Chapter 32 Sawyer
THIRTY-TWO
Sawyer
Ellie trailed behind me, as if she hadn't dropped twenty grand in front of everyone to stake a claim she swore wasn't real. Maybe she didn't think it mattered, but my skin still hummed from the fallout.
I pushed open the door to the hallway, the muffled noise of the auction fading as it clicked shut behind us.
Once we were in the empty corridor, I spun around. “What the hell was that?”
Her heels clicked once more on the tile as she stopped a few feet away, chin lifted in the stubborn way that made me want to either shake her or kiss her.
“I think that was one consenting adult bidding on another, maybe slightly less consenting, adult for a dinner date.”
“Don't do that,” I snapped. “Don't joke.”
“What did you expect me to do?” She stepped closer. “Let some stranger buy you for a night and pretend I'm fine with it? I'm your girlfriend.”
My heart slammed into my ribs. “Oh, are you now?”
She scrunched her face. “Well…pretend girlfriend.”
“Yeah.” I let out a bitter laugh. “We seem to be really fucking good at pretending, huh?”
Her lips parted, the sharpness slipping from her expression. Then, she reached out slowly and brushed her fingers across my cheek.
“Yeah,” she whispered. “I think we are.”
I closed my eyes, forehead falling to hers as if my body had finally found gravity. Her chest fell and rose quickly, just like mine. Every breath we shared made me want to drop to my knees for this woman.
As I pulled her closer, my hands slid to her waist, and I wished they were finding bare skin instead of her dress. I didn’t know how to exist with any space between us.
A light flashed through the darkness behind my closed eyes, and I snapped my head toward the hallway.
“Oh, shit.” A girl stood mid-step, holding up her phone. “That wasn’t—shit, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to.” She stumbled over her words, backing away.
I groaned under my breath and dragged a hand down my face. I looked back at Ellie, not giving a damn if the girl stayed or went. I scanned her features, trying to get even a glimpse of what was going on inside her beautiful, tortured mind.
“Ellie,” I warned. I caught her wrist, pressing her palm flat against my face. “I need you to back up.”
“Why?”
“Because I really want to kiss you right now, and if you don’t back away, I’m not sure I will be able to not do just that.”
Her breath hitched, but she didn't pull away. “Sawyer—”
“Tell me to back away. Tell me, and I will.” I stepped closer, pinning her against the wall.
Her eyes darted to my mouth then back up. “Does it matter?”
“Yes, it matters.” My free hand found the wall beside her head. “Do you want me to kiss you?”
She swallowed hard. “It doesn't matter what I want.”
“Bullshit. It's the only thing that does.” I leaned in until our foreheads were almost touching again.
“It'll make everything more complicated.”
“Everything's already complicated, baby.” I traced my thumb along her jaw. “Tell me to stop.”
“Sawyer…”
“Say the words. Tell me this is all pretend, and I'll walk away right now,” I echoed.
She didn’t respond.
“I can’t,” she whispered.
I backed away anyway, but she pulled me right back to her.
“Fuck it,” she breathed.
She crashed her lips against mine.
Not politely. Not carefully.
It wasn’t a gentle question. It was a claim, a long overdue surrender wrapped in desperation. My hand slid up the back of her neck, fisting gently in her hair as I angled her mouth to mine.
I pressed her harder against the wall, one hand tangling in her hair, the other gripping her waist, as if she might disappear if I didn't hold tight enough. She kissed me back with a kind of reckless abandon that made my head spin.
Her mouth opened on a soft, aching sound that nearly undid me.
And when her tongue brushed mine?
I moaned—full-bodied, from deep in my chest, moaned.
It didn’t feel new or awkward the way it should have.
There was no uncertainty, no tentative learning curve.
It was familiar in a way that defied logic—as if our bodies had already memorized each other in another lifetime spent doing exactly this, and it was just now crashing through us, full force.
Her hands slid up, one wrapping around the back of my neck, the other framing my jaw. Her touch was greedy. She kissed me like she didn’t know if she’d ever get to again, and I kissed her like I’d never let her stop.
Her mouth was so warm, so soft, and so fucking responsive. When I bit her bottom lip and tugged, her hips jerked, pressing harder into mine.
I slid one hand down to her waist and hiked my knee up between her legs. She gasped, and then she kissed me harder. Sloppier. Hungrier.
But even still, I needed her closer. If I didn’t hold her, she’d vanish and take whatever this was with her.
“This is fake, right?” she murmured against my lips. “Tell me this is us pretending.”
I pulled back just enough to meet her eyes.
“Wish I could,” I said. “Turns out, I’m fucking terrible at pretending.”
Then, I kissed her again, and I forgot how to focus on anything else. She was everywhere all at once, stealing my breath and whatever sanity I had left. And fuck, maybe I didn’t want to breathe if it meant letting her go.
“God,” I whispered against her lips. “Ellie…”
I pushed my knee up again as my hands shot to her ass. Her moan was instant, muffled by my mouth. Fuck, I felt it everywhere.
“Ellie baby…”
“I need—” she started, breathless, before kissing me again. “I can’t. Sawyer, I need more.”
“Tell me to stop.”
She kissed me.
“Tell me to back away.”
Her nails dug into my shoulder, her mouth trailing down my neck, open and wet and desperate.
“Say the word, Ellie. I swear—”
“Don’t you dare,” she whispered, wrecked and breathless and mine. “Please, just…don’t stop.”
I groaned, hands everywhere: spanning the dip of her back, splaying across her ribs, tracing her spine like I was relearning a body I somehow already knew.
Another flash in the distance.
Another reminder we were in public.
I didn’t give a single fuck. All I could think about now was getting her alone.