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Grace
For once, I was completely content with my course of action. It was as if, when I decided to cross this bridge, life suddenly made sense.
And go figure, it was Sawyer who seemed to be holding back right now. His kiss at the front door and the bulge in his pants told me he was truly on the same page, but it was amusing to see him in his own faraway place. The change in him was extremely subtle, one that not many people would see, so the fact that I saw it made whatever we were doing feel completely right.
We would figure it all out.
But right now, I wasn’t worried about tomorrow or next week. Not even next year.
Right now, I wanted this man in my bed.
Five years ago, he showed me what a great night of sex could be like, and not a single night after topped it since. Maybe it really wasn’t as great as I remembered, but I was ready to figure out if it was or not.
Even if sex with Sawyer was mediocre, which I highly doubted it would be, I would take it over blah sex with another man. Sawyer was where my heart was. Where it had always been.
After I removed his belt, the flip was switched.
Gone were the frantic kisses paired with slow hands, and in their place was a rush of motions as both of our hands intermixed, disrobing one another. I cleared his shirt from his body; he lowered my shorts—that I wore with nothing underneath—and I stepped out of the flannel material, leaving me in my long shirt and nothing else. I lifted my arms to help Sawyer remove my sleep shirt and before I could put my hands back on the warm skin of his taut abdomen, his hands were unbuckling his jeans.
I moved my hands to lower his zipper but he put his hand in front of me.
“Let me do it.”
I stepped back, put off, and looked up at him with a brow raised. Really?
“God, Grace, stop looking at me like that,” he groaned. His voice was strained with need. “I just…You’re fucking naked and I want to press my lips all over your body, but I gotta get this fucking gun off.”
I forgot about his gun. “Oh. Yeah.” I crossed my arms, slightly uncomfortable with the fact that they made a shelf for my boobs. However, I was intrigued. I watched as he pulled the holster out of the inside waistband of his jeans, held there by just two little clips. When he looked around for a place to put it, I pointed to my single nightstand. “You can put it there.”
He moved around me. The man moved so fluidly it was like watching him float through my room. He just felt right here, in my space. With his jeans unbuckled and unzipped, I thought for sure he would just pull them down and be done with it but no, he couldn’t just do the easy thing.
Standing beside the nightstand, he reached for my hand and pulled me toward him as he sat down on the edge of the mattress. I stood between his parted thighs and put my hands on his thick, corded shoulders. The man was built. I was sure there were plenty of cops out there that had ‘dad bods’ and poor physiques, but Sawyer looked like he put in a lot of time at the gym. I pressed my thumbs into the front of his shoulders, digging into the groove of his collar bone, and he moaned.
“We’ll have to play masseuse later,” he said with his eyes closed. He moved his hands to my hips and I squealed, as embarrassing as that was, as he lifted me into his lap, my legs wrapping behind him. My open, uncovered core was against his open fly and just beyond that, past a thin layer of fabric, was the heaviness I ached for.
“God, Grace,” Sawyer said on a moan. “You feel so fucking good, and I’m not even in you yet.”
“I need you, Sawyer,” I whispered, leaning into him and pressing my lips to his. My hands were in his hair and his were sliding from my waist, up, up, up, until he cupped the weight of my breasts in his hands. I wanted to grind myself down onto him, but didn’t think that the delicate skin down there was a good match for his open fly.
I wanted his pants off.
“Off. Your pants,” I murmured against his mouth, trying to wiggle myself back and off of him. Unfortunately, or fortunately, however you looked at it, the little room I gave him allowed him to snake his hand between our bodies and his fingers were there.
The pressure of his middle finger over my clit had my hips rocking. Oh God. He didn’t do anything other than hold his finger there for what felt like a long torturous minute, but he eventually moved it so the tip flicked over the bundle of nerves. So slowly. Good lord, this man. I didn’t remember him being such a tease before.
Again, he slowly flicked his finger over me and now even his mouth was lazily moving over mine, the kiss full but done at a leisurely pace. Was the man trying to kill me?
“Sawyer,” I whined into his mouth, my body ready to explode, but needing a little more.
His answer was a chuckle against my mouth. A chuckle!
But it was quickly groaned out when he moved his fingers back, sliding two fingers into me at once with ease. “So fucking wet.” His eyes were open and on mine, and I had to fight to keep mine open.
I bit on my lower lip, my hips shifting just a fraction, as he pushed his fingers fully into me. I tested the fullness by squeezing around the digits.
“Fuck, Gracie. God I can’t wait to get in you. So tight.” He pulled his fingers out, so freaking slowly again—what was with the slow?—and pushed them back in, this time brushing his thumb over my clit when his fingers were fully inside. I couldn’t keep my mouth on his. I couldn’t concentrate with his hand playing magic below.
As torturous as his going slow was, it was working for me. Each slow push and drag of his thick fingers in me, curling into my warm walls, had me closer and closer to the edge. I drew my knees up, angling my hips in the process. Sawyer moved his elbows to allow my knees to press into his sides, his arms holding them into place. The entire time, his occupied hand was still below, teasing and taunting me.
My head dropped back, feeling too heavy as my body worked at reaching the ledge. Sawyer took that as his cue to ramp up his game. His mouth went to my neck, placing open mouthed kisses that were light enough to not leave a mark, but his hand…
His hand began to quickly move, short and quick moves as my muscles clamped down on him. Close, so close, until finally I was there.
With a shout, I squeezed my knees into his sides and arched my back, bowing my body and bringing my head forward, my chin dropped to my chest. The movement caused my hips to back up slightly, but Sawyer wasn’t finished and wasn’t letting me get away. His fingers continued moving in and out, slowing down, as my body clenched and unclenched around him.
“So fucking wet. God, Gracie, you’re so fucking beautiful,” he whispered into my ear.
I would have smiled but my body was exhausted.
And more than ready for the next part.
