Chapter 34 Sawyer
SAWYER
It’s Friday, and I wake up in exactly the same position as yesterday, to Brie’s scent in my nose and her ass in my crotch.
My arm is wrapped tightly around her, hand cupping one perfect breast. And, because I have a near-medical condition at this point, my cock is throbbing, ready to bust at the slightest touch.
But this time, I stay right here, basking in the feeling.
I woke up on the verge of coming multiple times last night, replaying Brie’s words in my dreams.
I want it in my mouth this time . . . I’m aching for you.
Just the memory has my cock twitching.
I roll onto my back and scrub my free hand down my face before reaching for my phone, looking for a distraction.
Another snow day has been announced. Relief and anxiety braid through me.
There’s nothing I want more than to spend more uninterrupted time with Brie.
But being stuck here together isn’t reality.
Reality is going slow, giving her space, letting her come to me when she’s ready.
Here, we’re forced together and drowning in sexual tension.
I’m going to have a hell of a time keeping my hands off her. Last night was hard enough—in every sense. Between the dim fire-lit cabin, Brie’s lust-filled eyes, and her cock-throbbing words, I was only barely able to maintain my control.
I push my phone away and turn my body into her, spooning her again.
The fire has died down from when I last added logs to it a couple hours ago.
Sunlight moves slowly across the living room floor.
Her breathing deepens and she shifts, rubbing herself against me.
I flatten my hand over her stomach and nuzzle her hair, breathing in her scent.
When she arches her back in a stretch, I can’t help kissing along her neck, relishing in the throaty sounds she makes.
She rolls onto her back, smiling sleepily, and my chest inflates. This is how I want to wake up every day.
“Good morning.”
“Hi,” she yawns.
“What do you want to do today?”
She curls into me. “I want to stay here all day. With you.”
My fucking heart. This woman wants to stay here all day. With me.
“Yeah? And do what?” I ask, knowing full well inciting things further is a bad idea, but unable to help myself. I roll onto her, covering her body with mine as I kiss her deeply. She sucks my tongue into her mouth and I rock into her.
“This,” she says, tilting her hips to meet mine. “I want my turn with you.”
Groaning, I say, “We’re supposed to go slow.”
“I can go slow,” she say innocently. “It’s part of my plan. Tease you with slow licks.”
I drop my forehead onto hers, letting out a frustrated laugh. “I never guessed you were so evil.”
She grinds into me from below. I can feel the heat of her through the boxers she wears, and it takes every ounce of will power not to reach down, feel her wet heat and see how fast I can make her come.
It occurs to me, we’ve already done that. Going slow doesn’t have to mean starting over.
My hand drops down to her bare thigh, and I trail my fingertips up and down her warm skin. Goosebumps chase my touch all the way to the bottom of her shorts.
Her own hand winds its way between our bodies, but as it inches its way to my dick, I stop it in its tracks even as my hips angle to meet it.
“What, you can touch me but I can’t touch you?” she says.
“Exactly.”
That grin reappears. “No way.” She stills my hand on her thigh. “You’re not allowed to touch me if I can’t touch you.”
I heave a sigh. Looks like we’re at a stalemate. Because there’s no way I’m fucking this up.
“Let’s make breakfast,” I say, needing a diversion for us both.
“On the fire again?” she asks, like it’s the most exciting thing.
“Sure.”
And then we make out for another twenty minutes—hands above the waist but not without some heavy rocking—before getting ourselves out of our warm cocoon.
She hops to the bathroom like she’s dodging hot coals and shrieks at the water temperature when she splashes water on her face. Still in my clothes she slept in, hair messy from sleep, she looks so right. She belongs here in this cabin with me.
The thought stays with me as I get ingredients for breakfast and stoke the fire.
As Brie settles onto the blanket by the roaring fire, she rolls up her sleeves and unbuttons the top buttons of her shirt.
I catch glimpses of soft skin, the swell of the top of her breast. My eyes drop to her bare legs, the boxers loose enough to slide both hands into from the bottom.
I’ve got to find something for us to do before I go caveman on her.
After breakfast, I practically shoved Brie into my snow bib and jacket, hoping to get away from temptation before I did something I shouldn’t.
I figured if I had any chance with her, then we need to spend time together in the present without the past looming over us like a dark cloud. So I suggested we build a snowman.
We step back and look at our creation. It’s huge, nearly as tall as me with buttons for eyes and a smile.
“It looks good,” I say.
“It?”
“Him? Her? They?”
She makes a face. “Not sure. We need to give it something else.”
“Want me to go get a scarf or hat?”
“No, no,” she says, casting around for something on the streaks of barren ground the snow for the spheres came from.
Her face lights up when she finds what she’s looking for and sticks something into the space between the middle and bottom sections.
I come around to see a twig, barely the length of my pinky finger sticking out, with a perfectly round end. She adds two acorns beneath it.
Genitals for our snowman.
“There,” she says, looking altogether too pleased with herself. “Perfect.”
I rub my jaw. “What a stud. That’s gotta be at least, what, eight inches?”
A laugh explodes out of her as she squints at the wooden stub. “You might need to get your eyes checked.”
“Ten?!”
Another laugh, and I could live on the sound alone.
Her cheeks and the tip of her nose are pink from the cold, brown hair framing her face beneath the beanie.
My jeans are soaked at the knee from kneeling, and my shirt is wet from hefting sections onto the snowman.
Brie’s feet are probably wet and freezing.
“You ready to go inside?”
“Yes, please.”
I help her shuck her gear before stripping out of my clothes. As I head to my dresser in my boxer briefs, her muffled voice comes from inside the blankets by the hearth.
“What?” I ask.
More urgent muffling.
My brows knit and I walk over without putting my pants on. Only her eyes peek out from beneath the covers.
I tug the blanket down to her chin. “What was that?”
“The fire’s almost out.” She lolls her head back dramatically. “Is this what it feels like to get hypothermia?”
My mouth quirks. “Poor baby,” I tease.
It takes enormous effort not to climb in next to her and use my body heat to warm her. Instead, I reach for the logs I brought inside earlier.
“It’d be easier if you moved,” I tell her.
She’s lying so close to the hearth, I have no choice but to straddle her blanket-swathed body.
I drop to my knees to blow on the red embers, keeping my focus firmly on stoking the fire as Brie ruffles around between my legs.
My entire body jerks when I feel Brie’s fingernails on my bare thighs. The logs catch, flaming to life.
I look down and hold my breath. The blanket’s been tossed off Brie’s upper half. The buttons of the flannel shirt she wears are undone, exposing the inner globes of her breasts to me. Her fingers trace the bottom of my boxer briefs, along my inner thighs. My cock swells.
“Brie.” My voice is so hoarse, I hardly recognize it. “What’re you doing?”
She sits up, and the sides of the shirt open, exposing more of her.
I never thought of myself as a weak man, but as I watch my hand drift up to her collarbone and trail down her chest between her breasts, I know I’m feeble and defenseless when it comes to this woman.
This woman who’s protective of children, and caring of new friends.
Who’s stubborn and independent. Who always says what she means, and means what she says.
“Exactly what I want,” she says.
Her fingers feather over my length from root to tip through the thin fabric of my underwear. My legs nearly give out. I trail my thumb over the pulse point on her throat, relishing in how fast her heart beats in this moment.
This is too soon. I don’t want to mess this up with her.
“You do that again, and any chance of going slow flies out the window.” I won’t be able to hold myself back. I’ve barely got a grip on myself as it is.
She pulls back and shrugs the shirt off her shoulders.
Her breasts, perky little nipples beaded into perfect peaks, are on full display.
I’m so focused on how beautiful she is, the desire on her face, that her tugging on the waistband of my underwear barely registers until my cock springs free, heavy and hard, tip wet with precum.
“Brie.” It’s a stern warning.
But then, eyes holding mine, she leans forward and places one prim kiss on my slit before leaning back on her hands. Every muscle in my body pulls taut. She has a look of challenge on her face as she licks her lips, and I don’t know how I don’t come right here and now.
“Are you sure about this?” I ask, voice shaking with the effort it takes to maintain my control.
Her face sobers. “Yes. Everything I said last night is true, I’m not suddenly past our history.
That’s going to take time. But this?” She leans forward, and reaches her hand out slowly, eyes on mine as if she’s asking for permission.
When I nod infinitesimally, she drops her gaze and trails a finger lightly over me, root to glistening tip. “I’m ready for it now.”
The last thread of my control snaps. “Lie down.”