28. Sawyer

CHAPTER 28

SAWYER

I wake up to the incessant sound of texts woop-ing on Leah's phone and I'm immediately annoyed that she's rolled out of my arms.

"Good morning to you."

"Tell my sister and the rest of the spice girls to leave you alone so you can get your ass back where it belongs," I groan, resting my chin on her shoulder as she locks her phone.

"And where exactly does my ass belong?" She turns her head, causing her nose to brush across mine.

"With me, of course." I give her a quick kiss before pulling her back flush to my front, burying my face in the crook of her neck. I was worried she may have an issue with me sleeping in my boxers—seeing as how we came straight here after the NYE party I was required to be at and I had no other clothes—but from the way she's pressing her ass against me and purring like a content kitten, I'd say she's fine with it. She smells like vanilla, just like she always has, and it makes me want to taste every delicious inch of her.

You're taking it SLOW, asshole. Pull back.

"You stayed," she whispers, turning to face me. The still sleepy yet soothing tone of her voice sends a rush of excitement down my spine.

"Of course I stayed, wherever you are is where I want to be too, Dove." When she drags her bottom lip through her teeth, I can't help but pull it out with my thumb before leaning in to bite it myself. "What are you doing today?" I force myself to change the course of conversation before I end up doing something stupid.

"Before I answer, can I show you something?"

"Of course." She grabs her phone from the nightstand and taps on the screen a few times before turning it towards me.

"What are we going to do about this?" she asks, a look of worry on her face that I don't quite understand.

"What do you mean? Do you not like the photo?" I take the phone from her hands and examine it closer. It's probably my new favorite picture because damn it looks like she's mine.

"No, I mean, it's magazine worthy, but I just wasn't sure you'd be okay with it." She shrugs, chewing on the sleeve of her sweatshirt. I lock her phone and toss it to the other end of the bed.

"I told you last night that I wanted everyone to know you were mine. I wasn't just saying that to hear myself talk, Dove. I meant it. You're mine now, and I want every damn one to know it." Her cheeks turn rosy, and she smiles at me. "Okay." I lean down and kiss her the way you should kiss your girl on a Sunday morning—sweet and lazy—like you have nowhere else in the world to be. However, when my dick thinks it's his turn for some attention, I pull back to keep myself from even thinking about going for more.

"So…you were going to tell me what we're doing today." I clear my throat and wrap my arms around her, settling into the pillows behind us.

" I usually just do boring stuff until I go to dinner with my parents. Then apparently we're having girls night at Ruby's after that. Which should be illegal on a work night." Even listening to her talk about her daily plans is fulfilling to me. I truly can't wait to see how she spends all of her time.

"What's the boring stuff?" I run my fingers carefully through a few strands of her hair.

"Laundry. Grocery shopping. Cleaning my house." She looks up at me and rolls her eyes. "I told you—boring stuff."

"Can I do them with you?" She rears back with the cutest frown on her face.

"You want to do my errands with me?"

"I told you; I want to be where you are. If doing the boring things means I get to spend today with you, then hell yeah, I want to run errands with you." Her cheeks turn pink, and she smiles so brightly I wish I could freeze this moment and capture it to hold onto forever.

"Take a picture, it'll last longer." She sticks her tongue out at me, giving me the inclination to do just that.

"You know what, that's a great idea." I grab my phone off the nightstand next to me as she begins trying to wiggle out of my arms.

"Sawyer, no! I was kidding. Don't take a photo of me right now I look?—"

"Perfect. You always look perfect to me, Dove." She pretends to fight me for the next few minutes while I snap god only knows how many photos, hoping I have at least one that won't be too blurry to stare at when I miss her.

"Are you letting me spend the day with you or what?" She bites down on her bottom lip and smiles.

"Fine." She rolls her eyes, swinging one of her legs over my waist to straddle me. "But if you die of boredom, I am not to be held accountable. You've been warned." I push her sweatshirt up, allowing my hands to rest on the bare skin of her hips.

"How could I ever be bored with you?"

I pull back up to Leah's house after going home to shower—and put on something a little more comfortable than the three-piece suit I wore over here last night—feeling more excitement than one man should over spending a simple Sunday with a simple girl.

Simple, but extraordinary.

Extraordinary because she is the only person in the world that has ever given me butterflies, the only person who set up camp in the forefront of my heart and mind and refused to leave—even when all hope felt lost of having her in my life somewhere other than just my imagination. She grabs my attention the moment she enters a room and captivates me in a way that makes me want to get completely lost in her.

Simple because those are the things she enjoys most in life. A beautiful sunset, the way water crashes against a riverbed, or a well written plot twist—simple. It never has taken much to make Leah happy, but that's not going to stop me from trying to give her the whole damn world.

I hop out of my truck, slamming the door shut with my elbow—careful not to spill any coffee—and before I'm even halfway up the driveway I can hear music blasting from inside.

I manage to knock on the door with my foot and hear her yell "Come in!" The music only grows louder once the door is open and I can hear the unmistakable voice of Lana Del Ray.

I make my way through the house, setting our coffee down on the kitchen island before Leah reappears in the living room with a laundry basket in tow. She has on a pair of light gray sleep shorts and a lavender sweatshirt, with her hair still damp from her shower and her glasses perched on her perfect nose.

She smiles at me as she continues to sing along to the song pouring out of the Bluetooth speakers mounted in the corners of her living room. I take a seat on the barstool, crossing my arms over my chest watching as she sways her hips and folds some of her T-shirts. She doesn't let me stay there long before she walks over and pulls one of my hands free, spinning herself beneath my arm. I quickly fall in line, pulling her closer to me, taking her other hand in mine as I spin her around the living room.

Her laugh is so carefree and her smile so content but they both shift into a look of shock when I start to sing one of the verses with her.

I never made it a habit to sing in front of other people, but when I see the way Leah's eyes widen and her mouth pops open, I assume those who have told me that I can were right. I bend down to kiss her, loving the way she stands on her toes to reach me better. I pull her legs around my waist and when her tongue hits my lips, I wrap one hand behind her neck and eagerly let her in.

We stay like this until the song changes and when she goes to pull away it takes everything in me to let her. I swear I could kiss this girl forever and never grow tired of the feeling of her lips on mine.

"You can freaking sing?!" She clears her throat and slaps my chest, clearly amused by this new revelation. She slides down my body until her feet hit the ground again and when she steps away, I turn to grab our coffees off the island with a shrug.

"Eh, can't everyone?"

"Not like that, no. You should hear Max on karaoke night," she snickers, taking a sip of her coffee before setting it down on her coffee table.

"Okay, what can I do?" I clap my hands together, raising my brows eagerly.

"Sawyer, you really don't have to do anything."

"Pfft. Are you kidding me? The faster we get all this shit done, the sooner we can snuggle up on this couch and you can read this amazing book to me." She rolls her eyes playfully when I pick up the book I got her for Christmas that's sitting on the coffee table. "Someone really great must have gotten this for you." I plop down on the couch and grin. She begins pulling more laundry from the basket and folding it as I flip through the book, careful not to let her bookmark fall out.

"You really like it though?" She side-eyes me as she shakes out a pair of blue jeans.

"Are you serious? That book is kind of the whole reason we're together," she giggles.

"And here I thought it was my charming, good looks and persistence in breaking you and the ferret up."

She frowns. "The what?"

"Never mind." I slam the book shut and turn it around, looking at the blurb on the back.

"To answer your ridiculous question, yes. I love it. Laura Pavlov has been one of my favorite authors for forever." I catch the playful smile on her lips when she answers.

"What's your favorite book by her?" Roll my head on the back cushion of the couch and notice the distant look on her face. Like she's thinking really really hard about her answer.

"Too hard to pick a favorite or?"

"Always Mine. It's the first book in one of my favorite series." Her answer is clipped as she shakes her head and goes back to folding her laundry.

"Cool. I'll have to read it sometime." I toss the book back on the coffee table and she glares at me. "What's next on the agenda?" I reach into her laundry basket and pull out the first thing I touch, which is—much to my delight—a pair of her underwear.

Not just any underwear though, a pair of black, silk underwear that I now can't stop picturing her in. I clear my throat and see the moment her face goes from focused to panicked. She tries to snatch them from me, but I pull them back where she can't reach them.

"Sawyer, give me my underwear!" She continues reaching for them until she's standing between my legs, and I take the opportunity to pull her into my lap. She squeals as I adjust her legs to straddle me comfortably.

"No chance. Because these ," I hold them out to the side, still too far out of her reach, "have my imagination running wild wondering what you have on under those little gray shorts." Finally letting her grab them from my grip, she fists the black fabric in her hand and levels me with a stare.

"I'm not wearing anything under them right now." Her brow lifts and her eyes fall to my mouth as her tongue peeks out to wet her lips. When she pushes off my shoulders to stand, my hands grip her waist before she can get her feet back on the ground and her eyes snap back to mine.

"I don't believe you." I watch her carefully, waiting for nerves or timidness to make themselves apparent.

Neither do.

Instead, she settles herself back down in my lap. "I guess you'll just have to find out for yourself."

Fuck me.

"Don't tease me, Dove," I warn. Just last night she told me she wanted to go slow, and I have every intention of respecting her wishes. But I'm not the type that has to be told twice.

"What? You're just checking to see if I'm lying or not." The innocent way she shrugs, with the most seductive look on her face, has me hard as iron—which I'm sure she can feel through both of our sweats.

"And if I slide my hands into these tiny little shorts and find that you're not . Then what?" Her cheeks flame as her teeth bare down on her bottom lip. "Do you want me to get up and walk away, Dove? Or do you want me to play with that pretty little pussy?" Her lips separate the slightest bit, and I can't stop myself from reaching up to bite on her delicious bottom lip.

"I'm gonna need you to tell me exactly what you want from me." My hands slide painstakingly slowly up her thighs until my fingertips are teasing the hem of her shorts. Her chest rises and falls more quickly now and she visibly swallows.

"I want you to touch me, Sawyer," she whispers, her dark green eyes that have a way of calming my soul locking with mine.

God she's so beautiful.

"Atta girl." I reach beneath the loose-fitting shorts and when my fingertips make it to her hips—without a trace of underwear to be found—I have to catch my breath with the realization that she really wants this.

Wants me .

What really floors me is the way she holds my gaze. While my fingers trail down to her swollen clit, and as they swipe through her wetness her eyes never leave mine. Something primal awakens in my chest that I've never felt before. The absolute need to make this woman mine and ensure no one else ever touches her again roars to life. My fingertips tease her entrance and her eyes flutter shut.

"Don't stop," she whispers.

Dammit, she's gonna ruin me.

I push one digit inside her and feel her walls squeeze around me. If she's this tight around my finger, I'm going to have to make sure I take my time with her before I fuck her. Which is all I've ever wanted with her—time. She's biting her lip so hard it looks as though it might start bleeding soon if she doesn't release it.

Reaching up I wrap my free hand around the back of her neck to pull her lips down to mine. She kisses me with fervor as her hips rock against my hand, sending all the blood in my body straight to my cock. God I can't wait to know how she feels wrapped around me. I slide a second finger into her, and she lets out a moan, breaking our kiss.

"You can do it, baby. Just relax. It's just me and you." I can feel the moment she lets me in, and her lips meet mine again. Her walls begin to tighten around me, and her lips slow their movement against mine.

"Sawyer," she pants. When her eyes lock with mine again the look on her face fucking kills me. There's a mix of worry and satisfaction and I don't quite know what to make of it.

"Let go baby. Come for me." She grinds her hips, rubbing her clit against my palm with every movement while chasing that high. When she digs her nails into my shoulders and cries out in satisfaction, it's the most beautiful thing I've ever heard.