“Holy shit,” he says, “your sweater. It’s wet. You must be freez?—”
He clamps his mouth shut when I reach for the hem and drag it over my head. His breaths come out hard. He looks at me in my cotton bra and mismatched, mangled underwear like he’s never seen anything better, like I’m exactly what he wished for.
I tug on the buttons of his shirt and pry the fabric off his toned shoulders. No undershirt,thank god. I attackhis neck, my hands exploring every inch of his torso. His warm skin, the soft hair scattered over his pecs, the hard ridges of his abs that tighten at my touch.
His fingers flex and a groan tears through him when I graze my teeth over his neck. I rock my hips, wanting more. One hand grips me tighter, his other hand careful not to touch the bandage on that side.
Then it hits me. His hands haven’t moved from my hips.
He hasn’t kissed me.
I’m doused in cold shame. I pull back to look at him. He gazes back through drugged eyes.
He blinks. “What’s wrong?”
That’s what I’d like to know.Istarted this,Ipushed him onto the bench,Iclimbed on top of him. Frustration and embarrassment war inside me. But I’m already here, there’s no going back from sitting on Sawyer’s lap in my bra and ripped panties. How much bigger a fool could I possibly make myself by opening my mouth?
“Why won’t you touch me?” I breathe.
A muscle in his jaw ticks as his chest rises and falls. “Brie, you just told me exactly what you think of me. I’m not taking the reins here and giving you something else to hate me for. I need to know you want me to touch you.”
It’s a good point. Sawyer drives me crazy in more ways than one. I don’t trust him, his actions confuse me, and I don’t understand him. But this thing between us has been building since Day One, and there’s no better time to see it through than right now. We’re in his secluded cabin, I’m in my underwear, and his cock is rock hard beneath me.
Heart thumping, I reach behind me and unclasp my bra. A dare.
His eyes stay fixed on mine, butthe muscles in his throat protrude. His Adam’s apple moves with a heavy swallow. His hands squeeze me tight enough to bruise.
I lean forward, taking his bottom lip between my teeth, biting it hard enough to feel his groan, then sucking on it. My hands grip his shoulders as I nip at his neck, scattering wet little kisses all the way up, eliciting deep sounds from him.
My mouth presses to his ear. I don’t overthink it, and I don’t recognize my own throaty voice when I say, “Sawyer, I want your hands and mouth on me. Everywhere.” I drag my teeth over his lobe.
He lets out a desperate whimper that makes me almost feral for him.
“Please,” I say.
Then he cracks. His hands skate up my ribcage, cupping my breasts from underneath as his mouth meets my clavicle, kissing along my collarbone before finding the sensitive spot where my neck and shoulder meet, making me squirm. Thumbs rub exploratory circles over my nipples, making me arch. I whimper, and he bites me lightly. He does it again and again, pulling new sounds from me, noises I’ve never made before.
He pulls back, eyes bouncing between my face and my chest, like he can’t decide what he likes better. Then he kisses me full on. His mouth devours mine and his fingers rake over my bare thighs, up my stomach, down my arms, pulling all my nerves taut.
“Brie,” he rasps against my lips.
I shiver and buck my hips, pressing flush against where he’s impressively hard. He groans and hooks his fingers into the waistband of my underwear that’s still intact. He pulls up, dragging it against my clit. I gasp with pleasure. His eyes flash with satisfaction.
“Tell me what you want.” It’s a plea, not an order.
“I want that,” I say when he tugs on my panties again. They’re soaked.
He plants wet kisses along my jaw, then brings his mouth against my ear, hot breath making me moan. “I need to hear you say it. I need to know you want this as badly as I do.”
Heart pounding, I say, “I want you to rub my pussy. I want your fingers inside me.” I swallow. “I want your tongue on me.”
Before I can say more, his mouth covers mine again as a deep, tortured rumble emanates from his chest.
He breaks the kiss and watches his hand roam down my chest with hooded eyes. His finger hooks the crotch of my panties, moving them to the side.
“Fuck, Brie. You’re the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen.”
His thumb presses delicately against my clit, a button being pushed, and I make a ragged, anguished sound that no one on Earth has ever heard except Sawyer Strong.
