Page 7

seven

Sawyer

Break down the moon, drain the oceans, extinguish the sun.

There’s no way he really meant that, right? We barely knew each other, and yet Byron was promising me the world.

I let the warm water wash over me. I'd been standing in the shower for far too long. Soon the hot water was going to run out and there'd be none left for the mountain man. Then he'd retract his statement about promising me the world.

I chuckle to myself, scrubbing myself down with soap. It was minty, a man's scent. I breathed it in deep, letting the soothing smells wash away the tension of the past few days.

I hadn't realized how much I needed Byron's presence until this moment. His scent, his strength, his rough hands that were so gentle with me when he touched me.

I step out of the shower, wrapping a towel around myself. My hair was still a bit tangled, but the heat from the shower had done wonders to relax my muscles. I feel rejuvenated, ready to take on the world. Or at least the loggers.

I throw on the blue plaid shirt that Byron gave me. It was huge, looking more like a dress on me. My dirty clothes were already being washed.

I pad out into the main area of the cabin.

A fire crackles in the wood stove, casting a warm glow over the cozy space. Byron sits at the kitchen table, a steaming mug of coffee in front of him, his head bent over a well-worn map.

He looks up, his eyes softening as he takes me in. "There you go, looking like a lumberjack," he says with a smile.

I shrug, self-consciously smoothing down the fabric of the shirt. "Thank you. It's comfortable."

Byron stands up, stretching his arms above his head. "Help yourself to some coffee. I made a fresh pot." He points to the percolator on the stove.

I pour myself a cup, inhaling the rich aroma. I add a spoonful of sugar and a splash of milk, then take a sip. "Mmm, this is delicious," I murmur, looking at him over the rim of my mug. "You make great coffee."

Byron smirks. "It's about the only thing I make well."

I raise an eyebrow. "I wouldn't say that."

He blushes faintly, looking down at the map once more. "Well, anything would taste good after two nights in the forest." He brushes off my compliment with a cough and looks back down at the map.

I wander over to his side, using every ounce of strength in me not to hurl myself at him and beg him to fuck me. I lean against the table, letting the shirt ride up to show my thighs.

Byron looks down, swallowing hard. "Sawyer," he says, his voice a warning.

"Yes?" I smile sweetly.

"You're tempting me on purpose, aren't you?"

"Maybe," I breathe, setting the coffee down.

Byron takes the bait. He moves forward and kisses me. He devours me, biting on my bottom lip and scratching my face with his beard. I surrender to the kiss, only breaking away when I run out of air.

"Sawyer," he says, panting. "I don't know what you've done to me, but I need you."

"So what you said in the forest..."

"I meant every word," He vows, holding my hands tightly. His thumb caresses the back of mine, sending shivers down my spine.

"You can't mean that," I whisper, my heart hammering in my chest. "You barely know me."

Byron's expression turns serious. "But I know enough," he says, his voice low and intense. "I know you're passionate, determined, and brave. I've seen you stand with the fire of a thousand suns burning inside you. You're not afraid to fight for your beliefs, even if it means chaining yourself to a tree."

I open my mouth to speak, but he cuts me off.

"I know you're kind, Sawyer. You care about others, the environment, and the people who live and work here in Darkmore. You may not know it, but you're not just fighting for a tree. You're fighting for a community."

I can feel tears stinging my eyes as he speaks. No one has ever seen me like this before. No one has ever understood me like Byron does.

"And I know I want to be a part of your life, Sawyer. I want to be by your side as you fight for what you believe in."

Tears spill over, rolling down my cheeks in hot streams. I nestle into his chest. "Thank you for seeing me," I whimper. "Everyone always writes me off as a dumb girl doing it for the views. Thank you for seeing me for who I am."

"No one would chain themselves to a tree with a wild mountain man for the views," he chuckles. He tips my chin up, his eyes locking onto mine. " I love you, Sawyer . I know it's crazy, but I love you."

I surrender to his kiss again. "I love you, too."

Byron's rough hands press against my thighs. He moves upward, stiffening when he realizes I don't have panties on. I'm commando under the shirt.

He groans, "Fuck, Sawyer. You're playing dirty."

"Your fault for making me wait for laundry," I tease.

Byron captures my mouth in a kiss, using his fingers to tease my clit. I gasp into his mouth, my hips bucking against his hand as I ride the waves of pleasure. He pumps his fingers into me, finding that spot that makes me see stars.

"Fuck, Sawyer," he groans, his voice thick with desire. "You're so goddamn tight. I can feel you squeezing my fingers. I'm going to make you come right here on my hand."

I whimper, my body already convulsing.

Byron slips a third finger into me, stretching me further. He hammers away, finger fucking me into oblivion.

My eyes roll back. "Fuck, fuck!" I grind against his hand, rubbing my clit against his rough palm.

"That's it, come for me," he hisses.

With one last shaking cry, I let go.

My body convulses as waves of pleasure crash over me, leaving me limp and gasping. Byron's fingers are coated in my release, and he pulls them out slowly, brushing his thumb over my clit one last time before letting go.

I collapse against him, my breath coming in ragged gasps. He wraps an arm around me, holding me close as I come down from my high.

"That was..." I pause, trying to find the words. "That was amazing."

Byron chuckles.

Just as he's about to speak, there's a loud banging on the front door. The force just about rips the door off the hinges.

"What the hell?" Byron's eyes narrow. He leaves me at the table, grabbing the small fire axe he keeps by the door.

I pull down the shirt and try, in vain, to fix my sex hair.

The door swings open to reveal two forest rangers. They wear green uniforms and stern looks on their faces.

"Can I help you, gentlemen?" Byron asks. His stance is protective, the axe casually resting against his shoulder.

The rangers exchange a glance before one of them steps forward. "Byron McKinney?" he asks, his voice stern and official.

Byron nods with a hint of wariness in his eyes. "That's me. What can I do for you?"

The ranger holds up a folded piece of paper. "We have a warrant for your arrest, sir. For trespassing and obstruction of justice."

Byron's grip tightens on the axe handle, his knuckles turning white. "What the hell are you talking about?"

A third ranger pushes between them. He's a big guy, almost as tall as Byron, with dark blond hair. "Byron," he says and then mutters something to the other two. They retreat to a black SUV with the words Darkmore Forest Protection shining on the hood.

"Byron," the third Ranger says. His tone is familiar and almost apologetic. "I got a call from that logging company. They said you were trespassing. Please don't make me arrest you, man."

Byron's expression hardens. "You working for them now?"

"No. Never," he says with a shake of his head. "But, they have the right to their land. Even if there's ancient trees on it. I never thought I'd see you teaming up with hippies."

Byron growls, taking a threating step forward. "They're not hippies. They're people who actually give a shit about this forest." He lunges towards the Ranger.