I stare down at the Band-Aids he carefully applied. I don’t believe Sawyer—about the asshole thing. How someone acts says a lot more than what they share aloud. My gut says he’s a good guy.
A callous thumb tips my chin up, forcing me to meet his gaze. “You didn’t lose anything, Wren. And you should have told me.”
“Would you have stopped?” I ask, holding his gaze.
He exhales. “Probably.”
“Then I’m glad I didn’t tell you.”
Sawyer scoffs, but his mouth is still turned up a tiny bit. Like he wants to smile but is fighting it. “It had to have hurt. I was rough, and you didn’t come.” He raises a brow, challenging me to argue.
I can’t disagree. It did hurt, and I didn’t come. But I don’t regret it, not at all. In fact, I want to do it again.
Bluntness worked last time. So, I ask, no hedging, “Can we do it again?”
He studies me. And I force myself to hold eye contact as I internally squirm from the foreign sensation of vulnerability. Being at a disadvantage? Needing something from someone? Both unfamiliar. Two things I normally avoid at all costs.
I can’t tell why he’s conflicted, which makes this more difficult. If it’s that I lied, or that I was a virgin, or that he’s already lost interest.
What Idoknow? “An asshole would already have a condom on.”
“Or he’d tell you he doesn’t do repeats,” Sawyer says.
I tilt my head. “Is that your final answer?”
He exhales, and I’m surprised to hear it’s a little unsteady.
“It was a yes-or-no question, Captain.”
Sawyer takes another step. Closer this time, not away.
As soon as he’s near enough, I wrap my legs around his waist, anchoring him to me. His skin is still damp, boxers dripping seawater. He’s solid. Warm. Firm. Stable. And his abs are ridiculous. Until I saw him shirtless by the cliff, I thought guys my age were incapable of being so built. I trail my fingers over the miniature mountain range, lingeringin each valley between ridges.
He watches me touch him, his mouth quirking in another almost smile.
“You’re really hot,” I tell him honestly.
Sawyer laughs, making the muscles under my fingers flex from the vibrations. “You’re not so ugly yourself.”
“That is, by far, the worst compliment anyone has ever given me.”
His hands slide under my ass, and I’m suddenly airborne. Being carried for a third time tonight.
He walks us over to the driver’s side, setting me down on the edge of the seat. I would have been really impressed if he’d opened the door while carrying me, but it was already ajar. Probably from him grabbing the first aid kit.
“Lie back,” he tells me.
I unclasp my arms from around his neck, missing the heat of his body as I recline on the seat. It’s not that cold out, but it’s not warm either. I’m not wearing much, especially since Sawyer is tugging my underwear down, and the bra I’m left wearing is flimsy and wet.
A rush of anticipation chases away most of the cold as his hands grip the inside of my thighs, parting them wide. I startle when night air guststhere. Again when his hot tongue replaces it.
This is another new experience. After a few fumbling fingering attempts, having a guy lapping down there sounded really unappealing. I was missing out, or maybe Sawyer’s skill is just superior because the rush of arousal is so rapid that it’s dizzying. A lightning bolt of lust, immediate and devastating. I try to lift my hips for more, silently begging. But his hold on my thighs is firm, allowing me only what he decides to give. There’s something arousing about that, too, having to cede all control to him.
I’m going to come.
I’m stunned, suddenly sensing it hovering ahead, my muscles trembling and tingling as I brace for the incoming wave of pleasure. I’m so thrilled about it, so relieved that my body is cooperating the way I want it to, that I forget about being cold or self-conscious or apprehensive. I let go, relaxing into the pleasure as it washes over me in steady pulses. I’m not quiet. I’m not sure I could stay silent, even if I had to. It’s too much to bottle inside. Too intense and too consuming. That’s never happened before either.
The bliss fades slowly, like an undertow receding from the shore. I can feel my heartbeat everywhere, loud and steady. I’m energized and sleepy, and I don’t know how I’ll continue to exist without craving that sensation every second.
