“Where do you think you’re going?” Sawyer rushed out of the elevator, following. “I’m not done talking to you.”
“Yeah?” Clover kept walking. “Well, I’m done with you.”
Maybe it was because he couldn’t let her have the last word. Maybe it was because he couldn’t stand to see her go. It didn’t matter because he was striding after her before he even realized he was moving. He reached a hand out but she stopped and whirled around faster than he could touch her. Her cheeks were flush and her breath came in fast inhales through her parted lips, the obvious signs of just how angry she was with him at the moment. But it wasn’t just mad. Her nipples had pebbled against the tight fit of her black dress, and her pupils had dilated with desire.
“I don’t like you very much right now.” She tugged her bottom lip between her teeth, pulling it taut.
His cock thickened against his thigh as his frustration made a hairpin turn into something else. “The feeling’s mutual.”
“So why do I want to fuck you so bad my panties are soaked?” Her words didn’t come with a flirty look or a sexy turn. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that she was as pissed as he was that this thing between them wasn’t so easily shoved aside.
Not tonight anyway.
He took a step forward, not touching her but close enough that the air around them snapped, crackled, popped. “Attraction isn’t logical.”
“That’s the first thing you’ve said all night that makes sense.” She grabbed his tie and yanked him lower until her mouth was on his in a hard, demanding kiss.
16
Kissing Sawyer after what an ass he’d been all night was the last thing Clover should be doing, but it was also the only thing she wanted. Going back to her room and taking care of the need building inside her by herself wasn’t going to do it. She needed more. Damn it, she needed him.
She broke the kiss and dropped her hands to his belt. “I don’t want slow.” She yanked the leather free from the buckle and moved on to the button and zipper holding his pants closed. “I don’t want easy.” She shoved his pants down his hips along with his boxers. “I don’t want foreplay or sweet nothings or teasing out our orgasms until we’re both about to break.” She wrapped her hand tight around his hard, warm cock and felt it jerk in response to her touch. “I want to fuck you out of my system so that I can stop thinking of you all the damn time.”
“Take off your panties and pull up your skirt.” He toed off his shoes.
Her fingers froze in the middle of pushing his pants the rest of the way down. “What?”
“You heard me.” His mouth came down on hers in a rough kiss that left her mouth bruised and wanting more when he pulled away. “You want a good, hard fuck? Get rid of your panties before I rip them off you.”
Why did such a glorious dick have to be attached to such a pompous asshole? “You’re not in charge here.”
Something flashed in his eyes a half second before he grabbed her by the waist, spun her around, and jerked up her skirt so it was around her waist. He locked an arm around her waist and pulled her back against his chest so she could feel the outline of his dick against her ass. “I’d say the question of who’s in charge is up for interpretation.” He hooked a finger in the band of her panties and ripped them free.
The scrap of black lace drifted to the floor, followed a second later by the thunk of her purse after she dropped it. Spinning in his hold, she turned to face him—the added height of her heels bringing her almost eye to eye with him. Good. Tonight she was going to see every reaction, every emotion, every response before he had time to hide them from her. Tonight, those little details would be hers.
She pressed both palms to his chest and shoved. “Control isn’t up for negotiation.”
Pants and underwear twisted around his ankles, he stumbled back a step and took her down to the floor with him. They ended up in a tangle of limbs with her sitting astride him, the stiff length of him pressed against her slick folds. She rocked against him, sliding up and down the underside of his cock, the tip of him bumping against her clit on every return trip, making her core clench. Jesus. She closed her eyes and threw back her head, concentrating on the pleasure because she couldn’t let herself connect the overwhelming sensation to the man or she might just lose herself to it and to him.
He brought his hands to her hips, his fingers squeezing her flesh and slowing the rhythm. Following his lead was a temptation she couldn’t surrender to. He’d take her, make her want more, make her want him. Looking down, she gazed at his still buttoned up shirt straining against his wide chest, the loosened tie wrinkled from where she’d grabbed it, and the glasses that sat askew on his face that did nothing to hide the desire turning his hazel eyes dark and almost gave in despite knowing what a mistake it would be.
Stilling on top of him, she pulled back from the edge. “Hands above your head.”
“Are you fucking kidding?”
Part of her was asking the same thing. “Not in the least.”
“What?” He snorted. “You want me to just lie here and be your breathing dildo?”
Like what she really wanted was something she wanted to figure out right now. “Sounds like a beautiful plan to me.”
They stared are each other, neither moving. The pang of discomfort made itself known in her knees where they pressed against the hard tile floor. Tomorrow, there might be bruises. She didn’t care. The really important thing was winning this negotiation. Discomfort was beginning to build to a throb when he lifted his finger from her hip, then another, and another. Only once both of his arms were raised above his head, one hand laying on top of the other, did she reach over, grab her purse off the floor and dump out the contents. There in the pile of lipstick, emergency eyeliner, her wallet, and her phone was the one item she wanted right now—a condom. She picked it up and tore it open with her teeth.
Watching him, his jaw as hard as the rest of him, she lifted her hips and rolled the condom over him. He closed his eyes and took in a shaky breath, and her heart shifted. God, even in a pseudo-submissive posture like this he was dangerous. Damn it, she could not go there. Not with him. She hadn’t been lying. She needed him out of her system before it was too late. A month, that’s all the time it had been and yet it felt like so much longer. Forget dangerous, he was fucking deadly.
“No kissing,” she said, desperate for rules, for boundaries.
He opened his eyes, and one eyebrow arched over the edge of his cock-eyed glasses. “Whatever you say, boss.”
The little reminder of the true nature of their relationship and the fifteen-thousand-dollar check waiting for her at the end of it slapped a piece of reality into the middle of her lust-fogged brain. Yeah, that was the other part of the equation. Four weeks had passed. Only two weeks and a few days to go and then she’d be gone. Before the implications could settle in, she lowered herself down on him, going against her own proffered directions and taking it slow, inch by inch until he filled her completely.
Sawyer fisted his hands and squeezed his eyes shut, but otherwise didn’t move. For a second, she couldn’t. All she could take in was the feeling of having him inside her. Biting down on her bottom lip so she’d keep her mouth shut and stick to the script she’d written herself, she undulated her hips as she lifted herself up and down on him. Pleasure slid through her with every rub of his cock against her G-spot and she made her moves languid and smooth despite her intentions. Sawyer lay beneath her taking it, letting her set the pace, make the demands. If he wanted, he could flip them both over and change the power dynamic, but for whatever reason he didn’t. Instead, he watched her and answered her every downward glide with an unhurried upward thrust of his own, making sure he reached every part of her he could in his position.
The lace of her bra scratched against her hard nipples, but there was nothing she could do to relieve the ache in her breasts. Like Sawyer, she was still fully dressed from the waist up. Hell, she still had her shoes on. It was sup
posed to make the whole thing between them less personal, more of an uncomplicated need being met than any kind of meaningful connection, but all the addition of clothing did was make it even more obvious that she wanted him. The fact that she was leaving in a few weeks didn’t matter, she’d started to fall for him. It was like a rock had been pushed off a cliff, it was rolling downhill and nothing—not time or the reality of the situation—was going to stop it. All she could do was hope it didn’t obliterate her when it hit.
Sawyer let out a half tortured, half blissed-out moan. “You go any slower and you’ll break your own rules.”
“Is that a complaint?” she asked, coming down hard and leaning forward so her mouth was right above his, the temptation to break another of her rules drawing her there.
“I’d never do that while buried inside you.” He brought his head up an inch or two off the floor, obviously expecting her to meet him halfway.
The last vestiges of her survival instincts flared to life. He could expect all he wanted. “Then shut up.”
Unfazed, he smirked. “You got it, Clover.”
The use of her name snapped something. She could feel the tears building along with her orgasm, which one came first was up to her and she wasn’t about to let it be the tears. So she arched her spine and leaned back, bracing her hands against his muscular thighs, digging her fingernails into him, and rode him hard and fast. His hands came down from above his head and he cupped her ass, driving her against him until they were a blur of motion and the sounds of their bodies coming together filled the hallway. It started in her core, as the head of his cock repeatedly rubbed against the bundle of nerves inside her opening with each stroke and grew outward until her entire body vibrated with sensation almost too pleasurable to be good. Right when she was at the edge of too much, it exploded and her orgasm electrified her, locking up her muscles and making her body one unyielding line.
Sawyer’s fingers bit into her and he slammed her body down onto his one last time before coming with a harsh groan. They stayed like that for a moment, breathing hard with their bodies intertwined as if what had been before and what would come after didn’t matter—only now did.
The buzz of her phone vibrating against the tile floor in the middle of the mess of her spilled purse brought her out of that bit of fantasy. Glancing down at it as she climbed off Sawyer; it took a second for the words of the text on her screen to make sense.
Mom: At the hospital with your dad. We think it’s his heart again. Please call home.
She felt dizzy, the blood draining from her face.
“Clover, what’s wrong?” Sawyer asked, concern etched in his voice.
Panic pinched her lungs until she could barely take in a breath as she read the text a second and third time with disbelieving eyes. When the last ghost of denial faded away, she fought to keep the floor beneath her. Her hands shook as she grabbed the phone and it took two tries before she hit the right name on her contacts list. Listening to it ring and ring, she pulled her skirt down and shoved everything back into her purse.
“Hey there,” her mom’s voicemail greeting started. “Sorry I missed your call, leave a message and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.”
“Mom, it’s Jane. I just got your message. I’m on my way to the hospital now. Call me as soon as you can and let me know what’s going on.” She hit the end call button and hurried to her room.
“Clover, what’s happened?” Sawyer asked again, chasing after her and pulling up his pants as he shuffled down the hall.
She stopped in her doorway, fingers curled around the frame to anchor her to the here and now while worry ate away at her self-control. Telling Sawyer, involving him in her life further, was the last thing she should do under the circumstances, but the words poured out of her. “My dad. He’s in the hospital. I need to get an Uber to the train station.”
“You don’t have to do that, I’ll drive you to Sparksville.” He pulled her into a reassuring hug. “It’ll be faster.”
It was a horrible idea. They weren’t engaged for real and not thirty minutes ago they’d been at each other’s throats. But he was right. The train would take twice as long as the drive. If they pushed the speed limit, they could be in Sparksville in an hour and a half. The train, with all its stops, would be three hours minimum. God knew what could happen to her dad in that span of time.
“Okay, let me just change and throw some clothes in a bag.” She pushed out of his embrace. “I just need five minutes to get myself together.”
“Take your time. I’ll be waiting at the elevator when you’re ready.” He turned and took a step away but paused and pivoted. “Everything will be okay. Whatever it takes, we’ll make sure of it.”
“Thanks, Sawyer.”
He nodded and headed back down the hall to his rooms.
It was an empty vow, but it was just the kind of promise she needed right now because for as much as she had spent her life up until now running away from her family and Sparksville, she’d never really expected for anything bad to happen, for it to change.
Please God, let Dad be okay.
And with that silent prayer, she hustled into her room and began stuffing clothes into her overnight bag.
17
Clover had given up her overnight bag to Sawyer as soon as they got in the elevator. Normally, it would have been something she’d have argued about—she hated that whole “weak woman” thing—but at the moment, so many worries were running through her brain like negative vipers that she couldn’t find the energy to put up a fuss. When they stepped out of the elevator, Irving was waiting by the door, holding it open.
“Everything’s arranged just like you asked, Mr. Carlyle,” he said. “Miss Lee, I’m sorry about your news.”
“Thank you, Irving,” she said as she hurried toward him.
“Yes, ma’am.” He tipped his cap, sympathy in his eyes, and held open the door. “I’ll be praying for your father.”
The small kindness brought tears to her eyes and she bit the inside of her cheek to stop them from spilling over.
“Thank you,” she said, giving him the best smile she could manage as she rushed through the door, Sawyer right behind her.
They hurried out to the waiting Town Car and got in the backseat. Linus was already behind the wheel and pulled into traffic as soon as they had their seatbelts fastened.
“The fastest way is to take Thirteenth to the Grambas Bridge,” she said, already mentally plotting out the fastest route. “After that we can—”
“We’re not going that way,” Sawyer interrupted. “We’re taking a helicopter.”
She blinked in surprise. “What?”
“It’ll take us an hour to get to Sparksville instead of two.” His phone beeped and he checked the message. “Amara already arranged to have a car waiting for us at the airport so we can go straight to the hospital.”
Helicopter. We. Hospital. She was hearing the words just fine, but in her rattled state they weren’t making sense. The bags at Sawyer’s feet snagged her attention. Her bag was bright yellow with frayed handles. The other bag was black, in impeccable shape, and so expensive looking it practically smelled like money. With everything that was going on, of course her brain grabbed ahold of the least important detail and wouldn’t let it go.
“Why do you have a bag?”
“Because I’m coming with you.” He nudged it closer to her bag. “I won’t leave you alone at a time like this.”
It was a weird thing to say considering only an hour before he’d been counting down the hours until he could end their fake engagement. “I won’t be alone. I’ll be with my family.”
He stared at her with a rush of emotions warring in his eyes that she couldn’t decipher. “If we get there and you want me gone, I’ll leave. Fair enough?”
What should she say? He’d packed up and was out the door with her in a matter of minutes, had arranged for a helicopter so they could make the trip in half the time, and alread
y had a car waiting for them at the airport. When minutes counted, he’d made sure to get the most out of every one.
Stuffing away her hurt feelings from earlier, she nodded. “Thank you.”
“Then let this officially establish that I’m a dick, not an asshole—which I obviously proved tonight. I’m sorry.” He smiled and draped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close and brushing a kiss across the top of her head. “Everything’s gonna be okay.”
God, she hoped so.
Linus made the drive to Carlyle Tower in less time than she thought possible. They scrambled out of the car and took the express elevator to the roof where the helicopter was waiting. Her stomach shimmied and shook at takeoff but settled as they flew west away from Harbor City. She and Sawyer had earphones and a mic so they could talk over the roar, but he didn’t push conversation. Instead, he held her hand as memories of her father washed over her. The time they’d gone fishing and she’d rolled the canoe, getting both of them good and soaked. The afternoons he’d spent teaching the intricacies of football and the beauty that was a baseball stat sheet. The fact that when she’d declared she wanted to live in Harbor City and go on adventures around the globe for a few years after graduation, he’d supported her even as her mom tried everything in the book to get Clover to change her mind.
Her dad had always been there for her. And what had she done in return? Left town. Rarely visited. Limited phone calls to once a week. All because she was afraid that Sparksville would suck her back in and she’d never make it out again. She’d end up like her mom, pregnant unexpectedly and married soon after. No adventure. Just day after day of packing school lunches, the PTA, and eating chicken pot pie every Thursday night because it was her husband’s favorite. Guilt, regret, and fear slashed at her like knives, cutting her up from the inside out.
Her roiling stomach let her know they’d started their descent before she noticed the water tower with the Sparksville High School bulldog painted on it. The municipal airport wasn’t big, but there was plenty of space for the helicopter to land. She and Sawyer got out, making sure to duck low to avoid the rotating chopper blades, and hurried over to a nondescript sedan parked on the tarmac.
Love in the Dark Page 33