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On the fireplace mantel, he saw a framed family portrait that had to have been taken not long before the accident that killed both Astrid and Brent McIntyre, Kat’s father. Kat looked like a younger, happier version of the woman he knew, surrounded by the parents who loved her.
He noticed it was the only picture around the house. There was nothing more recent. He supposed that was because she didn’t want to have pictures taken of herself alone. It seemed like a depressing thing to do, although the idea had never occurred to him until now. He’d always had more family than he knew what to do with. Lately, he’d gained a sister and two new brothers-in-law. He didn’t know what it would be like to be alone in the world the way Kat was.
“How do you take your coffee?” Kat asked, as she came into the room with two mugs on a small tray.
“Black, normally, but it’s too late for that. Cream, no sugar, or I’ll be up all night.”
Kat looked at him curiously for a moment, the curve of her mouth inching upward in an amused expression before she nodded and set the tray down on the coffee table. Thinking over his words in the current context of being alone in her house late at night, he could see why. Coffee or not, he might very well be up all night. God, he wanted to be up all night.
He was about to sit down on the sofa when he noticed her fidgeting in her lace dress. “Would you like to change out of your party clothes? You seem uncomfortable.”
“Yes,” she said with a relieved sigh, as she poured cream into his coffee and then straightened. “This lace has gotten itchier as the night goes on. I just hope I can get ahold of the zipper.”
“I can get that for you,” Sawyer offered.
Kat’s gaze fixed on his for a moment. It seemed as though neither of them took a breath the entire time as she thought over his helpful suggestion and what could come of it. “Okay,” she said at last.
Kat swooped her long red hair up off her neck to expose the zipper, and turned her back to him.
Sawyer’s hands were almost trembling as he reached out to grasp the tab and hold the fabric taut. He tugged down, separating the teeth and exposing more and more of Kat’s bare skin as he went. His fingertips brushed over the clasp of her pale pink bra before they continued down to the curve of her back. The zipper stopped there, just where the top of her panties would be visible. But they weren’t.
“Did you go commando to my grandmother’s garden party?” Sawyer managed to ask, his mouth suddenly as dry as sand.
Kat chuckled and swept her hair over her shoulder as she turned to him. “I had to. This dress showed panty lines pretty badly and I’ve never really been a fan of thongs.”
The smile faded slowly from her face when she looked him in the eye. He wasn’t sure what she saw there, but he was certain every feeling he was trying to hide was visible if she peered hard enough. He was usually good at disguising his feelings, but that was because he rarely had any. Now, standing here with her dress about to slip from her shoulders, he was overwhelmed with feelings like never before.
Without saying a word, Sawyer reached out and caught the neckline of her dress where it rested across her skin. He heard Kat’s breath catch in her throat as he pulled at the coral fabric. It slipped off her shoulder, the weight of the dress pulling it from her other shoulder, as well. Kat didn’t try to stop it as it slid down her body and pooled at her bare feet.
Sawyer swallowed hard as his gaze raked across Kat’s virtually naked body. When she finally did move, it wasn’t to grab her dress or cover herself. She reached behind her back and unfastened her bra. In a moment, it fell to the floor with her dress, leaving nothing but the red waves of her hair to cover any of her body from him.
He let out a ragged breath as he studied her pale, creamy skin. He was drawn to her full breasts and the hardened peach nipples that seemed to reach out to him, begging him to touch them. He wanted to. It was wrong, but he wanted to. He was conflicted enough that he was frozen on the spot, unable to leave and unable to pursue her.
Instead, Kat closed the gap between them. She stepped gingerly out of her dress and stopped just short of having her nipples graze the cotton of his dress shirt. “Don’t you want to touch me, Sawyer?” she asked.
Hearing her specifically say his name, not his brother’s, lit a fire deep inside his belly. This wasn’t just a case of mistaken identity. She wanted him. In this moment, naked and vulnerable in front of him, she wanted Sawyer to touch her, and he was desperate to give her what she needed.
“More than anything,” he admitted, and he meant it. He couldn’t remember another woman in his life who had gotten
under his skin, or taken over his thoughts, the way Kat had.
“Then touch me. Please. I want you to.”
She wanted this. He wanted this. In that moment, Sawyer decided that nothing else mattered. He had to have Kat or he was going to make himself crazy with unfulfilled desire. He would regret not taking the chance, just as he would probably regret sleeping with her, so he might as well do what he wanted to in the heat of the moment.
Reaching out, he cupped one breast in his hand. Kat’s head tipped back and her eyes closed as she savored the sensation. Her skin was soft as silk as his thumb traced over it and then teased the taut peak that pressed insistently into his palm.
With his other hand, Sawyer reached around the back of her neck, weaving his fingers through her hair and pulling her mouth up to meet his. She opened herself to him, moaning softly with pleasure as his tongue grazed hers. He drank her in, enjoying the lingering taste of strawberries on her lips from the flavored seltzers she’d sipped all afternoon.
He felt her fingers at his throat and pulled away from her mouth long enough for Kat to tug his tie loose and throw it onto the floor. She unfastened the top button of his shirt, which was always his favorite moment of the day. He supposed it was like Kat kicking off her uncomfortable shoes. He sighed in relief, and was about to dip his head down to taste her breasts when Kat pressed insistently on his chest, forcing him backward until his calves met with the couch behind him.
She pushed him back onto the sofa and crawled onto his lap to sit astride him. Her fingers worked feverishly to unbutton his dress shirt and push the fabric out of her way. Sawyer’s hands gripped the flesh of her hips as she dragged her nails through his chest hair to his belly, then unfastened his belt.
Kat rose up on her knees long enough to let him slide his pants down his thighs, then she slowly, deliberately, lowered herself onto him.
Sawyer groaned against her breasts as he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close to him. He held her still for a moment once she was fully seated, and squeezed his eyes tightly shut. He wanted to savor every moment, every feeling, because this probably wouldn’t ever happen again. Soon they would come to their senses and realize how stupid they were, but right now, right this very second, he was going to enjoy every delicious sensation.
After a moment of stillness, Kat ran her fingers through the curls on the top of his head and gripped a fistful. Gently, she pulled back, until Sawyer had no choice but to look into her bewitching green eyes. Then she eased up and sank down on him a second time. Moving slowly at first, Sawyer leaned back and enjoyed the view of his redheaded hellcat taking control. This was the woman who’d slapped him hard across the face at his sister’s wedding. The one who had called him daily and tried to track him down to get her way over the artist community. She was feisty. Sexy as hell. Kat was unlike any woman he’d ever been with before.
