Chapter 4
CHAPTER
FOUR
Nova
I wake up with a jolt. For a second I take a beat to remember where I am and why I’m so hot. Then it all comes flooding back.
Last night.
The rescue.
Sawyer’s bed.
I face away from Sawyer; his arms are wrapped around me. It feels nice. My t-shirt rode up in the night and barely covers my ass. I’m not even going to pretend that isn’t his wood pressed up against my lower back, and it makes my pussy sing.
I didn’t think it would be difficult being in bed with Sawyer, but I’m not completely clueless; I’ve got eyes, I can see he’s hot.
His body is a freaking temple, and I know I peppered him with questions about his love life, but I don’t know all that much about any personal stuff because he’s always at work, or somewhere else other than the clubhouse.
That’s why I wanted to know about the sweet butts.
If he doesn’t do it there, where does he do it?
And how does one have sex when Sawyer doesn’t like to be touched.
I’m not gonna lie, I like the idea he doesn’t find them attractive.
I don’t even know why they have that grossed out tradition, anyway.
Women should have a little more self respect, but I shouldn’t be judging; the life I’ve lived thus far hasn’t always been rosy.
I don’t blame them for wanting to belong to something, or someone.
I guess I’ve always been a bit of a free spirit in that way, and I don’t apologize for it.
I’ve long since realized I don’t need a man in my life to make it complete.
Eventually, maybe I’d like to date again, but I’ve come so far this last year that I’d never give up my freedom or values for a guy. Not gonna happen.
The last time Bobby beat me, I took off.
I knew if he ever found me I’d be dead, and the only reason I’m not is because I got arrested and his stash was in my bag.
I believe he planted it there, but I can’t prove anything.
What annoys me the most is how I believed all his bullshit.
Why was I so gullible? Of course, he was charming in the beginning.
Aren’t they all? Then his true colors showed, and by then, I was in denial.
I thought I was made of tougher stuff, but I’ve come to realize that with matters of the heart, I’m clearly a bit of a sap.
That’s why I like being single. I don’t have to think about a man and his needs or what he wants.
I’m living for me, and if someone wants to date me, then they’d better come up to the standard I’ve set myself, because I refuse to go back.
I frown when Sawyer stirs, his hand shifts and moves up over my breast. Holy mother of God.
He cups me, squeezing as my eyes roll back and I swallow hard. Man, that feels good.
I know he’s asleep because A. Sawyer would never touch me like that, not without asking, even then… B. The rise and fall of his breathing shouldn’t be so familiar to me, but it is. He’s in a deep sleep.
I let my mind wander to what it would feel like if he just slipped inside of me and we stayed like that.
Holy shit. Why? Why would I freaking do that to myself because I’m already getting slick between my legs?
Then I let my mind really wander. I’d let him touch me under the t-shirt, flicking my nipple until I couldn’t stand it anymore and I’d beg for his mouth on me.
Sucking. Nipping. Licking. Yes. I could handle that.
I could handle anything my beautiful Sawyer has to offer.
Not that it’ll ever happen. He had the perfect opportunity last night to undress me, and he didn’t. He didn’t do any of that.
Holding me in his arms was a mixed bundle of torture and frustration.
I’m still a woman, and I still have needs.
Needs that my bullet have been providing more and more frequently.
Part of finding myself again was staying away from guys and one-night stands.
I haven’t had that many, but enough to make me realize that what I really want is love. Someday.
I want somebody to lie like this with me, cuddling together, feeling warm and safe.
But that doesn’t exist because Sawyer is damaged, just as I am.
In my world, I fantasize about my best friend.
I know he likes me, but not the way I like him.
I encourage him, and I flirt, I can’t help it.
When Sawyer kisses me, I forget about anything else going on in the world.
He takes every single problem and minimizes it just by listening and being there.
He’s sweet: coming to get me, making me Pop Tarts and letting me crash in his bed. I don’t feel worthy of him…
I gasp when his thumb brushes over my nipple. Oh my god.
“Sawyer,” the words slip out. I slap a hand over my mouth, not wanting this to be over. I don’t want to wake him up. I want him to keep touching me.
I want to make him feel good too, but I fear that can’t happen.
Sawyer is a closed book when it comes to affection.
He lets me wrap my arms around him, cup his face, and kiss him.
Heck, I’ve sat in his lap once before, too, but I’ve never done anything more.
His body is off limits, and while that is wildly frustrating, I also understand.
My body was off limits too, but that didn’t stop people I trusted from taking it when they wanted.
No, Nova. Don’t ruin it.
I close my eyes, not wanting those haunting memories to return. I know I should wake him—he’d be mortified to find out he’d manhandled me, but I can’t help it. In my dream, he’d move that hand lower, cupping my pussy as he plays with me and brings me to orgasm so quickly, just with rubbing.
“Yes,” I whisper when his thumb moves again, back and forth. I am going to come.
He has the ability to do just that, and then I’d really have to try and be quiet.
I don’t mean to, but I lean back, my ass accidentally grinding against his cock as I do.
My eyes spring open. I didn’t even peek last night when he was getting changed, but something tells me Sawyer would have a perfect dick to go along with his perfect body.
I feel like I’m in paradise. Never have I been more frustrated than I am right now, and I’m in Sawyer’s bed while he sleeps.
What I would give for just one touch. A finger trailing down those gorgeous pecs, all the way past his chiseled abs and into that tuft of hair that leads down to his cock. My, my, that is a pleasant thought…
“Princess?” I hear as I immediately still. Shit.
I give it a good five seconds before I answer. “Mmm?”
“Baby, your ass is… shit.” He quickly removes his hand from my breast, resting it on my hip. “Fuck, Nove, sorry.”
I roll my lips, my throat dry. “It’s fine, and I wasn’t grinding, I just moved and it sorta happened.”
I feel his hand between us, did he just… adjust himself?
That sends a thrill right through me. I want to turn around, lift the t-shirt up I’m wearing and tell him to have at it. I want to display my body under his nose and let him decide what he wants to do with it. But I don’t. I’m too chicken.
I’m also so wet it’s embarrassing.
His thumb brushes against my hip, making my bare flesh burn like I’m on fire.
“I’m sorry, I was asleep,” he says, removing his hand completely.
I turn to face him. “Don’t be sorry. I… I didn’t notice, I just woke up.” I am so going to Hell.
He rolls onto his back and my eyes flick to his chest. The comforter is hanging low around his hips and I groan internally at the idea that I got him hard.
His chest is muscled and perfect, along with his abs and the hair extending from his bellybutton fading south of the border…
“Sure you didn’t. Just what you want, me gropin’ you in your sleep.
” He folds his arms over his eyes with a groan.
I slap his arm playfully. “Now you’re being dumb. I barely noticed.” Lies!
“We’re both cuddlers, so let’s call it a truce.”
“If you say so.”
“I do say so.”
“We both have needs,” I say, out of nowhere.
He lifts his arm and stares at me. “What do you mean?”
Oops. “Umm. Nothing. Forget it.”
“Needs?”
“I’m going to make coffee while you lie here and sulk,” I say, needing some distance. I pull his t-shirt down before I slide out of bed. “I was gonna offer to make those pancakes you like, but now I’m offended you don’t like my body.”
“I never said that. Don’t be ridiculous.”
“So stop saying sorry when I said it was fine. What girl wouldn’t want a man like you all over them?”
“I was all over you?” He sounds completely horrified.
I grab the pillow and throw it at his head. “No pancakes for you.”
I’m kidding, of course. I just don’t want him to feel bad, but deep down, I’m a little hurt.
Did I want him to take things further? Yes.
Was I right to put that on him when he felt me up in his sleep?
Absolutely not. And this is exactly why you don’t catch feelings for your friends.
Guy friends. Best friends. It never works.
I pad out into the hallway, heading for the coffee maker. I know how Sawyer takes his, and I patiently wait as I load the pod and the coffee pours into the first mug.
I hear the shower turn on and I glance at the clock. It’s ten am. Holy moly. I slept for six hours straight? Not that you would know it, because Sawyer has blackout shutters in his bedroom, so it could still be the middle of the night.
I sigh, taking a sip of coffee as I add a little half and half. I was going to deliver his coffee in bed, but now I’ll just wait for him to get out of the shower.
Instead, I find the pancake ingredients from the little pantry, and I begin mixing everything into a bowl.
“What pancakes do you want?” I holler. “Blueberry. Chocolate chip—” I wander closer to the bathroom so he can hear me, and that’s when I halt in my tracks.
My eyes widen when I hear, “Fuck, baby, right there.”
Uh, oh.
I swallow, knowing exactly what he’s doing. He probably doesn’t know that the vent from inside ensures I can hear everything, including the running water, and his low groan.
Is he… whacking off in there?
I brace my hand against the wall, knowing it’s wrong to listen. It’s a violation, in fact, so I blow out a slow breath, then retreat until I hear, “Nova.”
I almost call out, ‘I’m here!’ when I realize I’m not supposed to be hearing that.
His voice is strained, mercilessly sexy as another groan leaves his throat and this time it’s so guttural that I’m slick with desire.
He’s coming to the vision of me because the strangled, quiet moan can’t be mistaken for anything else.
I move as quickly as my legs will carry me back to the kitchen, my heart banging in my chest.
My body aching.
My pussy throbbing.
I know what I need. Sawyer. I want him to take me in his bed and show me what I’ve been missing out on all these years.
I want to know what it feels like to be wanted, really wanted by a man.
It might not be love on his part, he didn’t say it back, and he doesn’t have to.
I know he cares about me, but this takes it to a whole new level.
I was right when I said we both had needs.
We do.
We could explore those needs together. I’d be patient with him as much as he is with me.
Ever since he put his hands on me the first time, I’ve carried a slow burning flame for him, and now I know I want Sawyer to make me come, and nobody else.
I hear the pipes shudder and the water shuts off. Act natural.
I grab the pan and light the stove. A few moments later, he comes out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his waist, and my goodness, is he hot.
His hair slicked back, with droplets of water still on his skin.
His face has a light smattering of stubble because he hasn’t shaved.
It does nothing to ease my aching libido.
Knowing he just got off and was whispering my name and making those noises? What am I supposed to do with that?
He grabs an apple from the fruit basket and chomps on it noisily as I hand him his coffee. “Thank you,” he says.
“Did you want, um, blueberry or chocolate chip?” I ask, my back to him. I could just pull that towel once and it’d be on the floor. Just one little tug. But I won’t do it.
If Sawyer wants to take things further, it has to be his decision, because I know I’m ready.
I’m fighting every instinct to not turn around and fold into his arms. It means he feels the same lustful things as I do. He jerked off in the shower while I was in the next room! That’s gotta mean something.
We could have a good thing going. A ‘friends with benefits’ situation. Eureka! I think I’m having a moment.
“Chocolate chip, please. Did you sleep okay?”
Before I almost orgasmed when you touched me? Yes. “Like a baby.”
“Me too,” he says, sounding surprised. “Maybe you’re my good luck charm.”
I like the sounds of that.
When I turn to pick up the bowl and add the chocolate chips, he’s sipping his coffee. “Okay, Adonis, I’m trying to concentrate here.”
“Am I distractin’ you?” He grins.
“Yes, you are. Go put some clothes on, for god’s sake.” There. We’re back to normal. This is the type of banter I’m used to. Not that other stuff I’m imagining.
“You good?”
I roll my eyes and sigh. “I’m not gonna be if you keep asking me that.”
He tilts my chin up with one finger. “Thanks, Princess, you’re the best.” He kisses me chastely, then takes off with his damn apple in one hand, coffee in the other.
Me, on the other hand? I stand in a puddle, my eyes glued to that fine ass as he walks off. I’m dying to see what’s underneath.
A Sunday morning sex session sounds perfect to me, but that’s in my wildest dreams. We’d forget all about pancakes and worship each other on the breakfast bar.
I clear my throat.
So close, yet so far.