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Sawyer

Page 16

by Nicole Edwards


  “Damn it, Sawyer!”

  As soon as he was inside, Sawyer shut the door behind him, engaging the lock before stalking Kennedy to the other side of the room. She didn’t look scared, but she was certainly pissed.

  He knew what she was feeling. He was just as angry.

  When she had nowhere else to go, Sawyer bracketed her head between his hands, placing them flat against the wall behind her.

  “Why are you doing this?” she asked, venom dripping from her question.

  “Because you’re actin’ irrational,” he told her, still not touching her at all. He was scared to. If he touched her, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to stop himself, and the last thing he wanted was to actually freak her out.

  “Me? I’m not the one who took all those phone numbers from other women,” she countered heatedly.

  “If you recall, I didn’t take any phone numbers from anyone.”

  “Fine,” Kennedy huffed. “Maybe not. But you certainly didn’t refuse them.”

  “Is that what this is about? You think I wanted those women to give me their number?”

  “I don’t know what the hell you want, Sawyer.”

  “The question is what do you want, Kennedy? I know damn well exactly what I want. But this trust thing . . . it kinda works both ways.”

  Kennedy’s eyes widened and Sawyer knew she understood his meaning.

  “I told you I trusted you,” she bit out.

  “And you proved you were lying when you ran.”

  When she spoke, her words were softer, almost a whisper. “I’m not gonna be your plaything. You’ve clearly got plenty of those.”

  Sawyer stared back at her. God, she made him absolutely crazy and yet he wanted her with a passion he could hardly restrain. “All those numbers? I gave them to Davis when I left. Just like I do every time I go to the club. If you don’t believe me, call him and ask. I’ll give you his damn number.”

  They stood there in silence for nearly a minute before Kennedy’s eyes darted down to his mouth and Sawyer couldn’t hold back any longer.

  Slowly, he stepped forward until his body was pressed up to hers, their mouths just centimeters apart.

  “For the record,” he told her quietly, “I’m not lookin’ for a plaything.”

  “And I’m not lookin’ for temporary,” Kennedy whispered, her breath fanning over his lips.

  “With you, I would never expect temporary,” he told her honestly.

  “I don’t want to be a flavor of the week,” she countered.

  He knew the back-and-forth could go all damn night if he allowed it, so Sawyer said the only thing he could think of. “You’re the only flavor I want, Kennedy. The only fucking flavor I’ve wanted for a long fucking time.”

  A second passed and he fully expected her rebuttal, but what she did next nearly leveled him. Kennedy’s arms came up, her long, slender fingers sliding over his jaw, and the next thing he knew, their mouths were fused together, her tongue thrusting into his mouth as she held his face firmly between her soft hands.

  In that moment, all thoughts fled, and the only thing Sawyer could focus on was how damn sweet she tasted. She went from defensive and rigid to fire in his arms, pulling him closer, but not close enough. Sawyer wasn’t sure he could get close enough to her. Not unless he was buried to the hilt in her sweet body. Only then would he be able to think straight.

  Sawyer slid his hands into her hair, tangling his fingers into the long silky strands, tilting her head back so that he could control the kiss. He focused on her mouth, teasing, tasting, tormenting until the next thing he knew, Kennedy had pulled his shirt from the waistband of his jeans, her cool fingers sliding beneath his shirt and over his hot skin. A shudder tore through him, his cock throbbing painfully in his jeans as the need to take her right there against the wall was nearly more than he could bear.

  “Kennedy,” he said her name in warning as he pulled back, but then her mouth was on his neck, her teeth nibbling, and he knew that if she kept that up, he was going to nail her to the wall.

  When she attempted to unbutton his shirt, fumbling, he was just about to help, but then she did the sexiest thing he’d ever seen: she pulled the two sections, sending buttons scattering to the carpet beneath their feet.

  “Fucking hell,” he growled, pulling her head back and devouring her mouth once more while she shoved his shirt over his shoulders. She didn’t make it far because he was still holding her head, but that didn’t stop her from raking her nails over his skin. He was caught up in a firestorm of sensation, leaving him damn near mindless as he thrust his tongue into her mouth, sliding it alongside hers. He couldn’t get enough.

  He wasn’t sure that he would ever get enough.

  KENNEDY HAD NO idea what had come over her, but in her entire life, she had never wanted a man the way she wanted Sawyer. She had always prided herself on her self-control, but right there in her living room, she was losing every precious ounce, giving it right up just so she could touch this man. His skin was smooth and hot against her fingertips as she trailed over the hard planes of his chest, moving downward until she encountered the buckle on his belt. It didn’t take long before she managed to free it and the button on his jeans, having less difficulty than she’d had with his shirt.

  The only thing she could think about was getting him inside her. Now. Not five minutes from now. Right this fucking minute. Forcing his zipper down—with as much care as she could muster—Kennedy pushed her hands inside his boxers and found the hard, thick length of him. She inhaled sharply, which only had Sawyer pulling his mouth from hers. She didn’t want him to move, didn’t want him to stop kissing her, but now she couldn’t get past the rigid erection she held in her hands. He was . . . Mother of all things holy, the man was huge, and she suddenly started having second thoughts.

  “Don’t stop, Kennedy,” Sawyer said breathlessly, as though he could read her mind. “Stroke me. Fuck, that feels good.”

  Kennedy pressed her mouth to his chest, licking him, tasting him. All the things she’d dreamed about doing to this man were coming to fruition right there against the wall in her living room and she was so desperate for him, she wasn’t even sure what she was supposed to do next.

  Somehow, while she continued to stroke his hot, smooth length, she toed off her boots. Sawyer helped her out by undoing the button on her jeans, then lowering them over her hips, then down her legs. She didn’t even care that they were both half-dressed, she stepped out of her jeans, kicking them to the side as she pulled him to her.

  “Fuck me,” she moaned, her mouth sliding back up to his. “Right here.”

  Sawyer’s hand left her body and his jeans were pushed down his hips. She heard the crinkling sound of a wrapper and she realized he had somehow had the good sense to retrieve a condom—from where, she wasn’t sure, and she really didn’t give a shit. The next thing she knew, Sawyer had lifted her leg against his hip, one hand wrapped beneath her knee as he used his other hand to move her panties to the side and guide his erection to her entrance. Without finesse, he slammed inside her, sending a torrent of sensation rocketing through every dormant nerve ending inside her.

  “Oh, God, yes,” she cried out, trying to get his mouth on hers, but he held himself back, looking down at her.

  A deep, rumbling growl erupted from his chest as he held himself still briefly. Not wanting him to stop, Kennedy reached around and gripped his ass, digging her fingernails into the hard muscles, pulling him closer.

  “Don’t stop. Please don’t stop,” she pleaded.

  “Kennedy.” The way he said her name had her trying to grind against him, but unable to move because he had her pinned to the wall.

  “Fuck me, Sawyer. Damn it.”

  “Look at me,” he commanded, his voice coarse and so sexy, she could hardly comprehend what he told her.

  When her eyes met his, Sawyer thrust his hips forward, burying himself as deep as he could go, and she cried out again, the intensity overwhelming her.
So good.

  “Don’t close your eyes,” he insisted and only then did she realize she had.

  Forcing her lids open, she stared back at him. The rough sensuality in his gaze was something she’d only imagined seeing, yet there it was, focused intently on her.

  Sawyer lifted her leg higher, making her go up on her toes as he withdrew slowly, then slammed back inside her, an eruption of sensation coalescing in her core. The waves of ecstasy began to build as he drove into her over and over. As long as she kept her eyes locked with his, he gave her what she wanted until she couldn’t breathe for the sheer intensity of the orgasm that was building to a crescendo.

  “I’ve dreamed of watching you come, Kennedy,” Sawyer growled, the words only further fueling the overwhelming desire crashing through her.

  “Sawyer. Oh, God, Sawyer.” Unable to keep her eyes open, Kennedy’s head fell back against the wall as she screamed, her release tearing through her, more intense than anything she’d ever felt before.

  “That’s it, darlin’. Fuck yes.” Sawyer’s hips continued to piston forward and even as she came around him, he didn’t stop, never slowing until another orgasm was building, this one possibly stronger than the first.

  “Yes, baby. Come for me again. Milk my cock, Kennedy.”

  His harsh words were too much and she came again, just as he instructed. This time, his body stilled while he was buried to the hilt inside her, his muscles going rigid, his ass flexing beneath her fingertips as he came inside her, his release setting off mini-explosions in its wake.

  His big body leaned into hers. She welcomed the weight of him because for the first time in her life, she needed something to ground her for she feared she would slide to the floor in a puddle. But more importantly, she needed something to hold on to because she was scared shitless that what she’d felt for this man had only been cemented further after that incredible encounter.

  chapter FIFTEEN

  Sawyer had never kept a running count of the women he’d been with, but he knew for a fact that nothing—absolutely nothing—had ever felt as good as having his dick lodged deep inside Kennedy’s slick heat. As it was, he wasn’t sure he could walk, not after that.

  So, instead of trying, he just stood there, leaning against her, knowing damn well that he was crushing her between him and the wall but he couldn’t find the strength to move.

  “Are you okay?” he asked when he managed to catch his breath.

  “Yes,” she said softly, her fingernails still digging into his ass, holding him to her. He was still hard, which surprised the shit out of him, but he knew he needed a minute—hell, maybe twenty—in order to recover.

  “That was . . .” Sawyer could hardly speak although his breathing was beginning to resume a normal pace. “That was fucking amazing.”

  “I can’t argue with you there,” Kennedy said, her hands slowly sliding up beneath his shirt, caressing the skin of his back. Yeah, they were still clothed. Or mostly anyhow.

  “I think I’m gonna have to sit down,” he told her.

  “Me, too,” she mumbled. “Should we just go to the floor?”

  Her sexy chuckle made him smile. “I was thinkin’ more like we move this to your bedroom.”

  Kennedy’s hands stilled on his back and Sawyer realized immediately what he’d said. However, if she thought he was leaving, she had another thing coming. He didn’t know everything there was to know about the sweet woman in his arms, but he knew for a fact that she wasn’t the fuck-and-run type of woman. But, even if she was, Sawyer wasn’t about to walk away.

  It’d taken him damn near a lifetime—or at least it felt like it—to get to this point and he wasn’t about to let it go. If he left, she’d have too much time to think and there was no telling what she would come up with in that pretty little head of hers.

  So, she was stuck with him for the time being.

  He managed to separate himself from her, removing the condom and then glancing around for a garbage can.

  “Kitchen,” she told him.

  “Gotcha.” He righted his jeans and then disposed of the condom before returning to find Kennedy still leaning against the wall. “Come on, darlin’,” he whispered, admiring how tousled she looked after that little encounter. “Bedroom.”

  Kennedy looked at him, seemingly contemplating what that meant before leaning down and snatching up her jeans. When he held his hand out to her, she reluctantly took it before leading him toward the back of the house.

  She pushed open one of the doors and for the first time he saw Kennedy’s bedroom. Call him crazy, but he’d actually given a lot of thought to what her bedroom looked like. In his head, she would’ve had soft white curtains, maybe a white comforter. What he saw was the opposite of that.

  “Nice,” he told her as he took in her room.

  Her furniture didn’t match the house, but somehow it looked right in her bedroom. Modern and black, the king-sized bed sat proudly, centered between two windows. There were black curtains over wood blinds, and a white comforter with large black flowers on it. He might’ve gotten most of it wrong, but he was right about one thing. There were at least a dozen pillows on the bed, all sitting perfectly aligned.

  “You made your bed,” he said absently.

  Kennedy’s smirk caused something warm to fill his chest. It was an emotion he wasn’t exactly familiar with. Not in this capacity anyway. But he didn’t mind it one bit.

  When she turned to him, her hands sliding up over his chest, he sucked in a breath. Her hands were cool and soft and he wanted more than anything to be inside her again, but this time, he didn’t want to rush things.

  “Mind if I . . .” Sawyer nodded toward the bathroom.

  “Not at all,” she said, taking a step back.

  Sawyer headed for the bathroom. He took care of business then cleaned up, staring at his reflection in the mirror. His shirt was open, and he leaned forward, trying to get a better look at . . . Yep, those were scratches on his chest.

  And the memory of Kennedy putting them there, her hands raking over him while he’d plowed into her, made his dick twitch behind the zipper of his jeans. Looking down at his feet, he realized he still had his boots on. He was tempted to take them off, but he figured he should probably check with Kennedy first. As much as he wanted to believe the decision to stay was his to make, he knew better. More than anything, Sawyer wanted to stay. He wanted to stay the night, wanted to make love to her a dozen more times before the dawn came. And then, after they were both too tired to move, he wanted to spend the rest of the day in her bed, holding her in his arms.

  Stepping out of the bathroom, Sawyer steeled himself for anything she could’ve possibly thrown at him.

  Well, anything except . . . that.

  “Lord have mercy,” he whispered, staring at the beautiful, auburn-haired bombshell that was laid out on her bed like a feast.

  “I figured we’d try to do this the right way,” she said huskily, pulling his eyes up to her face.

  “Yeah?” he asked, not sure what the hell she just said. He was too busy admiring her long, lean body with all of those glorious curves. She was . . . “Perfect.”

  “Come here,” she insisted, her tone firm.

  Sawyer shook his head, trying to regain some of his composure, before pulling his shirt off at the same time he toed off his boots. She did not have to tell him twice. Within a minute, he was standing beside the bed stark naked and it was her turn to look, which she did. He loved that she wasn’t shy about it, either.

  Taking a step closer, Sawyer reached out to touch her. Just one finger though. He used his right index finger and trailed a line up her body, starting at her toes, the top of her foot, her shin, her sexy knee. Smooth, creamy skin called to him and he suddenly had the urge to taste her.

  Everywhere.

  Rather than jump on the bed and cover her with his body, Sawyer made a detour to the bottom of the bed. She had pulled the comforter back and he did one better, yanking it off
the bed and tossing it to the floor at his feet. He offered her a smile, which allowed him to meet her eyes. The answering heat that glimmered in the soft gray depths spurred him on. Gripping both of her ankles, he pulled her toward him. Her startled gasp made him laugh.

  “I’m gonna feast on you for a little while,” he told her.

  “Oh yeah?” she questioned, her voice quivering slightly.

  Rather than go into detail, which he would’ve been more than happy to do, Sawyer lifted her legs, propping them over his shoulders as he bent down. Running his fingers over the smooth skin of her mound—she waxed and he fucking loved that more than he could express—separating her slick folds, teasing her clit only briefly before sliding his finger down to her entrance.

  Leaning all the way forward, he practically bent her in half before he slid his tongue through her sweetness, licking her slowly at first. He wasn’t in a hurry, that was for damn sure.

  “You taste so fucking good,” he groaned, lifting his head only briefly before delving back into her slick folds.

  Sawyer took his time, flicking her clit with his tongue, then sliding lower before plunging into her. Her moans started soft and low, but quickly grew louder. When her fingers slid into his hair, pulling him to her, Sawyer gave her just what she wanted. He pushed two fingers into her pussy, slow and easy at first until she was begging him for more. When the pleasure-pain bolted from his scalp down to his balls, he increased his pace, flicking her clit ruthlessly while fucking her with two fingers.

  “Sawyer,” Kennedy moaned. “It’s too good. So good. Oh, God. Don’t stop. Don’t ever stop, please.”

  He loved how vocal she was, pleading for him to continue, which he certainly did. Several more minutes passed as he alternated between pushing her closer to the brink before pulling back. Over and over again he tongued her pussy, relishing her sweet heat while she tugged his hair, trying to pull him closer.

 

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