Loving Desire

by Renee Young

  "My parents were everything to me. I never had siblings and they spent their lives loving me. Daddy was my hero, and mama was my best friend. I was lost without them." It was a whispered comfession. One that gave Sawyer the slightest glimpse at what I'd lost.

  It wasn’t until Nova forced me to go see a therapist that I got into writing. Everything seemed so much easier once I had that outlet. I let my characters feel everything I was too afraid too. I let them scream and shout the words I couldn’t force past my anxiety.

  I stopped seeing my therapist when I finished my second book. Writing was far more cathartic than sitting on a couch where I had a hard time voicing my emotions.

  I had the urge to sit in front of my laptop. It was a fleeting thought. It was a bit morbid, but it was the truth. I was imagining the book I could write from the trauma I’d suffered at the store. I had character names figured out, and plot ideas swirled in my mind. It would be a dark romance. My heroine would be scarred, damaged beyond repair, but there would be a light at the end of her tunnel. My hero. He’d save her. He’d be there to witness her attack and he’d stop the villain. He’d let my heroine shout at her terrorizer while he was being held down.

  She’d tell the monster exactly what he was. She’d say that he lost. He wasn’t successful in tormenting her. She’d tell him that once he was gone, she’d never even let him cross her mind. He’d be nothing. He wouldn’t even be part of her story.

  He was nothing. He wouldn’t weigh her down the way Mike had done to me. My hero would be her story. She would lose herself in the love she had for him. She would lose her inability to trust, and she’d lose her hatred for herself. He would do that for her.

  They were the story, but that couldn’t be my story. Mike was a part of my story, and I felt he always would be. I had to decide if I’d let him be my breaking point, or if I’d move on. Pull myself back together with staples and tape.

  “Can I ask something of you that is beyond inappropriate and beyond fair?” I asked as I felt myself going back. Back to the store.

  “You can ask me anything.” He assured me as he leaned over and around me in an attempt to look at my face.

  “Don’t let me let this change me.” I almost whispered. “Believe me I know how ridiculous that is for me to ask. We haven’t even had our first date, if you even want that still. I just- I can feel that something cracked inside me and I think I need help filling it in. I never learned how to seal a hole.” I blabbed.

  “Olivia, you can lean on me. I find that I am a very handy man. I will be here for whatever you need. However I can help you just let me know. Also, I very much would still like that date. No rush though. I would rather you worry about healing right now. I’m not going anywhere.” He kissed the top of my head and squeezed me just a little tighter.

  “Thank you.” It came out in a whisper. I was never really one to ask for help. Not for something like this. That’s why Nova had to force me to talk to someone. Maybe that’s why I found it easier to feel things through my writing. I didn’t have to talk to anyone or explain anything. It was just me and the imaginary people I’d made up.

  “I got you, love.” He emphasized it with another kiss to my temple. I froze at his term of endearment, but chose to just let it go. Pretend he’d said ‘Liv’ not ‘love’. “Should we watch another movie?” He wondered. Right now, being in his arms I had a hard time thinking about anything other than how good he can make me feel. How satisfied.

  “Honestly, I’d like to fuck right now.” I informed him in a labored breath. With a clench of my thighs I heard him suck in a breath. It was unmistakable, the twitch in his pants. He’d been pressed against me, so I wasn’t unaware of the hardening of his member. His breathing became shallow, the rise and fall of his chest causing me to move with him.

  “I want to, Liv I really fucking do, but I can’t hurt you. I can’t even risk the possibility of hurting you. Especially not after today.” He sounded almost pained to reject my offer. Realistically I knew he was right. I wasn’t in the correct headspace to be so exposed to anyone, not even him. I also wasn’t healed enough. It would be difficult, hard to enjoy, while trying to manage my hurt knee. “So much has happened today.”

  I wasn’t offended by his rejection, I honestly kind of expected it. Sawyer has treated me with nothing but respect the entire time we’ve known each other. I should have figured he’d see my injuries and treat me with gentle hands. Even though, right in that moment I didn’t want his gentle hands. I wanted his grasping, clenching, and explorative hands.

  “You’re gonna wait forever to touch me again aren’t you?” I asked with a teasing lilt to my tone as I turned in my place a little to look at him

  “As long as it takes for you to be better.” He said and I could see his honesty and sincerity overtaking the lust in his eyes.

  “Then yes, I do need something from home.”

  Chapter 19

  I was used to it by now. I could tell, just by the way I’d jerked awake, that it was three o'clock in the morning. It was always three in the morning. It never varied, everything down to the very last detail remained the same. It was an accurate memory too. The way he’d stared into my eyes, the way he’d pushed me into the door, always the slow falling of the paper I’d released from my grip.

  Without fail, I’d been woken by these nightmares every single day for the past two weeks. The first time I’d been so afraid I had woken Sawyer up since he’d insisted we share a bed, but the man was a heavy sleeper. It didn’t matter that I flung myself out of his arms in fear every morning, as the irrational feeling that it was Mike who’d had me in his embrace flashed through me. It made no sense at all, because in Sawyer’s arms was the safest I ever felt.

  I had a routine by now. I’d get out of his bed, splash some water on my face then I’d trail downstairs and make myself a soothing cup of chamomile tea.

  I used to hate tea. I never understood how someone could like what essentially tasted like dirty water, but the first night- the first nightmare I needed something. Anything to calm me down and the box said it was calming, so I steeped a bag in hot water and prayed that it would work. It did, and I got used to the taste. The feeling it left on my tongue, due to the hot temperature, was a welcome one. It helped to ground me. Remind me that I wasn’t there. I would never be there again.

  After my tea I would walk- or hobble rather two to three laps around Sawyer’s large house. I needed to exercise my knee and It also helped me to be aware of where I actually was. Then I would sit in front of my laptop and write. I hadn’t planned on it. I really didn’t, but after the first nightmare I was terrified that I was going to have a panic attack so I sat down and I started writing. I’d sit there for an hour, sometimes two, and raise my word count. It came easy to me. The story was something that I didn’t need to imagine. I didn’t have to pull it from the depths of my imagination. I didn’t have to create the pain and suffering that Carly- my heroine- had to go through. Carly was me. A stronger, more put together version of me. While the scenario for which Carly found herself being attacked was very different than mine, I kept the attack pretty on point to the one I’d been through.

  Except for one key point. In her story she had Dan. I had a Sawyer, who was there after the fact, but she had Dan. Dan interrupted the assault. She didn’t have to practically claw his eyes out to be released. Dan pulled her from the monster hell bent on ruining her life.

  Never once had I been unappreciative of everything Sawyer had done for me, and I never would even think about laying any of the blame on him. I just wish someone had been able to save me. Pull me out of there with my throat unbruised, my knee unbusted, and my soul unshattered. I wished I’d had a hero.

  Sawyer was my hero, but in a different sense. He was there for me every single day. He didn’t force me to talk about that day and he didn’t push me into anything that could possibly break me further. He was the man I’d thought he was. He was kind, caring and he was so attentive.
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  I hadn’t cried in front of him again since the day of the attack. I saved my tears for when I was alone. I didn’t want him to see me as weak as I’d felt that day. I was terrified all the time though, no matter how safe he’d made me feel. The only time I didn’t feel the urge to look over my shoulder was when he had me wrapped up in him. His large arms formed a shield to protect me from the toxic thoughts and anxiety that continued to build within me.

  I didn’t tell him about the nightmares. I didn’t want to. He deserved peaceful sleep. He was doing enough for me already and I was certain that if he knew about the instant replay I got every night he would go out of his way to soothe and comfort me. I couldn’t let him do that, no matter how badly I craved him.

  It was a craving. I yearned for anything and everything he could give me. A smile, a wink, even a glance in my direction had me reeling with unbridled joy. It wasn’t just the contentment and safe feeling he gave me; it was everything. He had truly and rightfully inspired the hero in my new novel.

  Often my time writing was filled with an onslaught of tears as I wrote the story how I’d wished it had gone. Carly was so strong, the way she didn’t run from her assailant. She stood beside Dan and made sure he knew what garbage he was. Who was gonna let Mike know what a piece of shit he was?

  When I got out everything I could everynight/morning I would return to Sawyer’s bed. I’d wriggle my way back into his arms and just lie there with my eyes open. I took the time to look at him. I watched as his eyes would sometimes twitch in his sleep or his lips would sometimes stretch into a quick smile. He was a masterpiece and he deserved to be admired. So I did. I admired him with awe and adoration.

  It hadn’t taken long, I knew it wouldn’t. The last two weeks we spent every possible minute together. We ate dinner on his couch and we watched movies. He’d take me to physical therapy every other day and he’d sit in the waiting room for me. We would discuss ideas for engagement parties for my best friend and his cousin. I knew so much about him. I could list his favorite ten movies in order and why he liked them. I knew he was a football fan and he could recite his favorite team’s stats without any kind of prompt. I knew how he liked his coffee and I knew his allergies. So yes, yes I fell in love with him.

  I’d warned him. I’d warned myself, but it was far too late. My heart was his to do with whatever he wanted. He held all of me, and I was afraid he’d drop me. He had the power to crush me to a fine dust, then blow me into the wind.

  I met Sawyer about a month ago, and I fell in love with him in that much time. From the moment I looked into those deep blue eyes I’d known I was in trouble. I saw it coming, and I was powerless to stop it. Though, through the fear, I couldn’t find it in me to regret it. He was a good man. I’d never regret loving someone like Sawyer. Even if in the end I wind up shattered and unrecognizable even to myself.

  “Good morning, beautiful.” His gravelled morning voice pulled me from my intense thoughts.

  “Good morning.” I smiled at him. “How’d you sleep?” I wondered. He’d looked to be having a nice dream.

  “Really well. I always do with you in my bed.” He smirked and I rolled my eyes with a grin. He was so smooth. “How'd you sleep, love?” He asked- again with the endearment. It seemed to be a favorite of his over the last two weeks.

  “Perfectly.” I’d lied with a smile. It was the same question every morning with the same answer. I wasn’t sure if I was a really good liar or what, but he never questioned it.

  “Do you have to work with Nick today?” He questioned and he gently pulled me closer to him. He peppered little kisses all over my face and my eyes fluttered closed at the feeling of his lips on my skin.

  “Yeah.” It came out as a breath before he forced a tiny moan from my throat by nipping the skin of my neck just below my ear.

  “What time?” I could practically hear his desires in the simple question. It probably helped that he’d pushed his hardness into me.

  “Huh?” I asked before realizing what he’d said. “Uh, ten. I think.” My hips began to instinctively grind against him, willing him to provide me with some sort of release.

  “Plenty of time then.” I heard the smirk as he pushed me onto my back. “Would you like to come for me this morning, Livvy?” He asked as he hovered over me, not putting any kind of weight on me. Sawyer and I hadn’t had sex since that night, but had fooled around a little bit. He was generous in his treatment of me, and he expected nothing in return. I’d wanted to return the favor, and I had once- but it had been too soon after the attack and my throat was screaming in pain after.

  “Yes, but I want you to come first.” I smirked at him before running my hand down his chest and into the front of his boxer briefs. My small hand wrapped around his contrastingly large cock and he let out a groan at the contact.

  “You don’t have to.” He tried to insist, but I brushed off the comment with a quick jerk of my wrist on him.

  “Stand up.” I demanded and like the good listener he is, he listened to me. He stood from the bed and helped me over to the edge where I could comfortably stretch out my leg. The height was off so he’d stepped onto the edge of the bed with his legs on either side of me. He’d discarded his briefs already and he reached his hands up to steady himself on his bed frame. “I want to hear how good I make you feel.” I told him and he nodded.

  I didn’t wait any longer to wrap my lips around the tip of his hard-on. A groan was my reward. A groan so deep I almost came without a single touch. I matched his groan with a moan of my own, causing him to jerk his hips in response. “Shit.” He’d cursed. With one hand I pumped what I couldn’t fit into my mouth and with the other I slid into my own pajama shorts. I used my middle and ring fingers to rub against my clit. Release another moan had him cursing yet again. “Fuck. I love it when you touch yourself. Work that little pussy.” He urged. I looked up at him not pulling him from the warm wetness of my mouth. I caught his eyes as he watched me deepthroat him.

  I was building to my own orgasm, close to my edge when he’d reached his. He shot his load to the back of my throat, almost overfilling my mouth due to the sheer amount. With a pop I released him and looked into his eyes as I swallowed every drop he’d spilled. He groaned as he twitched in my palm.

  “Your turn, love.” He growled before hopping off of the bed. He was quick, but careful, in taking off my shorts and lying me on the bed. His movements were confident and strong as he moved between my open thighs. I could see him fighting with himself whether to tease me or give me what I so desperately needed.

  “Fucking taste me, Sawyer.” I demanded as all of my patience left. He didn’t have to be told twice and before I could even react his tongue brushed across my clit. My back arched at the sensation and my right hand gripped at his sheets while my left dug into his hair. I was desperate to keep him in place as his tongue worked wonders on my lady bits. I’m sure I was mumbling encouraging remarks as he hit and teased exactly where he needed to. The sounds leaving me could only be described as pleasurable.

  “You taste so good. So fucking good.” He groaned against me before slipping a finger inside of me. “Fuck! Your pussy feels so tight around my finger.” I clenched at his words. “Yeah squeeze me, love.” He flattened his tongue against me again before sucking my sensitive bud between his lips. He added another finger stretching me a little. With a curve of those fingers he hit the magic spot that had my eyes rolling to the back of my head and I unintentionally let out a little scream

  “Come for me. Come all over my tongue, all over my fingers.” He demanded and then he did the one thing he knew would send me over and crashing. He grazed my clit with his teeth. It was never something I’d liked before him, but now I needed it. With a breathless shout that I was in fact coming, I did. I could feel the rush of liquid practically shoot from me, but he lapped it up. With a final kiss upon my core he moved to come lay beside me.

  “So, that was new.” He said with a smirk. The smug fuck. He was so f
ucking proud that he’d made me lose it like that.

  “Yeah, that’s never happened before.” I let him have his moment. I kind of like- oh fuck who was I kidding- I was in love with is cocky side. I had yet to learn one thing about Sawyer that had me questioning my feelings for him.

  I was in so deep with him I couldn’t even figure out which way was up. It was just more him, more love for him. Even if there was some way to pull myself from the never ending pool of adoration I’d had for the man, say a life preserver- I wouldn’t reach for it. I wouldn’t swim towards it, or urge it to come closer to me.

  I wanted to be in love with him. I wanted to show him that not every woman was like his ex wife. I certainly wasn’t. I couldn’t imagine holding his heart and wishing for anything more.

  Sawyer helped me shower, as he had everyday for the last two weeks, before helping me dress for the day. He’d grabbed my hairbrush and made me sit in front of the mirror while he worked to blow my hair dry. It was weird the first time he did it, but it was sweet more than anything else.

  I’d tried to tell him my arms weren’t hurt, but he insisted he liked taking care of me, and he was pretty good at it so I didn’t argue any more. When we were both ready for the day we made our way downstairs where Sawyer had me sit at the counter while he made us each a bowl of cereal.

  Our morning routine wouldn’t be complete without him kissing the top of my head before I rushed to the restroom to relieve myself before we left the house to go to the office. I never took that long, and I didn’t today. I did however make a mistake today.

  I forgot to log out of my laptop and close it. I forgot that I’d turned off my sleep settings awhile back, so when I wobbled back into the room, I shouldn’t have been surprised to see Sawyer there.

  The biggest surprise wasn’t him reading my latest work, it was the unshed tears that welled in his eyes as he read it. I stood silent, unnoticed by him as he read essentially how I’d felt about myself. A part of me wanted to yell at him for invading my privacy, but the more present part of me just wanted to pull him into my arms to protect him from the darkness that consumes me every morning.