Page 11

11

SAWYER

M y body continues to tingle as I climb from Jamie’s bed.

While I’ve always liked the anticipation that comes with starting to have sex with someone, I never actually had an orgasm during sex before. In the past, I treated sex as foreplay.

Being stroked and choked by Jamie was a whole other level. One that worked for me.

Is this what I like? When he first put his fingers over my neck, I was scared. I can’t understand how that turned into my coming.

I collect my clothes from the floor.

“What’s your mobile number, Sauce?”

As I hook my bra, I rattle off the digits. Jamie programs my number into his phone, then drops it on the bed so he can pull on his pants.

When I finish dressing, I check my phone. No messages. Not even one from him so I’ll have his number. I want to ask him about it, but hesitate. There’s something deeper at play that I want to talk about first. Things like… what’s in store for me when we have sex again. And can that happen soon because the anticipation and suspense might kill me.

I stare at his bare chest. He’s like a piece of art.

What in the AF do I say to him? I had a really good time as your sex slave. Can’t wait to do it again . For fuck’s sake.

Be casual. Like him. As I stroll to the door, I don’t make eye contact. “Okay, see you later.”

“Hold on.” He moves in my way, putting an end to my awkward escape.

My eyes lock on his throat, causing heat to rush to my face. He choked me, and I liked it, and he knows. It’s a lot for a first hookup .

“Look at me, Sauce.”

I raise my gaze, so my browns are staring into his blues. “Yes?”

His hands slide down my arms to encircle my wrists and then move to trap my hands behind me. “How are you?”

“I’m fine.” I try to infuse my tone with cool and casual, but I’m not sure I nail it.

“Are you, then?” That accent… delicious. He lowers his head and kisses my lips. No tongue. No pressure. It’s more like a caress.

Which is unsettling.

There was nothing sweet about the sex, so I’m unprepared for this.

His thumb strokes my skin. “I don’t like you leaving when I could’ve made good use of the night. Next time, you’ll stay over.”

I lean closer, enjoying the thought of sleeping with him. Though… I need to be careful. I don’t want to read more into his words than he intends. “I thought—are we doing that?”

He nods. “The kind of sex we’re having requires us to forge a special connection. It’s not a romance, but it’s intimate. I’ll use your body, but I’ll also make sure you’re all right after we try new things.” His hand rises and touches my throat. “You trusted me with breath play. I don’t take that lightly. Unfortunately, Ash is waiting for you to return her car, so this time, I’ve gotta send you back.”

Licking my lips, I nod. I wish I had my own car.

“There will be rules when you stay the night in this house. And you will not break them.”

That causes me to shudder. There’s an ominous sensuality to his voice when he’s giving orders… as though my spine is a bowstring he’s plucking.

Jamie steps back, which I’m sorry about. What I really want is for him to push me back onto the bed and pin me down. While we have sex again. Being bound… somehow I know that will be the hottest thing ever. I know it.

“Wait a moment,” he says. “I’ll walk you to the car.”

As he dresses, I glance around, taking in details I missed earlier. His bedroom is a gorgeous mix of light gray, beige, and various shades of blue. And while there’s nothing specifically nautical about it, it’s all about the sea somehow.

Jamie puts a thick scarf around his neck. It hangs over his chest, not completely matching his sweatshirt. “Right, we’re ready.” He leads me out of the room, outside, and down the metal stairs.

His wearing a scarf but no coat makes him look very European. Again, the novelty is attractive.

After I unlock the car door, he opens it for me. If this is part of the sex slave treatment, I’m down for it.

“Listen,” he says as I lower myself into the driver’s seat. “The car’s a hot rod, but you don’t need to drive it that way.”

I smile. “Noted.”

Jamie’s expression sobers. “That’s not me going soft and sentimental over you. I just don’t want you damaging my property.” He inclines his head at my body.

Cocking an eyebrow, I repeat, “Noted.”

I’m into this insane construct where he both objectifies me and tells me to drive carefully. It’s been a long time since anyone worried about me, and for some reason, it means more coming from Jamie. He claims we’re not going to get attached, but I wonder if it’s possible to remain detached after sex like we just had.

After sliding the key into the ignition, I look over at him. “You took my number but didn’t give me yours. Is that part of the rules?” Trying to keep the challenge out of my tone, I ask, “You’re the only one allowed to initiate contact?”

“With some exceptions. We’ll talk about it.” He reaches out and rubs my lower lip with his thumb. “I’ll text soon so we can get time together on the schedule.” His hand slides up the back of my neck, and his fingers close around a handful of hair. With a tug, he forces my head back, so I’m staring up at him. “Right, okay.” He murmurs the words as if he’s actually addressing himself rather than me.

I think he might kiss me. Instead, he releases my hair and steps back.

“Go on, Cranberry Sauce. Before I drag you back to my bed.” The words cause a surge of satisfaction. I don’t really understand our chemistry, but I love it.

Driving back to school, I can’t stop thinking about Jamie. For the first time since I’ve gotten to Granthorpe, I think college could be more than just a stepping stone in my career.

I pull into the campus lot with the most direct route to our dorm. Once I’m on the path to Central Residence Hall, I realize I need to formulate what I’m going to say to Ash about how I ended up at Jamie’s.

I run out of time when I’m within sight of the dorm, however, because Ash is sitting on top of a picnic table with her phone in hand, eyes fixed on the screen. On the opposite side of the table, there’s a path to the quad and, approaching from that direction, are my horrible adopted brother Brad and his friend, Crosby Bergmann.

A glance at the men reveals their attention is locked on Ash. Uneasiness engulfs me. Quickening my pace, I crunch over leaves until I’m practically jogging.

For some reason, Crosby, the stocky power lifter, always makes the hair on the back of my neck stand on end. But, as far as I know, he’s the lesser of two evils. My brother is the real menace.

I reach the patch of grass in front of Central before the guys do.

Brad spots me and narrows his eyes as I move to the end of the picnic table to block their access to Ash.

“Hey,” I say, more loudly than necessary, letting Brad know I’m prepared to draw attention to us if they cause trouble. Not that I expect them to with CC cameras all over.

They’re more the type of guys I never want my friends to cross paths with after dark. Clean cut and well spoken, they seem trustworthy. But more than once my brother’s high school friends plied some girl with so many drinks she passed out and had little recollection of what she did at a party. After, there would be rumors she’d been screwed by some jerk—or more than one. So sleazy.

Brad was never the one accused, but the company he kept was. And he definitely never criticized what any of his rich, powerful friends did. Bullying people. Using people. Humiliating girls. All fair game.

On top of my general reasons for disliking him, there are more specific ones. He’s always treated me like a charity case who got lucky by landing in his family. While that’s pretty much true, I don’t need to be constantly reminded of it.

As we make eye contact, my stomach lurches with a sick feeling. My pseudo brother’s scowl triggers horrible memories. The way he viciously taunted me over everything… my Southern accent, now gone, the gap between my front teeth, now gone, and my sensitive nature, definitely gone. At times, his anger even turned violent.

It was a relief when Brad went away to college. So much so that knowing he would be here, I almost didn’t apply to Granthorpe. But it was something my mom really wanted. And the GU Briar Club is a way to prove myself to my Allendale grandparents who consider me fruit of a poisonous tree.

The older Allendales forbid Robert—my dad—from adopting me, threatening to cut him off if he did. I didn’t know the truth until Brad told me when I was eleven. Dad was calm when I went to him in tears. I felt betrayed, but he assured me the delay was just part of his plan. We would bide our time. Eventually, he would control the massive family fortune himself, and he’d make the adoption legal and official. Until then, I needed to be patient. Sometimes, I was frustrated he didn’t take a stand, but he always treated me like I was his real daughter, which meant a lot to me.

Dad formally adopted me at seventeen, just before I aged out. In other words, just in time. Maybe I should’ve been annoyed that he didn’t announce it to his family, but I was just happy and grateful he did the right thing in the end. I’d started to think I might turn eighteen and be on my own.

Standing at the end of the picnic table, I study the pair of men when they reach us. Crosby is stocky, with a barrel chest and a surprising layer of fat across his middle, despite broad shoulders and muscular arms that strain against his shirt. His legs are as thick and sturdy as tree trunks, and his cloying aftershave barely covers the musky smell of male sweat as he starts to sidestep me.

We nearly collide, but Brad grabs my arm and jerks me out of his friend’s way, freeing Crosby to move in front of the bench where Ash’s feet are resting.

Trying to pull my arm free, I glare at my brother and notice there’s a raised reddish bruise on Brad’s cheek. My eyebrows rise. What happened? Did he fall down while drunk? That isn’t like him. He always wants to be in control.

“Ashling.” Crosby’s voice is excessively New England blue blood, which is crazy since his physique makes him look like a thug who went shopping at a yacht club.

Ash lowers her phone to her jeans-clad thigh. “Hello.” Her gaze cuts from Crosby to my brother, her blank expression resting where Brad’s hand grips my bicep before lifting to Brad’s face once more.

I aspire to that level of cool.

“You’re not manhandling my friend, are you?” Her head tilts, faux casual, to match her tone. “Hands off, please.”

“Your friend?” Brad scoffs, his incredulity fading when he notes Ash isn’t joking. “Since when?” His hard eyes ping-pong between us.

“Brad,” Crosby says with a side nod that signals Brad to let me go.

My tormenter releases my arm and gives me a small shove away from him.

“So, Ash, how’s your cousin?” Crosby’s tone is surprisingly facilitative, like a cat trying to lure a canary from its cage.

“He’s as pretty as ever. Lucky for you.” Ash’s tone is cool and faintly amused.

My brother’s bruise suddenly makes sense. Are these the guys Jamie got into a fight with? Given that Crosby has bowling balls for shoulders, I’m surprised Jamie doesn’t have more than a swollen lip.

“Glad to hear it.” Crosby steps onto the bench, causing the legs of the picnic table to sink deeper into the grass.

The movement causes Ash’s phone to slide off the edge of her leg. Her hand shoots out and catches it before it drops. Reflexes for days.

Crosby sits next to her. “Hey, listen, I shouldn’t have been so aggressive. Too many drinks. I misunderstood what was going on in the booth. Sorry about that.” His fake friendliness causes my spine to stiffen. “But Ash.” His meaty paw touches his side. “He cracked one of my ribs with that pool cue.”

Ash cocks her head, eyeing him speculatively and seemingly unmoved by his snakelike smile.

“A cracked rib means I can’t lift.” He clucks his tongue in admonishment. “And if I can’t lift for a couple weeks, I have a hole in my schedule.” His index finger points at her. “A hole I want you to help me fill. That’s only fair.” He chuckles, sounding like a rhino with a stuffed nose. “Wouldn’t you agree, Allendale?” He looks to my brother for back-up.

“Allendale?” Ash’s eyes give us a once-over. “Are you related to this guy, Sawyer?”

“She’s not a real Allendale.” Brad crosses his arms, as if to put up yet another barrier against me. “Adopted by my mother, who was only an Allendale by marriage.”

Only by marriage, so less than? I glare at him. This is the way he speaks about his dead mother. Celine was worth twenty of any blood Allendale. She was amazing.

Ignoring our family dysfunction, Crosby turns back toward Ash. “Look, things were going well. I don’t want last night to get in the way. Let me make it up to you. How about dinner in New York?”

Her exhalation of breath is a scoff. “Definitely not.” As she starts to rise, he reaches for her arm but then thinks better of it.

“All right, not New York. Anywhere you want. Name the place.”

Climbing down, she tucks her phone in her pocket. “You were jealous, Cros. That I get. But your friend is an asshole.” She tosses a withering look in Brad’s direction before returning her attention to Bergmann. “For you to have any shot at all, when I see your face next, I shouldn’t see his.”

I tilt my head down to mask my smile. Anyone seeing Brad for who he really is and casually taking him down a peg has my undying admiration.

From his expression, Brad’s apoplectic with rage. “Fucking bitch,” he mutters.

“Got it,” Crosby says to Ash, trying to drown him out.

Ash hooks an arm through mine and tugs me along with her. I allow myself to smile.

When we’re far enough away, I say, “I didn’t realize you knew my brother.”

“I don’t really. But he’s not going to treat you like shit in front of me and get away with it. Fuck him.”

The urge to hug her seizes me, but I resist since we’re walking. “Are you dating Crosby?”

“No, I went on two dates with him after he intervened at a bar when someone was hassling me and a friend. I thought Crosby was a decent guy.”

“And now?”

She smirks darkly. “I think he doesn’t realize how lucky he is that Jamie brought him to his knees with that pool cue.”

I peer over my shoulder at my brother and his friend as they stroll away in the opposite direction. “You don’t scare easily, do you?”

“Not easily, no.” Ash shrugs. “It’s not that I’m never scared. But I don’t let myself show it. What would be the point? And also… Fuck that,” she whispers with a small smile that hints at a multitude of secrets. The girl is an enigma. “Anyway, forget about Crosby and your dickhead brother. Listen, I was getting claustrophobic in the dorm room.” That explains what she was doing sitting outside. “Want to go get a drink somewhere, Seesaw?”

“I don’t have a fake ID.”

“Me neither. Can’t figure out where I lost it.” She licks her lips thoughtfully and looks at her oversized handbag. “It’s fine though. I never get a chance to buy my own drinks anyway.”

I don’t doubt that. The thing is… I can’t afford to get caught drinking while I’m underage. Brad’s nasty reminder that I’m a second-class member of the family is an implied threat. Anything he catches me doing will be reported back.

Also, Ash has shady armed guys after her and her friends. Also, I don’t want to talk about what I was doing at her cousin’s house just now, which is bound to come up.

Extracting my arm from hers, I say, “You know, I think I’m going to stay in.”

She slows, glancing over at me. I expect her to ask how things went with Clare. And what I found out from talking to Jamie. Instead, she shrugs with a friendly smile. “Okay. Glad you feel better.”

“Thanks.” Warmth burns in my cheeks. Has she guessed the reason I’m feeling better is because I got laid? With a jolt, I realize I’ve haven’t obsessed over Clare Duffy’s disapproval once since I fell into bed with Jamie. Logically, I know Briar Club membership is still crucial for me, but that’s not how it feels at the moment.

Ash opens an app that has a map with a twirling red car in the center. Apparently, Ash has a “find my Camaro” app on her phone. Nice. Since it’s vintage and pre-dates smart technology, I guess she installed her own GPS.

“All right, I’m off,” she says.

“Are you sure you want to go out alone? That’s not the safest.”

She smiles and gives me a firm hug. “Night, Sawyer.”

“Be careful,” I call out as she strolls toward the parking lot. She raises a hand in acknowledgement before disappearing into the dark.