Sacrifice of the Pawn: Spin-Off of the Surrender Trilogy (Surrender Games Book 1)

by Lydia Michaels

  “I don’t expect you to love me, Sawyer.”

  Yes, that sounded mature, something a woman of the world might say. And, sadly, it was true. She didn’t expect him to love her. But, oh, she hoped someone would eventually love her.

  “But you deserve love, Isadora. Someday, you’ll want your own family. I could never offer such things—not to you or anyone. This … would be a distraction. You’d be missing out on better opportunities.”

  He was acting like one night had to decide the rest of their lives. How could anyone make such commitments after sleeping together once?

  Maybe she did want a family of her own. She was so busy raising her brother and sister she never gave the subject much thought. But what if by the time Toni was an adult Isadora was too burnt out to do it all over again? Then they would’ve missed out on whatever this could have been because of some shortsighted assumption. It was simply impossible to see that far into the future.

  “I’m not sure that’s what I want,” she confessed. And that was the truth.

  Her life was too complicated right now to think that far ahead. Her plate was full and her appetite wasn’t complicated. What she and Sawyer could possibly share seemed the perfect portion for her life at the moment.

  “Isadora, you have to recognize that children of your own are likely in your future. There’s a maternal grace about you that many women work their entire lives to achieve.”

  His words were flattering, but also frustrating. It seemed like she was being punished for doing the right thing. When she thought of motherhood she thought of her mother, alone, tired, always begging for her father’s attention and never receiving it. A bird lost in a great big sky—alone.

  Motherhood, as she saw it, was a lonesome labor of love. Sisterhood was satisfying, but her own experiences muddled that, too. She initially wanted kids, but then she unofficially adopted her siblings. And somehow that good deed was being punished by Sawyer dumping her after two hours. That had to be some sort of a record.

  Her temples pounded with pressure. This was not the night to make big decisions. Her sex-addled brain was diluted in scotch and now she felt like kicking something.

  The truth was, it didn’t matter whether she wanted children someday or not. All the wanting in the world wouldn’t make that happen for her without a man—or some decent sperm donors at least. Always an option…

  Once again, she felt trapped, cornered by the bigger players of the world. This was always the way of things. She was living her life here in this house, doing everything a good sister would do, but it was never her turn to choose the next move. Everything seemed out of reach and she wasn’t sure how or if that might change.

  Toni wouldn’t be an adult for eight more years. By then she’d be thirty-one. Women of her social status typically married in their early twenties. She couldn’t imagine falling in love that late in life, taking the time to get married, and then the additional time it would take to start a family. She’d be forty-something by the time she got her romantic life in order.

  And if she couldn’t imagine falling in love in her thirties and going through all those relationship stages, it seemed perfectly rational to accept Sawyer not falling in love in his forties.

  This was her best option. Yet. So far. Maybe ever.

  “I don’t need you to love me,” she explained honestly, her hand closing over his.

  She only wanted to see him again, have him the way she had tonight so he could ease some of her loneliness, but she also didn’t want to beg. She was simply offering.

  There was nothing wrong with a woman seeing that her physical and emotional needs were occasionally met. If they moved forward with open eyes and called their relationship exactly what it was then there would be no misunderstandings or misconceptions about the future. She was pretty sure adults did this sort of thing all the time—consensual affairs with no strings attached.

  She continued to push her position. “I don’t want to pretend this never happened, Sawyer. I’m glad it did. I needed this more than you probably realize, but I think you needed it just as much. Let’s not cut it down before it has a chance to bloom.”

  “Sweetheart,” he said slowly, his gaze troubled. “We can’t have a normal relationship. Not a long term one or even a fleeting one. There’s a lot at stake here that we have to consider. Those aren’t just words. And I’m not going to change my position. Another night would be misleading.”

  Ignoring the sense that her worth might have just been cheapened, she focused only on the things that made her feel valuable. “I didn’t ask for your future or a commitment. I’m merely suggesting that you not remove the possibility of us … meeting again. I’m not a little girl, Sawyer, and I’m not going to make this into something it’s not. ”

  His fingers ghosted over her jaw as he studied her, eyes appraising. “You say that now but…”

  Her soft laughter was devoid of cheer. “Don’t expect too much, Sawyer.” How come men were never short on self-worth? “My life’s here, with Toni. Sometimes I don’t even have time for myself. I’m not a high maintenance person and I never expect anyone else to answer for my own actions. I’ve also become quite competent at relying on myself.”

  “I know that and I’d love to be with you again, bella, but I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “ I’m responsible for me.”

  He studied her for several silent seconds. “This is really what you want? You’d be able to live with my conditions?”

  “I think it would be nice if you visited again, like this, nothing more. If my feelings on the subject change, you’ll be the first to know.”

  As his eyes shifted she sensed his mind working, though he remained silent for a moment. “I hate having to ask you this, but—”

  “I wouldn’t tell anyone,” she assured, saving him the discomfort of asking. “It can be our secret, no one’s business but ours.”

  “That should bother you.”

  Perhaps over time it would, but there were no rules saying she couldn’t walk away. All she knew was that she wanted him. Tonight he’d shown her sides of herself she’d never expected, sides that were exclusively hers and no one else’s.

  It was the first selfish thing she’d done for herself in—she couldn’t remember a time she’d last done something only to serve her needs and no one else’s. And with her limited experience, it was probably wise to practice with a man like Sawyer. They could explore. Then if she did move on, she wouldn’t be a bumbling idiot with the next guy. And if no one knew what they were doing, no one could judge her for experimenting with a man twice her age. But the age thing really was a non-issue.

  Meeting his gaze, she gave him a confident smile. “Discretion doesn’t bother me.” In a way, she favored it, and in this case it suited them.

  Tracing a gentle finger along her jaw, he looked into her eyes and brushed his mouth over hers. Warm fingers swept under her hair, holding her to him as he deepened the kiss.

  Her body awoke with the now familiar twinges of desire, longing rekindling inside of her. He pulled her over his legs and she giggled, feeling awkward yet delicate on his lap, and giddy that he was no longer trying to push her away.

  As his hand gripped her hip, massaging firmly, the press of his arousal surprised her and she broke the kiss, staring down at where their bodies touched.

  “Ignore it,” he said, pulling her mouth back to his.

  But she couldn’t ignore it. When his fingers flexed into her hips, a sensual, almost feline part of her came alive, begging to be touched, greedy for every caress. As much as she respected his desire to do the right thing, she was determined to prove she was not a little girl needing to be coddled. She was a grown woman who could decide for herself.

  It didn’t take much to convince him once her hands were under his clothes, yet he never truly surrendered his control. The urgent need to touch him was bolstered by familiarity, but every time she rushed to expose his skin, he slowed her motions.


  Capturing her wrists, he brought her fingers to his lips and kissed them gently. “Slow, bella. Feel.”

  She had absolutely no reservations about sex. And while she had no grounds for comparison, she believed Sawyer was an excellent lover.

  It seemed this time he intended to make it meaningful. He lifted her and turned her to her back, cupping her face as he slowly fed his length into her, his stare penetrating any shield that lie between them. There was a level of intimacy so intense she sometimes needed to close her eyes, but Sawyer was inescapable.

  He was everywhere, in the air she breathed, on her lips, against her chest, deep in her body. She loved it.

  Every time he touched her she desired more, became less inhibited, and caressed his body as brazenly as he explored hers. The longer she tasted and teased the more he unveiled. And then he was the one shutting his eyes and she saw the raw, exposed intimacy for all that it was. Making love.

  Watching him lose himself in that moment of completion was perhaps her favorite part. Seeing him so vulnerable and open had an empowering affect. To think, she—an inexperienced woman—could draw that response from a man like Sawyer Bishop. Yes, she liked sex very much.

  “That wasn’t supposed to happen again,” Sawyer murmured, bare limbs tangled with hers as they slowly caught their breath.

  Isadora giggled, feeling quite daring. Men thought they knew everything. He seemed pretty happy with her decision—despite his earlier objections. And regardless of what was supposed to happen , she was more than certain this wouldn’t be the last time they made love.

  She snuggled into his side and kissed his chest. “Maybe next time we can use a bed. I think you gave me rug burn.”

  His laugh was gruff, his lips teasing over her bare shoulder. “We definitely need to find a bed.”

  The side of her mouth pulled into a smirk. Yes, they would definitely be doing this again.

  Chapter Five

  “Heart, we will forget him,

  You and I, tonight!

  You must forget the warmth he gave,

  And I will forget the light.

  When you have done pray tell me,

  Then I, my thoughts, will dim.”

  Emily Dickenson

  Heart, We Will Forget Him

  As the days passed there was little word from Lucian and even less from Sawyer. The more time that went by the harder it became not to pick up the phone and ask what was going on, but she’d made it clear to Sawyer she wouldn’t treat this like a traditional relationship and she needed to keep her actions as low maintenance as possible. That meant she couldn’t appear needy in any way.

  Unsure how affairs worked, Isadora adapted her expectations on a regular basis. It was easy to get upset when he didn’t call, but no amount of longing made her phone ring or gave her the courage to contact him. So she did her best to occupy her free time with other things.

  Toni had started sixth grade and they spent a lot of time shopping for the school year. If anything, her sister’s temperament could be subdued with a new wardrobe. It was a decent excuse for retail therapy. Isadora only wished Toni found equal excitement in her books and school supplies.

  By mid-September Isadora understood a new level of parenthood. Though Toni was young, her classmates were not. Her sister seemed to be hitting the tedious tween stage a lot faster than Lucian had.

  Hoping to get to know some of these new middle school players in her sister’s life, Isadora agreed to let Toni have a sleepover with three friends. She didn’t anticipate the level of privacy eleven and twelve-year-olds could demand.

  Isadora found herself lingering outside the den where they shut the doors. The boisterous giggles and whispered confessions had her longing for a part of her childhood she’d somehow misplaced. She’d been in eighth grade when their mother first became sick and that time of her life would forever be shrouded in grief and confusion.

  After endless nagging and getting the permission of the other girls’ parents, she allowed them to watch a PG-13 movie. Eventually the girls passed out like puppies on a stack of pillows and blankets on the floor. Isadora locked up the house and made her way to bed, no more familiar with her houseguests than she was when they arrived several hours earlier.

  She had to be cooler than the other moms. She was a sister, not a mom. She was in her early twenties. Somehow these facts didn’t translate to Toni and her friends the way Isadora had hoped.

  As she lay in the darkness, her mind turned over mundane thoughts, but always pulled back to Sawyer. She wondered if she’d embellished her memories, painted a fairytale that could never match the reality.

  It seemed her imagination was the only guarantee she could count on. Picturing his dark hair, she shut her eyes and pressed a lock of her own between her fingertips.

  Her mind worked hard to conjure the exact scent of his cologne. Sliding her panties down her legs, she slowly drew circles on her torso, her touch traveling lower with each pictured detail of him.

  Every time she touched herself like this it became a game to recall as many characteristics as possible. When her fingers finally reached between her thighs she was soaking wet.

  Her body arched, driving the fantasy into darker territories that had nothing to do with her time with Sawyer. Sometimes she surprised herself with how erotic her fantasies could get. Other times she struggled to reach completion, too irritated by her lackluster reality to feel much of anything.

  As her hand worked between her thighs, her teeth bit into her lower lip, stifling her moans. Stroking faster, deeper, she arched against the bedding, yearning for the exact moment she tipped into ecstasy.

  “Sawyer,” she rasped, sliding her fingers over tender flesh. “Yes…”

  Her toes pointed and her heart raced. Tiny shivers chased over her exposed skin as a delicate tremble spread through her middle. It was a small victory, but still a victory. Knowing that she could do such things for herself was the only consolation she had in a reality where the guy never called.

  Letting her limbs fall flat on the bed, she sighed and stared into the shadows. He’d better call soon or she’d never be able to look him in the eye again.

  But time carried on with no sign of him. She felt foolish for harboring hope. Perhaps this was not an affair at all, but a one-night stand. Maybe the second time they had made love truly was an accident, a mistake he honestly didn’t want to repeat.

  The thought that she might have pushed him cheapened the memory, making it something tawdry, steeped in expensive scotch and desperation. She blamed herself for getting into this mess, but she also blamed him, because what hurt most was the shame—shame that hadn’t existed until he refused to contact her.

  She’d gone to her doctor and requested a prescription for birth control, relieved that her cycle hadn’t been interrupted by a night that apparently meant nothing. But every morning she swallowed that silly pill she felt more ridiculous than the day before. By Halloween she was certain the birth control was unnecessary.

  Sawyer had always been a quiet constant in their lives. His continued absence spoke of more than busyness. It reeked of avoidance. She should have run into him by now. She wasn’t sure what was worse, the fact that she thought about him all the time or the worry that he might never think about her at all.

  She occupied herself with plans for the holidays. Lucian would be returning for Thanksgiving and she decided to host a feast fit for kings. She never prepared a turkey before, but the kitchen staff was more than helpful. She suspected they would’ve preferred to do the job themselves, but she was determined to have a holiday like ordinary people, one made from love and recipes found online.

  Isadora wasn’t prepared for the changes in her brother. Though he’d only been gone a short time, she expected the same person to return. The man who walked through the door on the eve of Thanksgiving was not the boy she watched drive away last August.

  Though it pained her to see him grow up so fast, it also filled her with immeasurable p
ride. Even his clothing seemed more mature.

  Toni was thrilled to have their brother home again and it pleased Isadora very much that Lucian appeared equally thrilled to see his little sister. Not only was he attentive to Toni’s prattling tales, he appeared genuinely interested in her middle school drama, teasing her that if any boys dared to kiss his baby sister he’d cut out their tongues.

  This confused Toni, who had yet to discover what a tongue might have to do with kissing.

  As Isadora peeled the sweet potatoes for tomorrow, Toni disappeared with the phone. Lucian turned to her and grinned. “She’s growing up too fast.”

  “The same could be said for you.”

  He didn’t acknowledge her indisputable observation. “Soon she’ll be able to stay home by herself.”

  “I don’t see why that’s important. There’s always someone here.”

  “Exactly.”

  She frowned at him. “What are you trying to say, Lucian?”

  He shrugged. “Just pointing out that you aren’t chained to the house. You could make time for yourself.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I have all the time I need.”

  “Really? When’s the last time you went on a date?”

  She laughed at the idea. “I don’t date.”

  “I know. I’m suggesting you start.”

  Holding the peeler in her fist, she lowered her hand to the counter and twisted her lips. “And how am I supposed to do that? Go sit at a bar and wait for some stranger to approach? Or perhaps I could just introduce myself then have the luxury of swatting away all the gold digging letches who care nothing about me and everything about Daddy’s legacy and the doors his name can open.”

  “I’m just saying you should get out there.”

  “And what about you? Are you getting out there ?”

  “I’m not short on company, but I’m too ambitious to tie myself down.”

  That he certainly was. “And I’m not ambitious?”

  He shrugged. “Are you? What do you want? I want to see you happy.”

  Why did she feel like the child here? “I am happy. I appreciate you checking up on my social life, Lucian, but I assure you I’m fine with the way things are.” Sort of.