by Katie Lane
Sawyer nodded as he signed. Yeah. Everything is okay. I tried to tell her she made a bad choice and I’m the best brother, but she refused to listen.
Matt didn’t laugh. You are the best brother.
Sawyer signed back. No, you are. He pulled Mattie in for a hug. It had been a while so he held on a little tighter and longer. When he drew back there were tears in both their eyes.
Cry baby. Mattie signed.
Wuss. Sawyer signed back. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go show Maisy that not all Dawsons suck at dancing.
Mattie grinned and flipped him off. Sawyer laughed as he stood and took off his jacket and hung it over the back of his chair. He held out a hand to Maisy.
“Dance with me, cowgirl.”
She took his hand and let him pull her to her feet. “Are you sure about this? This is a country swing and the steps might be a little too complicated for a rodeo bum like you.”
He cocked an eyebrow at her. “I think I can manage.” Once on the dance floor, he caught the beat with his feet before he reeled her into his chest and then spun her back out and into a series of twirls that left her wobbling on her boot heels. Her eyes went wide.
“I underestimated you, Sawyer Dawson,” she said. “But now I know you can handle me, hold on to your hat.”
He laughed as he continued to twirl her around the dance floor. They were perfect partners. She allowed him to take the lead, but then added some moves of her own as the dance continued. When the song was over, they were both out of breath and laughing. They stayed on the dance floor for the rest of the night. They danced polkas and two-steps and country swings and line dances until the DJ played the last waltz of the night.
Without a word, they came together and shuffled around the floor in perfect sync.
“Not bad for a rodeo bum,” she teased.
“Not bad for a sassy cowgirl.”
She adjusted her arms around his neck and her fingers brushed the hair on his nape, sending a shiver of awareness through him. “Where did you learn to dance like that?” she asked.
“Where else? In the honky-tonks of all the rodeo towns I’ve been in. Isn’t that where you learned?”
She shook her head. “Nope. I learned from my mama. She loves to dance. Before she met my stepdaddy, we would dance in our living room almost every night.”
“You’re close to your mama?”
She nodded. “We used to be much closer. Once she married my stepdaddy, things changed. I started feeling a little like the dried-out leftover pancake nobody wants. Of course, by then I was in high school and doing my own thing, so it wasn’t a big deal.”
He knew by the way she didn’t keep eye contact that it had been a big deal. “That had to be adjustment to go from having your mom’s full attention to having to share it. Is that why you went looking for your father?”
“That was part of it. Part of it had to do with my foolish belief that he had a good reason for leaving my mama and never contacting me.” Her gaze lowered to the open collar of his shirt. “And what’s even more foolish is I’m still hanging on to that belief. No matter what people have told me about Sam, I still think he would’ve loved me if he’d had the chance.”
The words broke Sawyer’s heart. He reached down and lifted her chin until her gaze met his. “He would’ve. If he had met you, Maisy Sweeney, there’s no way he couldn’t have loved you.” A longing entered her eyes. A longing so deep it took his breath away. He recognized that longing. It was something he struggled with too. The longing to be loved for who you are.
The song ended. But they kept on dancing, their gazes locked. It was a hotel employee who finally broke their trance and informed them that everyone needed to clear the ballroom so they could clean it.
They didn’t say anything as they went back to the table and Sawyer put on his jacket and hat. But whatever had taken place on the dance floor still hovered over them. They headed to the elevator. Once inside, Sawyer pushed the button for their floor.
The doors closed.
And they were alone.
Sawyer turned to Maisy at the same time as she turned to him.
Her hair was a mass of messy curls. Her makeup was smudged beneath her big brown eyes. And the peach lipstick she’d worn earlier was long since gone. She didn’t look perfect. She looked . . . breathtaking. Gorgeous. Ravishing. But mostly she looked . . . comfortable. Like a perfectly worn-in pair of boots.
He couldn’t deny himself that comfort for a second longer. He pulled her into his arms and kissed her. It was like their dancing. They were immediately in sync, their mouths moving together in a heated slide of lips and tongues. His hands tightened on her hips and drew her closer until her petite body was snuggled up against his. Need like he had never known washed over him in wave after crashing wave. He wanted to climb inside her and disappear forever.
The door pinged open on their floor. Without pulling back from the kiss, Sawyer scooped her up in his arms and carried her out of the elevator. It was only at his room that he broke the kiss and lowered her feet to the floor so he could fish his key from his jacket pocket. Once inside, he took off his hat and tossed it at the desk before he pressed her back against the door and took another taste of her sweet, soft mouth. She tasted like wedding cake and beer.
But mostly she tasted like Maisy.
Chapter Sixteen
Maisy knew what was happening. Sawyer was still hurting over Lauren and he was using her to ease his pain and make him forget that his brother had just married the woman he loved. If Maisy had any self-respect or willpower, she would push him away and tell him she didn’t play second fiddle to anyone.
But she didn’t have any willpower. At least not where Sawyer was concerned. When he touched her, nothing seemed to matter but him touching her again and again. She knew it was wrong. She knew she’d regret it in the morning. But if she could have one night with Sawyer, she didn’t mind playing second fiddle. She’d play it for all she was worth.
She loved him. She knew that now.
She’d started off lusting after the sexy rodeo cowboy, but she’d fallen hard for the man she’d discovered beneath the cocky smile and bad boy façade. The last few weeks had made her realize her infatuation with him had never been about sex. It had been about the rascally rodeo bum who had always treated her as an equal. The kind-hearted animal lover who saved a horse. The responsible man who refused to leave the woman he’d impregnated. The loving brother who sacrificed so much for his twin. She loved all the sides of Sawyer. She couldn’t pretend to be just his friend any longer. Not when she wanted so much more. Even though she knew he would never love her back, she still wanted this night.
As he fed her heated kisses, she slowly unbuttoned his shirt. When she reached his waistband, she tugged it free from his pants. She drew back from the kiss to look at the hard muscle and smooth skin that peeked between the edges of his open shirt.
“I want to touch you,” she said. “I’ve wanted to touch you for a long time.” She slid her hands in the opening and pushed the shirt and his jacket off his broad shoulders. He was so beautiful it hurt. Or maybe what hurt was knowing that tonight would be her only chance to enjoy his beautiful, sculpted body.
She reached out and placed her hand on one hard pectoral muscle. Beneath her palm, his chest stopped rising and falling as the muscle flexed. She stopped breathing too as she brushed her thumb over his nipple and watched it pebble. His breath hissed out and he rested a hand on the door behind her as if holding himself up. His head lowered close to hers, his words falling softly against her ear.
“I want to touch you too, Maze. And I’ve wanted to for a long time.”
She looked up into his blue-gray eyes that had starred in so many of her fantasies. “Then touch me.”
He leaned closer, his lips sending a tingle of heat through her body as he spoke against her neck. “Where? Where to you want me to touch you?”
She leaned her head back on the door and closed her e
yes. “Everywhere. I want you to touch me everywhere.”
He kissed his way up her neck, mixing moist sips with tender nips. When he reached the muscle just behind her ear, he bit down a little harder, then sucked the sensitive skin into his mouth. An electrical current shot straight to her panties and she rolled her head against the door as he continued to kiss his way under her chin to the other side of her neck. He didn’t seem to be in any hurry. Each kiss was slow and thorough and left her struggling to breathe. Finally, he moved his lips from her neck. But rather than kiss her mouth, he kissed her cheeks and her nose.
“I love your freckles,” he said between kisses. “They’re sexy as hell.”
“Freckles aren’t sexy.”
He drew back, and his eyes were heavy-lidded as he studied her face. “They are on you. I’ve spent a lot of time trying to remember the other places you have freckles. The secret places.” While she melted at his words, he slid his finger over her chin and down her throat to the neckline of her dress. “I spent lot of time fantasizing about licking those freckles like sprinkles covering an ice cream cone. Will you let me lick you like ice cream, Maze?” She swallowed hard and nodded slowly. A smile played on his lips. “I always knew you were a generous woman.”
He lowered his hand from the door and reached for the hem of her dress. He slowly inched it up, his fingers leaving a burning trail of fire in their wake as they slid over her thighs, her hipbones, her stomach, her breasts. By the time he swept the dress over her head, she was a quivering hot mess of desire.
His breathing was shallow as his eyes traveled over her body. “Lord have mercy, woman.” Maisy had never felt sexy in her life. But standing in front of Sawyer’s hot gaze in nothing but her skimpy underwear and boots, she felt sexy as hell.
He looked at her for a long time before he slid a finger under the strap of her bra and slipped it off her shoulder until one breast popped out. His chest rose and fell much faster now, and so did hers. He wet his lips with his tongue, then cupped her breast in his warm palm. He didn’t squeeze. He just held it as if it were something extremely precious. Then he dipped his head and kissed her nipple. Softly. Just a bare brush of lips. Desire rocketed through Maisy and had her moaning deep in her throat.
“Ahh, Maze,” he breathed against her nipple. “I love to hear you moan.” He kissed her breast again. This time, deeper and wetter. She moaned again, but it ended on more of a loud “ahh” when he pulled her nipple into his hot mouth.
Her knees turned to liquid and she had to grab onto his head to keep from slipping to the floor. But he refused to stop his torture. He slid down her other bra strap and gave her right breast the same wet, heated attention as he’d given the left. When she was nothing but a pile of tingling nerve endings, he lowered to his knees.
“What are you doing?” she asked breathlessly.
He glanced up at her and smiled. “Licking my sprinkles.” With his gaze locked with hers, he hooked her panties and eased them down her thighs. From the moment his mouth touched her, Maisy was lost in sensations so intense she couldn’t breathe or move. All she could do was hold onto Sawyer’s head as he worked his hot magical tongue on her body. He knew the exact pace and rhythm to send her flying over the edge. As she fell into orgasmic oblivion, she cried out his name like a prayer.
“Sawyer!”
He gently brought her back to earth with soft kisses and gentle licks. Her knees finally gave out and she slid to the floor. When she opened her eyes, Sawyer was still kneeling in front of her, but now he wore a cocky smile. She figured he’d pretty much earned it.
She blew out her breath. “That was good.”
He arched an eyebrow. “Good? Good is just like saying something is okay. Men prefer words like phenomenal. Amazing. Mind-blowing.”
She laughed. “Fine. It was mind-blowing.”
He sent her a sexy look that sizzled right through her. “And we’ve only just begun.” He got to his feet and lifted her into his arms. He carried her to the bed and laid her down on the soft, puffy duvet. He tried to remove her panties, but they were tangled around her boots. Maisy started to toe off her boots, but he stopped her.
“Uh-uh.” He untangled the panties and tossed them over his shoulder. “The boots stay on.”
“Are you saying you want to ride me with my boots on, Sawyer Dawson?”
He grinned. “Actually, I thought you’d ride me. You think you’re up for it?”
“I think I can handle it, cowboy.” She sat up and reached for his belt buckle. She much preferred men in jeans than dress pants, but she had to admit dress pants were much easier to get off. Once she slid the zipper down, they pooled around Sawyer’s boots and she was left looking at an impressive bulge beneath the black cotton of his boxer briefs.
She glanced up at him and smiled as she hooked her fingers in the elastic waistband. “Let’s see if you have any sprinkles.”
He didn’t have any freckles. Or if he did, she didn’t notice them when his hard length sprang out to greet her. She took him in hand, enjoying the growling sound he made deep in his throat as she slid her fist up and down his smooth, hot thickness. She wanted to give him the same intense orgasm he had given her, but she only got one deep taste before he drew away.
“I can’t wait to be inside you, Maze. Deep inside you.” He toed off his boots and stepped out of his pants and underwear. He pulled his wallet from the pocket of his pants. Once the condom was on, he joined her on the bed.
It felt so good to have Sawyer’s skin touching her skin. But it was nothing compared to how good it felt when he slid deep inside her. The joining of their bodies didn’t just make her feel good physically. It went deeper than that. For the first time in a long time, she didn’t feel alone. She felt like a puzzle piece that had been snapped into place. She felt like she belonged.
Sawyer started to move and the feeling of rightness grew with each deep, slow thrust. It felt like he was building a warm and cozy fire inside her. Each stroke caused the embers to burn hotter and hotter until they ignited and the flames engulfed her. As she reached orgasm, Sawyer thrust harder and faster, heightening the feelings cascading through her. When he groaned out his climax, she hit another high that held her suspended. Drained, their bodies melted together like two drops of hot wax merging into one. They lay there breathing hard with Sawyer’s face pressed into the spot between her shoulder and neck.
She could’ve stayed there forever.
But after only a moment, he rolled off her and got up to head to the bathroom. She should leave now. It would make everything easier. He wouldn’t feel awkward and neither would she. But just as she got up to search for her clothes, he came back. She’d felt sexy just a little while ago in her boots and nothing else. Now she felt like a cheap hussy. She shielded herself with her hands as her face flamed.
His eyebrows lifted. “What are you doing?”
“Uhh . . . I was going to get dressed.”
“You don’t want to cuddle?”
Cuddle? The word totally threw her off balance. Sawyer was a cuddler? No matter how much she might regret it later, she couldn’t pass up an offer like that.
She toed off her boots. “Actually, I love to cuddle.”
Once they were back in bed, he pulled her close and covered them with the comforter. He released his breath in a long satisfied sigh, and Maisy listened as his heart slowed to a soft, steady thump beneath her ear. She thought he’d fallen asleep, but then he spoke.
“You’re a hit with my family. My brother loves you. My parents want you to come for Thanksgiving. And Uncle David spent a good fifteen minutes telling me what a wonderful girl you are and how I should hang on to you.”
She smiled. “I like your family too.” She hesitated. “They all seem to be worried about your bronc riding. They seem to think that you’re not meeting your potential.”
“What can I say?” His fingers caressed her arm. “I’m an underachiever.”
“Your uncle doesn’t think it�
��s underachieving. He thinks it has more to do with your brother. He thinks you strive to be the bad boy so Mattie can be the good one.” She realized she had overstepped her bounds when he stopped caressing her arm and tensed.
“Mattie is the good one.”
She lifted her head. “So are you, Sawyer. You can’t fool me anymore. I know you’re a good man. I get why you underachieved when you were younger. It was the only way you could figure out how to balance things for your brother. But I don’t think you have to balance things anymore. Mattie is an adult who has found his own happiness.” She paused. “Is that why you didn’t fight for Lauren? Mattie’s happiness is more important than yours?”
He shrugged. “What good would fighting have done? They love each other.”
“Fighting isn’t just about the winning. It’s about feeling like you have the right to be mad and the right to fight for what you want. But with Mattie, you don’t think you have a right to want anything, do you, Sawyer?”
He looked away, and in the light coming from the bathroom, she could see the tears glistening in his eyes. “I’ve already been given everything. I was born with it, while Mattie was born deaf.” He looked back at her. “He will never hear the beauty of music. Or the sounds of nature. Or his mother’s voice. Or his children’s laughter. How can I possibly take anything else from him?”
Maisy stared at him as the truth dawned. “You didn’t take his hearing, Sawyer. That wasn’t your fault. For whatever reason, God made that choice. Not you. And you need to stop paying for it. You don’t owe anything to Mattie, except your love.”
He closed his eyes and let his head drop back to the pillow. “I know that, but I can’t seem to stop feeling like I do.”
It broke her heart to see Sawyer suffering, but she knew sympathy was the last thing he needed or wanted. She sat up and straddled him. When his eyes opened in surprise, she leaned closer to his face and spoke in a no-nonsense voice.
“Now that’s about enough of your pity party, Sawyer Dawson. You were blessed with good hearing and you need to be thankful for that. And having hearing certainly hasn’t made your life any better than your brother’s. Or his any worse than yours. He’s a successful veterinarian while you’re a poor rodeo bum. He’s happily married while you’re sleeping with every buckle bunny you run into—all because you decided you needed to be the bad boy. Well, the jig is up, Saw. You’re not that bad. So stop letting guilt ruin your life and start enjoying what God gave you. If you don’t, I can’t be your friend anymore. I’m not friends with idiots.”
