Page 99 of Almost Ravaged

It’s the sweetest sound, but one I might not survive again.

“Sawyer.” Her name leaves me unbidden, half plea, half curse.

She looks up, her lids still heavy and a sly smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

Oh, fuck. This woman knows exactly what she’s doing.

“You make another noise like that and I—”

“You’ll what, Bee Daddy?” She lifts her head in challenge, exposing her neck in the process.

Breathing ragged, I home in on a smudge of honey at the corner of her mouth, silently hoping she notices it. That her tongue will dart out and take care of it. That’s she’ll put me out of my misery.

But she makes no move to do that, and I’m too drawn in to let it linger.

“You’ve got a little bit of honey… right there.” I grip her jaw and swipe at the liquid gold, collecting it on the tip of my thumb.

Before I can pull back, she lunges forward and captures the digit between her lips.

Excitement surges through me, my dick hardening almost instantly.

The warmth and wetness of her mouth consume me as she sucks again. She closes her eyes, her thick lashes fluttering, and her lips tip up a fraction. Just as my brain processes the expression, she sucks again, this time harder. When she swirls the tip of her tongue, a low moan works its way out of me.

“Fuck it.” I pull back, the suction of her lips causing a popping sound, and dip low, desperate to capture her mouth with my own.

The second our lips touch, the tiniest of brushes, the alarm on her phone rings out, startling us both so badly we jump apart.

We stare at each other wordlessly, chests heaving and eyes wide. She fumbles to silence the alarm, then only the sounds of our ragged breaths and the buzz of the bees fill the void. A whole range of emotions rages inside me as I come to terms with the reality of the moment.

“I—I have to go.” She clambers to her feet and brushes the dirt from her pants. “I’m so—”

“Don’t.” I throw both hands up, shielding myself from what she was about to say.

I can’t stand to hear her apologize, because despite my confusion, I know one thing for sure: I regret nothing.

I was going to kiss her.

I wanted to. I still want to kiss her now.

A glint of understanding shines in her eyes.

I search her face, desperate to find any hint of regret. When nothing registers, I let myself hope she still wants to kiss me, too.

With a tentative smile and a wave, she says, “I’ll see you soon?”

“Yeah, Sawyer.” A long, frustrated sigh escapes me. “I’ll see you soon.”

Chapter thirty-five

Sawyer

Leaves crunch beneath my trainers as I trek toward the ice arena for my afternoon shift. It’s an idyllic autumn afternoon, with a constant breeze and the kind of chill in the air that elicits the best kind of shivers.

The whole way there, I keep my face tilted up, relishing the warmth of the sun on my skin. It’s that time of year when layers are a must, which means I’m once again shamelessly wearing Noah’s flannel over my requisite uniform.

As I tug on the cuffs and fold my fingers over to hold them in place, I admit to myself that before long, I’ll need gloves, a scarf, and a real coat for treks across campus.

A bit of tenderness tugs at my heart as I sidestep a group of students with their noses buried in their phones. It’s a perfect, quintessential fall day, and they’re missing it.