now. “I’m old enough to know better than to throw away something this good and pretend it’s nothing.”
Her lips part—stunned, caught off guard by my words.
"Oh."
Well, that shut her up.
“Yeah, oh. If you’d have let me talk sooner, you could have saved your voice for something more entertaining, like screaming my name.”
She drops her eyes as her cheeks go pink. “I shouldn’t have—”
I shut her up with a finger against her lips.
“I’ll take you every single way I can have you. Sweet. Sassy. Wild. Gentle. It doesn’t make a difference to me. I’ll want you regardless.”
I grip her hips and lift her onto the narrow table before ravishing her mouth with mine. Her legs wrap around my waist, and I dig my fingers into the flesh of her backside as her lips part on a heady sigh that sends blood straight to my cock.
My hands slide under her sweatshirt, and I follow the curve of her breast with my thumb, making her shudder under my touch.
She pulls her sweatshirt over her head, and I take a moment to enjoy how soft she looks out here in the warm light of the tack room.
She’s practically glowing, an ethereal beauty.
Her copper hair falls gently over her shoulder, and I reach out to tuck it behind her ear before leaning down to suck her nipple into my mouth while my hand grasps her other breast.
When she squirms, I leave a trail of kisses up her neck and find her lips again, soft and pliant and warm. Her arms wrap around my neck, pulling me closer as I slowly devour her. She tastes like whiskey, and the richness of it makes me want her even more than I already do.
I want this woman in the worst way possible. I want more than just her body. After weeks of trying to convince myself that we were just having a good time, she’s taken my heart, and I’m dying to have hers in return.
"This means something to me, Sawyer. You mean something to me. I won't let a misunderstanding ruin it. Let me make it up to you."
She nods, eyes wide, and I claim her mouth with mine once more.
Her tongue glides past my lips, and I growl low in my throat.
It only serves to spur her on. Her fingers play with the hem of my undershirt, and then she’s tugging it over my head, desperate to have her skin against mine.
My shirt lands on the floor, and I immediately yank her sweatpants off in one smooth motion.
My hands trail down her arms, my fingers threading through hers before I pin them above her head in a tangle of bridles. My eyes snag on the rope that hangs on the wall behind her.
Before I can rethink it, I capture her wrists in one hand and grab the rope with my other. Once it’s in place, I tighten the lariat and wrap it around her wrists a few more times for good measure, knotting it before I attach it to the hook again, stringing her up in front of me.
Her eyes are alight with desire, and I’m so damn hard it hurts. Her back arches and her bare breasts thrust forward, her sex, swollen and begging for attention, as the flush of her desire creeps up her chest.
“Damn, Red. I can’t take my eyes off you. You’re so damn pretty trussed up like that, pussy on display for me.”
“Wes.” She clamps her thighs together, searching for something to take the edge off the ache of lust. “If you don’t touch me soon, I’m gonna die.”
I chuckle at her conundrum. She’s all tied up with no way of getting off unless I oblige her. It’s tempting to make her wait it out, but the warm weather has turned cool, and I don’t want her shivering from anything but her need for me.
I click my tongue at her. “Spread ‘em, Sawyer. I want to see you.” I grip her thighs and coax them apart.
“Fuck, Wes.”
She’s dripping as I slip two fingers inside of her. Her low moan is music to my ears, and I can’t help but groan at the sweet sound of it.
Her heels dig into the side of the table as she meets my thrusts with her own. I settle a hand on her hip and pump my fingers into her slower, wanting to draw this out a little. Her inner walls clamp down on me, and all I can think about is how good she would feel on my cock.
I slip out of her, painting her clit with her arousal as I draw tight circles that have her twisting and panting with need.
“Fuck. Please, Wes.”
“Are you begging for me again, Red?”
“Stop your gloating and fuck me. Please?”
“So sweet and polite when you’re all tied up with nowhere to go.” I pull away from her clit and drag my fingers over her lips, parted in something between agony and bliss.
She sucks them into her mouth, her tongue twirling around them wickedly to clean herself off of them.
“God damn, Red.” I unbuckle my belt and let my pants fall to the ground. Her eyes go heavy lidded as I extricate myself from my boxers and slide through her wetness.
I close my eyes and exhale on a groan. “Shit. I want you.”
When my eyes blink open, she meets my gaze. “You have me.”
“Thank fuck.” I breathe a sigh of relief as I line up at her entrance and slide home.
She feels like pure heaven, and I don't think I’ll ever be able to leave because I never want this feeling to end.