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CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

SAWYER

W hich is sexier—Collins in leathers, straddling a Harley while we head toward Brighton Beach, or Collins in a faux leather body suit while she straddles me? It’s difficult to say, though both have me hard as fuck.

This woman isn’t just the hottest woman I’ve ever met; she’s got a heart of gold to match.

She rides the road like she owns it, just like she does me.

I tighten my grip on her waist as she moves into the next lane and kicks the speed up. She’s incredible, her hair blowing over her shoulders, amber scent somehow finding its way to me despite the helmet I’m wearing.

“How are you doing back there, old man?” She chuckles through the headset I had fitted into every helmet I bought for her garage.

When she quit Smooth Running, I was initially pissed on her behalf—she had put so much work into that place and didn’t deserve to be treated like she was. Then, after a few hours of digesting the news, I got to thinking the situation wasn’t so bad after all. I could help her for as long as required, and maybe the final straw with Cameron turned out to be the break she needed to go it alone. She has the potential client base, thanks to her growing social media presence.

Trouble is, establishing a business for fixing up and servicing Harleys isn’t cheap, and I knew even if she’d previously considered opening her own garage, it would be a long-ass time before she could make that happen.

All it took was a phone call to get the ball rolling on securing the place that was half finished. A previous sale had gone south at the final second, and the owner was willing to sell fast for someone who could pay the full asking price up front.

Making my girl’s dreams a reality is a no-brainer. And buying the Harley she’d always wanted made me so fucking happy, especially knowing she’d get to see both on her birthday.

“What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue?”

“Just taking it all in, Baby Girl.”

When we reach the entrance to the boardwalk, she pulls along the sidewalk and sets down the kickstand, swiveling around to look at me. Her cheeks are rosy, face illuminated with happiness as she pulls off her helmet.

“I think this place might be my favorite part of Brooklyn.”

“You like the ocean?” I ask, pulling my helmet off too.

The breeze rolling off the waves spins hair around her face, pink strands catching on her full lips, and I reach up and pull them away.

Collins edges closer, turning her body one-eighty degrees so she’s straddling the bike while facing me. The traffic is reasonably light for a weekday—not that I’d notice anyone but the girl sitting in front of me.

“I love the water. I’ve always been a sensory girl, and there’s something so soothing about the lap of the waves. I think, one day, I’d like to live by the beach.”

I slip down the seat and lift her knees so her legs wrap over mine. “Tell me something, Collins.”

“Anything.”

My gloved hand palms the back of her head, pulling her heart-shaped face closer to mine. “Do you think there will ever be a day when you don’t surprise me or I don’t learn something new about you?”

She twists her lips to the side, considering her response. “I think there’s a fair chance I’ll keep you on your toes.”

Taking her helmet, I set both down on the ground beside us. “Come here, Baby Girl.” The first kiss I give her is soft and longing—a promise of forever. “You always keep me guessing, and that’s one of the main things I love about you.”

When I break from her lips, she rolls them together, loving the taste of us both. “What else do you love about me, Sawyer?” She asks a question I could never have imagined hearing from the Collins I first met at Lloyd’s.

“Hmm, let’s see.” I set a third kiss across her mouth, this time sweeping my tongue against hers.

She whimpers, the sound barely audible above the ocean and traffic noise, but it’s there, and I hang on to its beauty. I drew that from her. Me.

“I love the way you made me work for you. You didn’t care that I was a rich and famous hockey player. Hell,”—I laugh—“you practically told me as much when you threw that ride home back in my face.”

She scuffs the ground lightly with her boot. “I was really gutted when you denied knowing me to the media. I think, honestly, that was the first moment I realized that you’d really gotten under my skin. That my attraction to you was more than superficial.”

I bring her back in for a fourth kiss. She teases me, running her tongue across my bottom lip until I’m the one whimpering, trying desperately to suppress the hard-on as it fights against my leathers.

“Thank you for making today so perfect. I still can’t believe you essentially bought me a business.” There’s a flash of uncertainty in her eyes. “I hope I can make a good go of it.”

I scoff. “Are you kidding me? You had new customers coming out of your ears at Smooth Running. There’s no way they won’t follow you wherever you go.” I twist a lock of pink hair around my finger, unable to keep my hands off her. “You’ve earned this, Collins. You know everything there is to know about Harleys and have an online following who hang on your every word. This is your time to take a front seat and shine, and I’m all the way here for it.”

I go in for a fifth kiss. “Soon, I’ll be the retired hockey player with a famous influencer girlfriend heading up her own Harley empire.”

“You really think so?” She cocks her head to the side, studying me.

“I do. Because good things happen to amazing people. You only have to look around yourself to see how loved you are.” I run my nose against hers, smiling like an idiot. “Although don’t look too far. I’m not the best at sharing, especially when it comes to my favorite things.”

Silence falls between us as we sit comfortably in each other’s presence, foreheads resting together. I’m aware we only have a couple more hours before Ezra gets home from school, and I’m determined to make the most of them.

“Collins,” I say, picking my head up to look at her.

“Yeah?”

“I want you so bad; it’s killing me.”

Her breathing picks up, chest rising and falling quicker than before. “But we’re out in the open, and you know how I feel about public sex. The deserted parking lot was the exception.”

Tucking a lock of hair behind her ear, I lean toward the shell, my lips barely touching her skin. “That’s cool, Baby Girl. Like I said, I’m not a fan of sharing, and that includes anyone’s eyes on what’s only meant for mine.”

“So, what do you have in mind?” she asks, her voice still breathy.

Since I had them installed, it’s all I’ve been able to think of.

I lean closer to her ear, a wry smile pulling at my lips. “How about we christen one of your new scissor lifts?”

* * *

COLLINS

On his knees for me—that’s how I like Sawyer Bryce.

I’m sprawled out across the scissor lift, my entire lower half exposed as I wrap my toes around the edge, so turned on.

Sawyer plunges his fingers inside me, curling them toward my front wall, while his other hand fists my gray Metallica T-shirt—something he insisted I leave on when we pulled back into my new garage and he stripped every other item of my clothing away.

My boyfriend’s sex drive is off the charts, and to think, my first impression of him was vanilla.

He sucks my clit into his mouth, teasing the growing bud between his teeth, and I moan, long and loud, not caring if anyone can hear us.

“Give me your cock,” I implore. “I need it inside me right now.”

Sawyer rises to his feet, hovering over me with delight while he sucks on his dripping fingers. “Is my bratty, back-talking girl finally breaking?”

My toes curl again. He isn’t touching me, but my pussy pulsates from the desperation for him to do exactly that.

“I just want to be fucked. Hard.”

Dressed in a fitted white shirt, he’s still wearing his leather pants from the ride. That, combined with the tattoos that paint his thick forearms, easily makes him the hottest man I’ve ever seen. Especially when he wears a sexy kind of confidence that tells me that here, in this moment, he—and he alone—is in charge of my fate and precisely when I get to scream his name.

Popping the top button on his pants, he slowly pulls the zipper down, holding me captive with his dark green eyes and torturing me with the protracted way he’s undressing.

His hand dips into the waistband of his boxers, pushing them down, along with his pants, until they fall just below a hockey butt I want to sink my teeth into.

When he fists his cock, his eyes still locked on me, I expect him to replicate the fast and brutal way he entered me on his hood.

He doesn’t. Instead, he keeps fisting himself, dragging his hand from the base to the tip before smoothing his palm over the head, using his pre-cum to lubricate the next stroke.

Oh, holy hell . He’s masturbating in front of me.

He dips his chin at me, tongue peeking out and swiping across his bottom lip. “You want this cock, Collins? Well, you’ll have to wait. First, I want you to play with that pretty pussy. Show me how you come when I’m not around. I want to know if the way I’ve fantasized about you playing with yourself is true to reality.”

Sawyer tightens his grip around the shaft and groans, throwing his head toward the ceiling. In the vast, open garage, his noises sound more like primal growls that settle right between my thighs, and I grow wetter, compelled and eager to find my high, along with the relief I crave.

He’s been edging me for at least a half hour, and I need this.

“That’s it, Baby Girl,” he praises, his bottom lip pinned between his teeth, watching me push a finger deep inside myself. “Are you picturing that you’re taking my dick?”

“Yes,” I breathe.

Sawyer strokes himself faster, a flush rising up his neck, tousled hair falling over his eyes when his head lops forward.

I can tell he’s close, and I seize my opportunity to be the one to take him all the way. “Look at me, Baby.”

He picks his head up, pupils fully dilated.

“You want to fuck this cunt, don’t you? It’s all you can think about when you pleasure yourself.” I pull out my finger and spread my legs wide, wishing I had the spreader bar to hold them in place. “So, give it to me. Decorate my insides with your cum and show me all the ways you own this pussy.”

“Oh—fuck—YES!” He lurches forward and slams into me, and I cry out, certain the whole of Brooklyn can hear us at this point.

Thrust .

“You like to be owned, don’t you, Collins?”

Thrust.

“You like it when I play rough and pound into you so you can feel it for weeks.” His hand wraps around my throat, and he smirks down at me, licking his lips with feral need. “What about like this? With my hand around your throat? I know you aren’t big on jewelry, but this hand necklace was made for you, wouldn’t you say?”

Thrust.

Somehow, I spread my legs wider, the sound of being fucked echoing around the walls.

I will never forget this. Yes, this is raw, unadulterated fucking, but it’s also so much more than that. This is Sawyer letting go and revealing exactly how much he’s wanted me for months. This is him taking what he can now be sure belongs to him and not holding back.

“Take everything,” I gasp, lying back on the scissor lift. “Do what you want to my body.”

This time, there’s no mistaking the growl as it reverberates off the walls. Wrapping his hands around my calves, he picks my legs up, suspending them in a V shape as he pistons into me, harder than ever before.

The faster he goes, the better his aim becomes, hitting every delicious spot deep inside me, drawing more arousal from my pussy as it coats us both.

“Good boy, Sawyer.” I applaud, admiring the way he fucks me so well. “You’ve wanted to do this for so long, haven’t you?”

His jaw tics, green eyes burning to more of an amber. “I’ve been desperate to show you the man I can be, Collins. All of me,” he grits out, his voice as strained as the muscles in his body.

On the next thrust, I feel the way his dick hardens again. He’s ready to blow.

“Where do you want to come, Baby? Inside me or somewhere else?”

He lets go of my legs, but I keep them in place as he pulls out and quickly climbs onto the lift, resting on his knees between my parted thighs. “Tilt your hips up for me, Collins. I want to see your pussy and ass.”

I do as he asks, and he sucks a finger into his mouth. Covered in his spit, he swipes it through my pussy and then moves further down, pausing when his attention snags on me.

“I want to play with your ass and come so deep in this tight pussy that I won’t need to push any of myself back inside. Take every drop, Baby Girl. Keep it.”

“Do it,” I bite as he pushes back inside my pussy and circles my tight hole with his finger, teasing it carefully.

The pleasure is so intense that I shudder, and he licks his lips, bringing his finger back into his mouth before lowering it to my ass.

He pushes inside a little more, and I groan, “Give me more.”

“Relax, Baby Girl. Let go,” he encourages, working his dick inside me so well.

I drop my shoulders on an exhale, and he pushes his finger halfway in. Fuck , it feels so damn good.

On his next stroke inside my pussy, he moves his finger deeper, and I hold my breath.

“I won’t last another second like this,” I push out.

Still fingering my ass and fucking my pussy, Sawyer leans over my body, finding my lips with his. “Then don’t, Collins. I’m not seeking your pleas this time. I’m chasing your high.”

Impaled in multiple ways, I orgasm harder and louder than ever before.

He roars, and I cry. It’s the best experience of my life. Being with Sawyer Bryce is the single best experience I could have ever hoped for.

Often, the greatest gifts are the ones we were never seeking out. And I was never looking for him or the family I’m now a part of and love with my entire heart.

Nothing has changed about who I am. Only now, I have love—a permanent fixture in my life that brings me the kind of happiness I was sure I already had, but in reality, I could never have imagined how complete it would make me. Make us.

“I love you,” I whisper, the words feeling natural as they fall from my lips.

Sawyer empties everything he has inside me, collapsing onto his elbows and covering my mouth with his.

He pushes a few strands of hair from my face, kissing me with earnestness. “Say you’ll come home with me to live, Collins. Forever.”

It’s the easiest answer I’ll ever give, not even a little hint of conflict within me.

“Yes.”