Another shrug. “I have spares.”
“Well, then I guess the only thing left is for us to get to the sleeping arrangements. I’m not sure I could handle a night on the floor.” I smirked at Sawyer and the way he blushed, but also rolled his eyes. It was fun to tease him, and he played along so well.
“The bed is big enough for both of us. I’ll be nice and let you sleep under the covers, and I’ll sleep on top.”
“Oh, you think you want to be on top, do you?”
Sawyer’s jaw dropped, and his face turned the shade of a ripe tomato. “I didn’t mean—” He let out a sigh. “I walked right into that one.”
“You did.” Setting my pizza aside, I slid closer to him. I didn’t want food or movies or anything else but to be with him. “But, for what it’s worth, you can be on top anytime you want.”
Sawyer reached up and put his hands to his cheeks like he could hide his embarrassment with them.
“Let’s go to bed, Sawyer.” It was still early, but I didn’t care and neither did he. I wanted to bask in as much of his attention as I could. Things were already different between us. Our connection deeper than before. I’d never felt for anyone the way I did for Sawyer. And though I wasn’t quite ready to admit thatout loud, I knew it was the truth. I’d found something special with him, and I would fight like hell to keep it.
Sawyer nodded and got to his feet. I helped him put the pizza away, we turned out the lights, and he led me through the house to his room. On the way, we passed what had to be his office. The light was off, but I could see stacks of books on a desk and a familiar-looking laptop.
“It’s a disaster in there.” Sawyer tugged me down the hall to the next room, which was much less of a disaster, but still not the neat-as-a-pin room I’d secretly expected. The covers were rumpled and unmade, and a chair in the corner of the room held a stack of not dirty but not clean clothes. “It’s only a little better in here.”
“My early arrival threw a monkey wrench into your schedule.”
Sawyer looked a little less embarrassed. “You could say that.”
Yanking my shirt off over my head, I dropped it on the floor and held Sawyer’s gaze as I reached for the fly of my pants. “It’s a good thing I came to see you and not to inspect your house.”
“I wanted everything to be perfect.”
“It was. It is.” Forgetting about my own clothes for a second, I closed the distance between Sawyer and rucked his shirt up, then over his head and let it join mine in a pile on the floor.
“Not only,” I began, working the button of his pants loose. “Am I used to being around men of varying levels of capability when it comes to picking up after themselves, but I also don’t care. No one has ever done for me what you have.” It wasn’t quite the confession it could have been, but it was close enough for now.
Letting my hands drift back to my own pants, I opened my fly and shoved pants and all down to my ankles, then stepped out of them.
“I worried that it was too much. Too over the top.”
“It was just the right amount of over the top. You’re really good at this dating thing.”
That earned me a bright, if lopsided, smile. “I try.”
I closed the distance between us, cradled his face in my hands, and swept in with a kiss. It danced over his lips, and I teased my tongue into his mouth before pulling away. He swayed toward me when I did.
“Get in bed, Sawyer.” I released him then glanced at the bed, deducing that he slept on the left side, judging from the stack of books on the nightstand. I climbed in on the right and stretched out on my back. Folding my arms behind my head, I looked at Sawyer standing there still half-dressed. “Well?”
My voice kicked him into action, and he shimmied out of his pants, hit the lights, then climbed into bed.
The minute he was next to me, I reached for him and pulled him close, making him squeak in surprise.
“Shhh,” he said, stifling a laugh. “My parents will hear us.”
I dropped my voice to a whisper. Leaned in and ghosted my lips against his in a feather-light kiss. “Then we’ll have to be very, very quiet.” I slid my hand down his back, relishing in the way he arched into me. Sawyer sucked in a breath when my hand drifted lower, my fingers teasing the crack of his ass. I muffled one of his needy moans with a kiss.
“Shhh,” I reminded him, my dick more than happy about the game we were playing.
Staying quiet might have been a game, a naughty little role play not unlike other games I’d played in the past or scenes I’d filmed, but nothing about the way Sawyer made me feel was a game I was playing or a role I was putting on. With him, I was more myself than I’d been with anyone else. He didn’t expect me to be a certain way, to kiss or touch or talk a certain way. To act or to perform even when the cameras weren’t rolling.
When I’d been young and first on the scene, I’d easily confused sex and affection as something more meaningful. Learning that not everyone who was willing to fuck you even liked you had been a tough lesson. Learning that not everyone who said they loved you was telling the truth had been a harder one. I’d learned a lot of lessons the hard way, but I’d do it all over again if I ended up here—with him.
It had taken me years to separate sex and intimacy, not realizing that the two weren’t mutually inclusive. No longer the naive youth I’d once been, I recognized the treasure I had in my arms.
