by Natalie Wrye
I smile as I rub my lips around his swollen head, circling it with my tongue. Watching Sawyer come apart is pure magic. Eyes closed shut, head back, he gathers my hair in his hands, pulling just enough.
The tension on my scalp is delicious, the small tugs in tune with the motion of my mouth as I drive him deeper. The taste of his pre-cum hits the back of my throat, spurning me on.
I’m so turned on I’m close to combusting myself but before I can, Sawyer’s tugs grow more insistent—more eager. His forearms flex as his fingers grip harder, and I force my mouth down on him, harder.
Sucking to my heart’s delight. Swirling my tongue. And rubbing it across the tip of his small slit until he is grunting so loud the air vibrates.
His fingers dip in my nape. “Oh, baby, Jesus. I’m going to come. You don’t have to be keep going.”
But I do, sucking him down. My lips swivel around his length in his frenzy and without further warning, a guttural groan in the back of Sawyer’s throat, he comes in my mouth, shooting his sweetly salty pleasing, coating the back of my tongue—perfect in every way.
I swallow every drop, actually enjoying the taste. The rush of all I’ve done tints my cheeks, making my skin hot. Especially when I stare up at Sawyer, who stares down at me.
Eyes full of feral need, he grips my shoulders, pulling me towards him. I barely make a sound before he captures my mouth with his, planting the wettest, hottest kiss of my life on my lips.
He pulls back and glares at me, brow pinched together into a knot.
“How the fuck did I get so lucky? You’re straight out of heaven.”
“No, straight out of Hell,” I correct, cocking a grin. “Don’t think I haven’t heard the nicknames you’ve given me before? Buzz-Kill? Hera?”
“Baby,” he utters slowly, “the only word I have for you now is ‘Angel.’ Now lay down. It’s your turn. I’ve been practicing on my own, too.” He pushes me to the mattress, hovering over me, his mouth sliding into a grin. “The farmer’s market had a recent run on peaches…” He winks. “No less.”
SAWYER
We never make it out of bed in the morning.
I continue to devour every inch of Naomi’s soaking wet pussy until the sun comes up. Supplying her with orgasm after orgasm until she’s spent in my sheets, I spend my time making her comfortable, giving her what she needs.
We never have sex. Not the “official” kind.
But it doesn’t stop me from enjoying every inch of her luscious body, my hands kneading on her breasts well into the night. Fingertips digging into her hips. Tongue circling her areolas until she was crying out loud, begging for me to stop.
Nothing gave me greater pleasure. Nothing ever will.
Even now, as I stare at her asleep beside me in my bed, I still smell her on my skin. Soft and warm in my disheveled sheets, she nuzzles up towards me, her feathery hair floating across my chest as she lays.
She mumbles into my skin. “Mmm, how are you awake? It’s so early.”
“It’s noon, kitty. I’m going to need you to be able to tell time.”
Her brown eyes shoot up. “It’s noon?! We have to get up.”
She tries to sit. I stop her, pressing on one bare shoulder, covering her with my body, my cock still half-hard.
I can’t get enough of her. I doubt I ever will.
I kiss her lips.
“We…don’t have to do a damn thing, kitty, but enjoy each other. It’s Sunday morning. The day of rest. Not that I plan on doing much resting…but I’m sure you will be.” I pull on the sheets, revealing one swollen breast, nipples still pink from my attention. “By the time I’m done with you.”
She laughs. “Don’t you ever get tired?”
“I tried it. One time. Didn’t take. I’d rather spend my time engaged in more productive tasks.” I touch my lips to hers, lingering there for a small second. “Like making you come.”
She grins. “I like the sound of that.”
And it’s all it takes. Because I’m back on my knees.
Rising to raise my chest above Naomi’s, I kiss my way down her body, sliding slow. I flick my tongue across one nipple, watching it turn hard under my touch.
I cover it with my mouth sucking hard. Kissing and tugging it with my teeth until she’s squirming, I don’t start moving to other body parts until Naomi moans, her breathy words turning into pants as I lick a path towards her stomach, laving it with my tongue.
“Fucking Christ, Sawyer,” she gasps.
“Come on, now, kitty.” I smile. “Not on the Lord’s day. Let’s keep the heathen behavior to a minimum…until I can get us into blasphemy territory, alright?”
She giggles out loud, sounding giddy. And I love it.
The giggles stop shortly after I lower my mouth, and she moans. Squeezing her shapely thighs in my hands, I settle my head between Naomi’s legs, blowing over her pink, wet lips until she is writhing on the bed, her hands in the sheets.
“Please, Sawyer. Please, please.”
“Please what?”
“Please put your mouth on me. I need it.”
“Like this?” I lick, looking up at her, and she groans, shutting her eyes.
“Yes.”
“Or…like this?” I flick my tongue out, dipping it closer to her soaking center. Pressing as hard as I can, I insert the small tip inside her slick opening. She gasps, fingers flying to my hair. She pulls on it, urging me forward, and I know which choice she likes best.
I flick her again.
“Yes, Sawyer. Oh my God, yes, please right there.”
I take the hint. Torturing her with more swipes of my tongue, I listen to her weeping sounds. I wait until she is absolutely ready for me, and then I plunge.
Steeling my tongue with all its might, I fuck her with its steady tip, delving deep. Moving her hips over my mouth, I penetrate her over and over until she is crying.
Screams loud, nails scratching my neck, I stroke the sweetest angel in the world until she comes, releasing all over my lips. I lick her like an ice cream until she’s absolutely shaking.
It isn’t until her shudders slow that I stop, my mouth covered in her sweet taste, lips tingling, tongue numb, smile wide as I release her back to the bed, softening my hold, never getting enough. Never wanting to stop.
“Good God, you are amazing,” I utter, staring at her peaceful pretty face. “I could do that all goddamned day. And I would. If my tongue were strong enough.”
She grins up at me, eyes half-hooded, the irises hazy. “Your tongue seems pretty strong enough to me.”
“Care to try it out?”
I grab my jaw with her hand, gripping her close. Plunging my tongue into her mouth, I let her taste herself. Loving the way she moans. The way she squirms.
We share her sweet nectar, my mouth still glistening from tonguing her soft plush pussy, and it requires the strength of ten men for me to draw back. To not take my hardened, ready cock and drive into all the sweetness I know it holds.
I hold out until Naomi’s truly ready, not wanting to rush. Needing her to know that I’m for real.
I gaze down at her face, stroking the skin. “If you really want to get up, because you think it’s too late, I won’t stop you. I just needed you to know your options. To let you know that me doing that to you is an option… as long as you stay in these sheets.”
She arches a brow. “You drive a hard bargain, Mr. Kennedy.”
“Not yet.” I glance down at my hammer-imitating erection. “But I could. When you’re ready. Only when you’re ready.”
She smiles. I start to say something else. But then my phone rings.
I turn my back to ignore it, but it won’t stop. Ring after ring after ring comes through until I’m so sick of the damn sound that I climb out of bed, naked, storming towards the discarded jeans on the other side of the room.
I pick my pocket, picking up my phone.
“Yeah?” I don’t wait for an answer. “Now’s not a good time.”
<
br /> But now’s not a good time for any time this number calls. Because it’s my boss.
My boss’s boss.
The Cougars’ front office is on the line and suddenly staying in bed (and with the woman in it) is no longer an option. I swallow hard.
Chapter 21
NAOMI
Tuesday afternoon
The next two and a half days are a blur.
With Sevin back in town and Sawyer back to practice, my days are filled with work. The Cougars’ org asked Sawyer back to practice, and I couldn’t be happier for him.
But back to work means away from me, and with all his time back on the field, preparing for a possible early end to his suspension, my days are more lonely than ever before.
Not to mention I’m now up at seven A.M. the last two mornings, looking for another job sooner than I think. With Sevin back in town and Sawyer and I texting each other non-stop, the truth about our failed pact is sure to come out.
And I’m not sure how I feel.
Looking for a new job is never easy. Finding one to replace the one you love isn’t easier. As I wrap my hand around my morning espresso, I let the caffeine carry me into the next minute.
I swallow slowly.
Booking a one-trip ticket back to Miami is looking better and better. But luckily my phone buzzes at my table.
Setting my espresso to the side, I flip up the screen while I sit at my favorite cafe, reading the phone’s surface with a smile. My finger hovers.
SAWYER:
I’m sorry I ever seduced you. Now I can’t stop thinking about you. And I’m sucking at my practice drills.
I grin, typing back.
NAOMI:
What makes you think that it wouldn’t be me who seduced you?”
SAWYER:
Probably the fact that you were unconscious for most of that night. And I don’t make a habit of hitting on women who are mostly comatose.
NAOMI:
Ask Sevin.
I snort softly, staring at the black mirror in my hand.
NAOMI:
You’d be shocked at the things I can do when I’m half-conscious and running on fumes.
I wait several seconds before I get a reply that makes me short of breath, stealing air from my lungs. Because it’s so spot on.
SAWYER
Then why do you do it?
I respond.
NAOMI
Do what?
SAWYER
Continue to be Sevin’s P.A.
He keeps typing, ellipses appearing soon.
SAWYER:
And don’t give the phone that look. I know all about it. I know it’s a lot. I’ve seen all you do.
SAWYER:
Truth is…you could do more. I know all about the baking. I’ve tasted enough to know. You are a phenom. And you need to act like it. Starting as soon as possible.
I scoff, fingers flying on the screen, the texts coming out at rapid pace, appearing on the screen.
NAOMI
Well, some of us have to work these kinds of jobs to make a living… We all don’t have million dollar contracts to fall back on.
I hate myself for writing the words as soon as they come out. And it seems Sawyer does, too.
I can practically hear him growl.
SAWYER:
You do know that we baseball players weren’t born with high-priced contracts in our laps, don’t you?
Most of us worked really hard to get here. To the pros. Exceptionally hard. And then there are some of us…
Some of us who worked three to four hours a day in small mechanics shop in Buffalo, New York…just to make ends meet.
There are some of us who had to be parents when our parents stopped.
There are some of us who are not pretentious assholes…and resent the insinuation that we might be.
I start to write back, but I know nothing I can write in text will make up for my horrible mood. It’s not Sawyer’s fault that I’m scared shitless.
Scared of venturing out there on my own. Scared of stepping out of Sevin’s shadow. Scared of being forced into something I’ve never experienced.
Scared of being…
Me. Unapologetically.
Sexually, I was making steps I’d never made, taking them hour by hour, orgasm by mind-blowing orgasm with Sawyer. But as for everything else?
As for my catering business, the baking? I was still shaking in my hypothetical boots.
I’m shaking even now as I type back to Sawyer, adrenaline and caffeine coursing through my over-exerted veins. I take a deep breath, exhaling it slowly as I tap on the phone’s surface.
NAOMI:
I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. Don’t pay any attention to me right now. I’m hopped up on coffee and not in the best of moods. It’s been a long morning.
I sit quietly before writing the next part, marveling at how much can change in a few days.
NAOMI:
I miss you.
I wait, staring at the phone before quick ellipses appear before vanishing.
SAWYER:
I miss you too. And I know. We should talk. Talk about what we’re going to do. About Sevin.
He waits several seconds before writing more.
SAWYER:
See you tonight?
I smile weakly, my belly flipping five times over.
NAOMI:
Sure.
I sigh, stashing the phone away, sending another resume out in to the ether, hoping that I get a hit from the next recruiter.
I spend the rest of the day in that same spot, scarcely moving to secure a few more cups of espresso, my thoughts racing. My fingers itch to find themselves in some flour and sugar by the end of the day, and as the sun sets outside the small cafe’s window, the hustle and bustle of daytime Chicago giving way to night, I shoot a quick text to Sawyer, packing up my belongings to head over to his building.
Only problem is…my phone doesn’t want to play nice.
The damned device is useless in this summer Chicago heat, and if I’d known I’d end up circling the block outside of the coffee shop four times already, sweat beading underneath my pencil skirt, I would have stayed inside, slurping down that fifth espresso.
Or better yet… I’d have booked that ticket back to South Florida, with as much sunscreen as my bags can hold.
Sixteen blocks later, when I’m finally within a block of Sawyer’s building, I’m seconds from doing just that when, like a whisper in the wind, a voice—deep and familiar—breezes across my back, nearly making me jump out of my favorite pair of high heels. I spin in my knee-length skirt, nearly stumbling.
My hand fishes inside my purse where a can of my local bodega’s finest canister of mace awaits, but before I can pull it out, a pair of ice-cold, light blue eyes find my face.
They belong to a pretty blonde girl with startling blue eyes. Her eyes fly to mine—wary and wide.
On the dark Chicago street corner, those eyes appear innocent—guileless, really. But in this city? Looks can be deceiving.
I should know.
The last guy who groped me on the subway found out the hard way when the innocent little Latina he’d put his hands on planted her knee right between his cojones pequenos.
And I wonder if tonight will require a little re-run of that unfortunate episode.
I widen my stance on the sidewalk just in case.
Blue Eyes tilts her head. “Are you lost?”
I laugh softly. “I kinda was. I’m just trying to find my, uh, boyfriend’s building, and I couldn’t call him because my phone is… I don’t know. It doesn’t matter.” I point up at the building in front of me. “I think I found it.”
“Well, do you need me to call him? Double check? Do you know his number?”
I nod. “Unfortunately, I’m one of those weird freaks who do.” My brain is a personal vault for numbers of all kinds, most of them Sevin’s.
I give the girl Sawyer’s phone number, but it’s the way she stares a
t me when I do, that has me wondering if I should use that mace after all. I take a step back, swaying.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” She blinks. “Just trying to get a read on you… Are you Sawyer’s girlfriend or something?”
I can feel my eyes grow on my face as I search hers, looking for meaning. My pulse picks up.
“Depends.” My heart beats hard as I assess the gorgeous woman in front of me. “Are you trying to sleep with him?”
She laughs—a long, rich sound that makes me like her immediately. She clutches her chest. “I’m sorry…but I think you just insulted me. I am sleeping at Sawyer’s for the next few days, but only sleeping.”
She grins, extending her hand towards me. “I’m his sister. And you’re absolutely right. His building’s a little hard to find, but the outside is beautiful. I’ve been hanging at all the local places to get a feel for the place.”
Realization dawns, and I draw a breath full of relief. I extend my own, shaking hers.
“You’re Danica.” I shake my head, clearing it. “Sawyer’s mentioned you. A lot.”
She grins. “Don’t believe a word he said, then. None of it’s true. And, to just be clear, you can call me Dani. No one calls me Danica.” A small dimple deepens on the side of her pretty face. “The only people on this earth allowed to call me Danica are my grandmother and Brad Pitt. And until I see a horde of fifty-three kids calling you ‘Dad,’ I can safely conclude that you are neither. It’s nice to meet you…”
She raises one brow for a name.
“Naomi,” I answer, my stomach sinking at the knowledge that she doesn’t know it.
“Ah, I’ve heard a lot about you. Sawyer’s ‘friend.’ Well, come on in. Sawyer’s not home yet.” She motions. “And I don’t bite.”
I follow her, grinning. “Have you seen some of the characters on the subway? A bite would be the least of my worries after the few I’ve met these last couple of days, but thanks for the reassurance anyway. I could use it.”
She ushers me inside, smiling. And in that split second, I feel it.
It’s there. That urge inside me to run.
I could walk away from this job…or, hell, this city. No one would judge me—least of all, my Aunt Sandra, the only family I had left.
