Holy hell. Or maybe heaven.
I didn’t even know anymore…
Digging his fingers into the side of my leg, he pulled my thigh further on his shoulder, plunging both his tongue and the popsicle into me at the same time. I cried out and bucked under him as he worked me, moaning his name over and over again until the syllables melted into one another and the name “Sawyer” just became one extremely long cry of pleasure.
My entire world consisted of four earth-shattering sensations: the tantalizing hardness of this tongue, the exciting coldness of the popsicle, the euphorically painful sharpness of his teeth, and the soothing warmth of his lips.
With other guys, I would’ve been overanalyzing this very moment. Without a doubt, I would’ve felt vulnerable and worried about being so exposed. But no feelings of anxiety accompanied my intimate moments with Sawyer.
If someone had told me that, one day, I would be standing naked in front of him and unabashedly enjoying every moment of his superhuman exploration of my body, I wouldn’t have believed them. But here I was, and I didn’t care how I looked in midst of losing control. I was so turned on I could hardly think.
All I knew was that Sawyer and I felt right.
So, so right.
I enjoyed surrendering all control and letting him take the reins for a while. I had no doubts that he would guide me toward the gratifying rapture he promised with every expert stroke and each hard kiss. I’d spent too much time striving for power over every aspect of my life, guarding myself from experiences that should’ve been enjoyable and freeing. Sometimes a seemingly trivial thing like a kiss could also be the most beautiful, erotic thing in the world.
With the right person, of course.
And Sawyer was definitely the right person for me. My body responded to him with such familiarity and ease. All he had to do was shoot me one look with those bright green eyes and I was ready and willing to do anything he demanded.
With each touch, I wanted to come undone for him, bear my body, mind, and soul for him. Even after all these years, I trusted him with my whole heart. He’d always been my second half—the only person who could ever make me feel whole.
At the same time, he had the skill to surprise me and make me feel things I’d never imagined could be possible. This grown-up version of Sawyer was different from the guy I used to know. He was no longer a wounded, confused boy.
He was possessive and commanding, but not egotistically demanding. He made me feel so wanted, while at the same time assuring me that I was wanted in all the right ways.
For me. All of me.
And right now, as the television light illuminated his muscular back, bathing his smooth skin in a soft, silver glow, I wanted all of him too. Desperate to show him just how much I needed him, I clutched his shoulders with my hands, digging my fingers into the tattoos along his back.
With all my might, I urged him to stand so that I could have his entire length against me. He grunted out loud as my nails sank into his skin, but followed my command and flooded my entire body with hot kisses as he trailed his way up to my lips.
The popsicle hit the floor with a soft thud, and his long fingers enveloped both of my wrists. Pinning my arms above my head, he hooked his free hand underneath my thigh, gently lifting my leg and wrapping it around him. I followed his lead with my other leg until both limbs were firmly locked around his hips. The only thing keeping me in place was Sawyer’s strength and the hard wall behind me.
“I love not watching movies with you,” he murmured huskily before he annihilated my mouth with his, ravenously sucking on my lips.
The rough fabric of his jeans was the only thing separating us now. As he continued to thrust against me, a sudden burst of carnal desire detonated within me, accompanied by a rush of wetness between my thighs. Excited shivers traveled down my legs as I moved my hips in rhythm to Sawyer’s pumps, desperate to feel him inside me.
My mind was spinning. “I want…”
“What do you want, baby?” Sawyer urged, intensifying his grip. Raw lust pulsed through each one of his words.
“I…need…” I breathed, unable to finish the sentence. A frantic longing for release claimed my body.
Sawyer halted his movements and dipped his forehead to mine. His lips were red and his eyes looked hazy. “Tell me what you need, Silver.”
“You,” I whispered into his mouth. “I want…I need you.” My words were both a demand and a plea as I tangled my fingers through his hair. “More of you. All of you. I want you…to…”
“To what, Silver? Tell me,” he commanded. “Say it.”
“To make me come,” I exhaled, startled by the powerful boldness coursing through me. Sawyer had a way of unlocking my desires and tearing down my inhibitions.
With him, I wasn’t afraid. Of anything.
He seemed pleasantly surprised by my brazen demand. “Is that what you want?”
Hell yes! I nodded impatiently. “Please.”
“You have no idea how sexy you are right now, Silver,” he groaned, firmly grasping onto my hips. “Though I should probably warn you…I’m not going to stop until I’m sure that your request has been properly fulfilled. And then some.”
Smiling wickedly, he lowered me to the ground. Spreading my legs, he reprised his place between my thighs, once again plunging me into dangerous depths of maddening bliss. This time, instead of the popsicle, two skillful fingers accompanied his mouth.
Oh, God…oh, God…oh, Saaaawyer!
It wasn’t long before I was quivering and panting his name, forcing him to grunt out loud and increase the intensity with which he lured me toward what promised to be a world-shattering, body-splitting, mind-numbing climax.
“I love hearing you moan like that,” he said into me. “My name…at the back of your throat…inside your mouth…sliding from your lips—it’s such an incredible turn-on.”
Holy shit. Why did those words drive me so wild?
He wasn’t even saying anything naughty, but something about the weight of his low, raspy voice made them sound so deliciously filthy. My nipples tightened and a rush of heat spread through my body, shooting into my already soaked core.
There was no way that I could hold on any longer.
I was eager to unravel and burst into a puddle of pure liquid pleasure, but Sawyer wasn’t letting me have what I wanted. Not yet, anyway. He was in complete control of my release and he was drawing out my pleasure.
Taunting me. Teasing me.
Bringing me right to the edge with fast, hard, expert strokes, only to pull away and slow down just as I was ready to jump off the cliff. Each thrust of his fingers and every lick of his tongue left me craving, wanting, needing more of him.
Though I knew it was medically impossible, I was pretty sure that I was going to die from pleasure. Shouting Sawyer’s name, I pleaded with him, and he responded by giving me more of him—faster pumps, deeper plunges, extra pressure with his tongue.
I shut my eyes and blinding stars appeared in front of my lids, their sparkling brilliance matching the powerful throbbing inside me. For a brief moment all I could hear were our heavy breaths and the primal sounds of our combined pleasure—Sawyer’s groans melted into my moans and his ragged pants were swallowed up by my delighted cries. As he carried me toward the climax I so desperately craved, I surrendered every ounce of control and let him own all of me.
He lifted his eyes so that they met mine, intensifying the pressure of his hot, wet mouth as he worshipped me from below. His look was indescribable—a mixture of adoration, passion, devotion, and desire. Tender, but sinful. Loving, yet lustful.
“Silver…” he breathed as I rocked my hips against him. “God, Silver. You taste so good.”
The combination of his touch, his gaze, and those words sent me tumbling over the edge. My skin was on fire; my blood boiled inside my veins and turned into molten lava as hot waves of excitement rocked me from inside out.
Both my heart and my body burst a
part in the most erotically sensual way possible, shattering into a million different pieces. I didn’t mind breaking in front of him; I knew that he would be there to catch me and put me back together.
Dizzy and spent, I collapsed into him, steadying myself by placing my hands on his shoulders. He grasped my wrists and pulled me down to the floor, cradling me on his lap as he brought his mouth to mine. The kiss that followed was sweet and tender, a gentle culmination of the passion we just shared.
“You’re right,” I whispered against his mouth. “I do taste like lime popsicles.”
He swallowed my smile with another kiss. “I always knew you would,” he murmured softly.
“Always?” I narrowed my eyes teasingly. “You make it sound like you’ve been thinking about this for a while.”
A low chuckle rumbled deep within his chest. “Don’t underestimate the imagination of a teenage boy, Silver.” He wrapped his arms around my waist and dipped his lips to my neck.
“So you’re a good instructor and a great medic,” I mused out loud as his teeth grazed my jaw. “What else can you do?”
“So many things, baby,” he murmured against my skin. “But you’ll have to stick around to find out.”
“I guess I will.” My smile dissolved as I counted the days left in my vacation.
Four.
Only four.
We would be going back to reality on Friday.
That night, as I drifted off to sleep in Sawyer’s arms, a memory that had been buried in the dark crevices of my mind for a very long time suddenly began to seep out. It was the worst memory of my life—one that had Sawyer lying in my arms, staining my shirt with his tears. It clawed out of the shadows and choked away the warmth of my happiness.
We’re lying on my bed and I’m holding Sawyer’s head between my hands as he presses his face into my lap. His body shakes violently as he sobs. I’d never seen him cry and the vision breaks my heart.
I’m too numb to shed a single tear. Lyla’s death still hasn’t fully sunk in. How can someone so kind, so beautiful, and so innocent be forced to meet such a devastating end?
Her father. Right. An abusive drunkard. A poor excuse for a man who doesn’t deserve his family. So why is it that he’s still alive and Lyla is gone?
Sawyer’s practically gone too. I’m afraid he’s about to break apart right here in my hands. No matter how much his father had hurt him over the years, he’d never showed weakness. He pushed through every punch and swallowed the pain of every cut so that he could protect his sister from the monster’s wrath. He never cried. But now, now…I don’t know if he can get through this. I’m not sure if he can come back from this darkness.
“She was all alone when she locked herself in that bathroom,” he sobbed, fisting the fabric of my skirt between his fingers. “She was all alone with no one to hold her!”
Sawyer had been away at a tournament and their mother spent the weekend working at the supermarket. It wasn’t until the neighbours in the apartment below saw the water begin to leak through their ceiling that they found her.
Bloody, red water…
With a heart-shattering half moan, half groan, Sawyer grabs my shirt and pulls me into him. “They’re not even pressing any fucking charges, Silver!” He scowls. “Because she committed suicide. How about charging my fucking father for years of abuse that drove her to slit her wrists? How about that? Huh?!” Goosebumps cover my entire body as his painful cry resonates though my chest.
A simple “Shh…” is all I can manage. There are no words to help ease Sawyer’s pain.
“I’m going to fucking kill him. I’m going to rip his head off.”
“No, you’re not.” I brush strands of hair from his face. “You’re going to spend the night right here in my bed.”
“I need to get out of this place,” he moans.
“I’m not letting you go anywhere.” I wipe away the tear sliding down his cheek. “My parents will be away all weekend so we’ll stay here and I’ll take care of you. Adam won’t say anything. I’ll make sure of it.” I can’t let Sawyer go back to that apartment. I’m scared of what he will do.
“I’m not talking about leaving your room,” he says. “I’m talking about getting the hell out of this godforsaken place. This city. My house. My fucking life.” I’ve never seen his eyes looks like this. Instead of the clear bright green color, his irises are so dark they’re almost black.
“Shh…”I repeat, desperately wishing I had something better to say.
“I need to call up every sponsor that has ever expressed any interest in me.” He looks around the room manically. “Graduation is a few weeks away. After that, I’m getting as far away as they’ll send me. China. Europe. Canada. I don’t care. Just not here.”
The resolve in his voice tells me that he’s already gone. Previously, whenever we discussed what he was going to do after high school, Sawyer had talked about college and staying in Aspen to train so that he could be only a few hours from Denver. Despite my parents’ strict rules, we were determined to find a way to see each other and continue our friendship. But I now know that he’s going to run as far away from Colorado as humanly possible. And he’s going to leave me behind.
That day, my heart breaks in more ways than one. It shatters for Lyla. It explodes for Sawyer. And it ruptures for me because, once again, I’m unable to save the one person in the world I love more than life itself.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
The piercing ring of my phone woke me at the crack of dawn. Slipping out of the bed, I quickly crossed over to the door, trying not to wake up Sawyer in the process. He was still sleeping soundly, his dark hair falling over his face in messy waves, his bare chest rising and falling with each breath he took.
I didn’t even have to check the caller ID before picking up. Only one person ever called this early. My mother. Any normal child would probably worry that something bad had happened to warrant a before-sunrise call, but this was a regular occurrence for Lydia Silver.
“What is it?” I grumbled, yawning sleepily.
“Is that any way to greet your mother?”
“When she calls before six in the morning, it is.”
“Were you up partying?” Her voice oozed judgment. I could practically hear it dripping off each word.
“No.” I was up doing something much better, but I wasn’t about to share that with her.
“Luanne Stonewall called last night.” My mother never told the whole story in one piece. She relished in having others drag it out of her.
“Oh?”
“She said that Preston had something very important to talk to her about.”
“Is that so?” A sense of pride washed over me. Hopefully, Preston had gathered enough courage to come out to his parents.
“I’m assuming he proposed to you this weekend.” She sounded impatient. “Why didn’t you call?”
“He didn’t propose.”
“No?” There was a long pause as she inhaled deeply, probably realizing that she’d spoken too soon and spoiled the surprise. She didn’t dwell on it for too long, because she quickly added, “Well then. I’m sure he will. And I expect that you’ll say yes.” It wasn’t a question.
“Uhh...” There was no way in hell that we could have this conversation right now. If I told her that Preston and I weren’t getting married, I’d probably be forced to come back to Denver and explain myself in person or risk having her come up here. Then she would insist I see a shrink to evaluate exactly which part of my brain wasn’t working properly. Because there obviously had to be something wrong with me to not want to marry someone like Preston Stonewall.
I put the phone on the counter, turned on the speaker, and busied myself with making a cup of coffee as my mother continued to talk.
“We’ll have to make an announcement right away,” she said. “You’ll want to get married before starting your program in the fall. Even though that will give us hardly enough time to find the perfect venue and plan t
he perfect party.” Once again, it wasn’t a question.
I nearly dropped my mug when she gasped and shouted, “Did you know that the Stonewalls are friends with Governor Richards and his wife?! How many people can say that a governor attended their wedding? You’re a very lucky girl, Dylan.”
“So lucky.” I slowly started to tune her out.
“I don’t like that sarcastic tone,” she chastised. “I know that this is overwhelming, but Luanne and I will take care of all the planning.”
If a wedding was really going to take place, I had no doubts that I would have absolutely no say in anything—down to my dress.
How could I be trusted to choose the perfect dress to impress the governor?
“Don’t worry about any of the details,” my mother said. “You and Preston will just have to show up.”
Don’t forget to bring the shotgun, I wanted to say, but chose not to provoke her. The sooner she stopped talking about the wedding that was never going to happen, the faster I could go back to bed. And Sawyer.
“After all, you’ll be very busy all summer,” she said. “I spoke with Doctor Forrest and he’s agreed to take you on.”
“Take me on?”
“As a volunteer. At his practice,” she explained.
“He’s a podiatrist, mother.”
“The very best!”
“You know my area of interest is in pediatrics, right? Kids, not feet.”
“Yes, dear, but he’s one of the most respected doctors in the state. A reference from him will be worth its weight in gold on any resume.”
Sighing loudly, I massaged the tension that had suddenly built up in my shoulders. “I told you not to ask Doctor Forrest for any favors on my behalf.”
“Trust me, Dylan. This is what you need.”
“Is that so?” I snapped.
As always, she ignored me. “Is there any way you could end your little trip with Maddie sooner?” she asked. “Doctor Forrest wants to meet with you on Thursday and I told him you’d be available.”
“Mother.” Yet another case of her thinking it was acceptable to speak for me. “I just finished four years of school. This is my one week off before many more years school. One tiny week. Can’t you at least let me have that before sinking your claws into your next project concerning my life?”
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