Page 25

“This is a switch,” I whisper, helping him over the sill. “What are you doing here?”

His hair is messy over his eyes, and he seems agitated. He’s breathing fast, and I think I smell the faintest hint of whiskey on his breath, hot and syrupy.

“I thought you had to get up early.”

“I do.” He hesitates, sitting back on the edge of the sill. His eyes are down, and he looks at his palm. “Deacon seems like a good guy.”

“He likes helping people with their finances.”

Sawyer’s eyes flash at me. “He seems really familiar with you.”

An edge is in his tone, and my chest tightens. I can’t decide if I’m pissed or I’m happy. “We spent a lot of time together in college.”

“When I was gone.” His voice is low, like rolling thunder. “Is he in your business?”

“Not yet. I haven’t decided what I want to do.” Yes, I’m taunting him.

He stands quickly, angrily. “I don’t know what I’m doing here.”

I race to get between him and the window. “Why did you come here?”

His eyes are lowered, and his jaw tightens. “I don’t know.”

“You do know. Tell me” My breath comes fast, my breasts rising and falling.

His eyes flicker down, hunger in them. They rise to mine, and I won’t let him stop us this time. My arms go around his neck, and I kiss him hard, pushing his lips apart so I can touch his tongue with mine.

It’s like a spark to kindling. Strong hands grip my waist, his fingers cutting into my skin, and I feel him fighting. I feel it when he breaks. His mouth moves, and a low groan rumbles from his chest. It sends heat racing to my core.

Our mouths break apart, and I gasp as his lips move roughly along my jawline to my ear. “I don’t like him touching you.”

His hands slide lower, and I gather his shirt in my hands, pulling it higher, uncovering his luscious, lined stomach, his chest covered in sparse hair.

He only hesitates a moment before letting me lift his shirt over his head. My eyes hold his, and I lift mine over my head, baring my breasts.

“Then you touch me.”

8

Sawyer

Mindy smells like lavender and lilacs and fresh air. I bury my face against her soft neck and inhale deeply.

My hands slide from her shoulders down her smooth skin. With my palm flat against the curve of her back, I hold her flush against my chest, skin against skin. She exhales a sigh as her breasts press against me.

She kisses the side of my neck, full lips touching my skin, white teeth nibbling, pulling…

Every touch, every moan registers straight to my aching cock. I’ve wanted her so long. I wanted her in the pond yesterday. I wanted her in my bed two nights ago…

Sliding my hands under her ass, I lift her off her feet. Her legs wrap around my waist, and she threads her fingers in my hair.

“Kiss me again.” Her voice is thick, and her body moves against mine like a wave.

She doesn’t have to ask twice.

The three fingers of whiskey I drank when I got back to the house pretty much killed my better judgment. It was supposed to make me forget, sleep, but lying in my bed, all I could feel was desire hot in my veins, this yearning in my stomach driving me out of the house, into the night to find her.

Deacon’s hand on her arm infuriated me. The way she looked at him, smiling and teasing… The way he looked down at her, like he could see how special she was, like nothing could stop him if he decided to have her.