Addison
I woke slowly.
Warm light pressed against my eyelids, and the room came into focus piece by piece.
My cheek rested against Sawyer’s bare shoulder, her skin warm and already familiar in a way that still surprised me. She slept beside me with her lips slightly parted, her breathing slow and even. Morning light caught in her hair and softened her features.
I watched her quietly, letting the sight of her settle into me.
She looked unreal like this.
Stunning.
And God help me, I wanted her.
A low sound slipped from her throat as she kissed me back on instinct, still half-asleep.
“Mmm, morning,” she breathed, a sleepy smile spreading across her face.
“Morning, baby.”
That was all it took.
I moved over her, settling my thighs on either side of her hips, bare skin against hers as my hair fell around us. She pulled me closer, still soft with sleep, and I sank down fully against her, our centers pressing together in a way that made my breath catch.
I kissed her like I needed it. Like stopping would hurt.
Her hands found me almost immediately. One slid up my back while the other cupped my breast, her thumb brushing slowly over my nipple. My breath caught, and I leaned into her touch, but my hips shifted too, instinctive, searching, dragging softly against her.
She groaned beneath me and tightened her fingers against my skin, her own hips lifting to meet mine.
“You’re so fucking hot like this,” Sawyer murmured against my mouth, her voice still rough with sleep. “You’re a dream, Addie.”
Something in my chest cracked open at the words.
I moved again without thinking, a slow, deliberate roll of my hips, feeling her right there, warm and slick against me. The friction pulled a soft sound from my throat, my forehead dropping to hers as I did it again, slower this time, like I wanted to feel every second of it.
I didn’t care that it was morning. I didn’t care that I was still half-asleep. My body was already awake, already humming like it had been waiting for her. I had never wanted anyone like this. Never felt so certain, so pulled toward someone, so undone by another person’s hands.
She answered me.
Her hips lifted into mine, slow and steady, meeting my movement, guiding it. The shift sent a sharper wave of heat through me, my breath catching as we found a rhythm together, bodies sliding, pressing, learning each other in real time.
“Addie…” she breathed, her voice rough, like she felt it too.
I did it again, a little harder this time, chasing it, my hands tightening against her shoulders.
She made a soft sound low in her throat, and then she shifted.In one smooth motion, she rolled us, the world tilting until I was on my back, the sheets cool beneath me while her weight settled over me.
My legs parted for her without thinking, letting her back in, letting her press right where I needed her.
The way she looked down at me made my stomach flip.
Her expression had changed. Still soft, but focused now. Intent.
“Did you wake up needy, pretty girl?” she murmured, her voice low and warm, her hand sliding up my side. “Already like this for me.”
I nodded, breath catching. “Uh huh,” I said, my voice soft and wrecked. “So needy for you. Want to come with you so bad.”
Her mouth curved slightly. “I think we can make that happen, baby.”
Her mouth followed that promise.
She kissed along my jaw first, then down my neck, slow and deliberate, warmth blooming everywhere she touched. I closed my eyes and let myself sink into it, into the feeling of being seen and wanted all at once.
Her hips kept moving against mine, both of us so wet, the slow slide of her body against mine steady, intentional, keeping that same perfect pressure.
“So responsive,” she whispered against my skin. “Every little thing I do…”
Her hand slid between my thighs and found exactly how ready I already was.
The breath left my lungs in a rush. “Fuck—Sawyer,” I breathed, my voice breaking around her name. “So good.”
“I know,” she murmured softly. “I’ve got you, baby.”
She didn’t rush.
She never did.
Her touch stayed steady and confident while I clung to her shoulders, to her, to the quiet sound of her voice as she spoke, her lips brushing my skin between words.
“Feel me,” she whispered. “Stay right here… just like that.”
Everything started to narrow.
Heat. Pressure. The steady rhythm of her against me.
“I want you to come with me,” she murmured, her voice softer now, closer. “Okay?”
“Please,” I breathed, my fingers tightening against her. “I want that. I want you.”
“That’s it,” she whispered. “Stay with me… don’t rush it.”
The moment stretched, tightening, pulling us closer to the same edge.
I could feel it building, sharp and bright, my body already starting to shake beneath her. My hips moved without thinking, matching hers, chasing that same perfect pressure, that same steady rhythm she kept holding me in.
“Right there,” I gasped, my voice breaking. “Don’t—please,” I breathed. “I’m so close, baby.”
“That’s my good girl,” she murmured, her forehead dropping to mine, her breath warm against my lips. “You ready to come with me?”
“Please,” I whispered. “Yes… please.”
She ground down harder into me, and I felt it—her body tightening with mine, the shift sending everything higher, faster.
“Fuck, Addie,” she breathed. “Come with me, baby… just like that.”
Her hand tightened on my hip, holding me right where she wanted me, her body pressing into mine with just enough pressure to push me over.
Everything narrowed.
Her breath. My name on her lips. The feel of her everywhere.
“Addie—” she broke, her voice catching.
That was it.
I came with her.
My body arched into hers, a broken sound falling from my mouth as everything hit at once, sharp and overwhelming. She followed with me, our bodies tightening together, moving through it in the same rhythm, the same breath.
We held each other there, not letting go, riding it out together.
Her mouth found mine, messy and desperate, swallowing every sound as the waves hit again and again, until my body finally started to come down, trembling, still pressed tight against her.
She didn’t pull away.
She stayed right there, forehead against mine, breath uneven, her hand still resting on my hip like she didn’t want to lose me.
“Fuck,” she breathed softly, a quiet, almost disbelieving laugh in it. “Is that what you wanted, baby?”
I let out a shaky breath, my fingers still curled into her shoulders, my body slow to catch up.
“Yes,” I whispered, softer now. “God, yes. Thank you.”
We didn’t move. Her hand stayed on my hip, thumb brushing slow, absent circles like she wasn’t ready to stop touching me. I pressed closer, my leg slipping between hers, fitting into her like it was the most natural thing in the world.
My body felt heavy in the best way. Warm. Loose. Still humming.
Sawyer kissed my temple, then my shoulder, her lips lingering there.
“You okay?” she murmured softly.
I nodded against her. “More than okay.”
Her arm tightened around me just slightly, pulling me closer, and something about that—how easy it felt, how right—made my eyes drift shut.
Sleep came slow and soft. Not all at once.
The warmth of her skin. The quiet way her fingers kept moving along my back until they didn’t. Until everything faded.
* * *
Light filtered in through the window, soft and warm, and for a second I didn’t move. Just stayed there, tucked against her, listening to the quiet of the room and the steady sound of her breathing.
Her hand was still on me. Like she’d fallen asleep that way.
I shifted slightly, enough to look up at her, and she stirred, her eyes opening just a little, sleep still heavy in them.
“Hey,” she murmured.
“Hey.”
Neither of us moved right away.
“I don’t know what I’m going to do when I have to go back to real life,” I said after a while, my voice quieter now, softer with sleep and something more honest. “It already feels like I’m going to miss you.”
Her fingers started moving again, slow circles along my spine. “We’ll make time,” she said gently.
I lifted my head, studying her. “I want to make sure you’re on my calendar.”
“Are we scheduling sex now?”
“We’re scheduling time,” I corrected, nudging her lightly.
“Good, because I plan on seeing you a lot.”
That settled something in me.
Getting out of bed took effort. Kisses slowed us down. Hands lingered like neither of us wanted to be the first to let go. Every time I thought we were done, she pulled me back in for one more, softer this time, slower.
Eventually, I forced myself up.
I pulled on one of her worn black T-shirts and my shorts, smiling faintly when I caught the scent of her still clinging to the fabric.
The ride into town felt like a reset.
The wind tugged at my hair while my arms wrapped tight around her waist. The sun was bright, the air salty, and I could breathe all the way down into my lungs.
The café we found was perfect. Small and local, with the smell of butter and cinnamon drifting through the air the second we stepped inside.
We shared pancakes and stole bites from each other’s food, stretching the morning as long as we could.
Eventually I pulled out my phone and unlocked it, glancing down at the screen.
“Okay,” I said as I tapped into my calendar app, tilting the phone slightly toward her. “Let’s plan.”
Sawyer leaned back in her chair with her coffee in hand and watched me with an amused look.
“I don’t really keep a calendar,” she admitted, lifting the mug to her mouth.
I blinked at her over the edge of my phone. “You don’t?”
Sawyer gave an easy shrug as she set her mug back on the table. “I work. I see friends. That’s about it.”
I laughed under my breath and shook my head, setting my phone down beside my plate. “God,” I said, dragging my hand through my hair, “that must be nice.”
Sawyer reached across the table and brushed her knuckle lightly along the back of my hand, her voice gentle when she answered. “You’ve got the packed schedule,” she said. “I’ll work around you.”
Something about the way she said it landed deeper than I expected. I glanced back down at my phone and scrolled through the week.
“Wednesday night,” I said as I tapped the screen. “My place?”
Sawyer’s mouth curved into a small smile as she leaned forward on her elbows. “Only if I can cook,” she replied.
“Deal,” I said quickly, nodding once as I added it to the calendar.
“I’ll stay over,” Sawyer added, lifting one shoulder casually.
“Perfect,” I said, locking my phone and setting it beside my plate.
Sunlight filtered through the window, dappling the table and catching on Sawyer’s hands where they rested near mine. For a moment neither of us moved.
I cleared my throat slightly and traced the rim of my coffee cup with my finger.
“Next weekend…” I began, glancing up at her again. “Bridal stuff. A lot of it.”
Sawyer nodded easily and took another sip of coffee before answering. “Play it by ear?”
“I might come over late Saturday,” I told her, lifting one shoulder.
“Whenever works,” Sawyer said with a small smile.
I let out a quiet breath and leaned back in my chair. “This week’s going to suck.”
Sawyer reached across the table again and brushed her fingers lightly against my wrist before speaking. “We’ll talk,” she said gently. “You’ll get through it.”
I watched her hand resting near mine and swallowed before answering. “I don’t want to pretend,” I said quietly. “Like this weekend didn’t change me.”
Sawyer’s expression softened as she squeezed my wrist lightly. “You don’t have to pretend with me,” she replied. “That’s the point.”
We lingered after breakfast with our fingers tangled together, neither of us in a hurry to leave.
And we didn’t have to be.
We still had the rest of Saturday and one more night before real life came back.
After breakfast, we walked through town with no real plan. We wandered into small shops, shared a bag of saltwater taffy, and stopped along the waterfront whenever something caught our attention. Sawyer kept reaching for my hand without thinking, and every time she did, warmth spread through me.
No one stared.
No one cared.
We were simply two women spending the day together, and I hadn’t realized how badly I needed that until I had it.
Later, we found a quiet spot near the water and sat with our shoulders pressed together while boats moved slowly through the harbor.
“I could stay here forever,” I murmured.
Sawyer glanced at me. “In Mystic?”
I smiled. “Right here. With you. Away from everything.”
Her expression softened. “We’ll do this again.”
The certainty in her voice made me believe her.
We picked up dinner on the way back to the house and ate on the porch as the sun went down. Afterward, we opened a bottle of wine and stayed outside beneath a blanket, talking until the air grew too cold to ignore.
That night was slower than the one before.
There was no urgency. No feeling that we had something to prove. We took our time, learning each other again before falling asleep tangled together in the middle of the bed.
* * *
Sunday morning arrived too quickly.
I woke with Sawyer’s arm around my waist and sunlight stretching across the sheets. For a few minutes, I stayed completely still, pretending we had nowhere to be.
Eventually, Sawyer kissed the back of my shoulder.
“We should probably start packing.”
“I don’t like that idea.”
“Neither do I.”
Getting out of bed took longer than it should have. Kisses slowed us down. Hands lingered. Every time I tried to move away, she pulled me back for one more.
Eventually, I forced myself up and pulled on one of her worn black T-shirts with my shorts, smiling when I caught her scent still clinging to it.
Packing felt too final. I folded everything carefully and avoided looking directly at the bed. When I zipped my bag, the sound felt too loud in the quiet room.
Sawyer carried our bags outside and secured them in the saddlebags while I took one last look around the house.
“You ready?” she asked.
“No.”
She smiled gently. “Me neither.”
The ride back was quiet. Just the engine, the wind, and my arms wrapped tightly around her. Every now and then, when we stopped at a light, Sawyer reached down and squeezed my thigh.
By the time we pulled up in front of my condo, that familiar Sunday heaviness had settled in my stomach.
I climbed off the bike but didn’t take off my helmet right away. Standing there meant the weekend was over, and I wasn’t ready for it to be.
Sawyer removed hers and stepped closer.
“Wednesday,” she reminded me. “My place.”
“I know.”
“And I’m staying over.”
“I know.” I rested my hands against her waist. “It still feels too far away.”
She kissed me slowly, like she understood exactly what I meant.
“I’ll text you when I get home,” she said, brushing her thumb across my cheek.
“Please do.”
I watched until her motorcycle disappeared down the street.
Inside, my condo felt wrong. Too clean. Too quiet. Too much like the life I had built to make sense to everyone else.
I dropped my bag beside the door without unpacking it.
Two nights with Sawyer, and somehow, this no longer felt like home.
* * *