by K Larsen
Sawyer sneaks up behind me, twines his arms around my waist, and lifts me off my feet, spinning me around. A squeal peels out of me. When he sets me down he tells me how amazing the concert was and hands me a bouquet of wildflowers before hunting Allie down and doing the same for her. I’m thankful that he attends all of her events with me because truthfully I always feel a little out of place. The majority of parents are in their mid-to-late thirties and are straight-laced. I had Allie at twenty-four, still look younger than my thirty-two years, and occasionally have a neon streak of hair complementing my look. Not to mention, oh that’s right, I’m a tattoo artist. Needless to say I do my best to keep my enormous tattoo covered up for school functions so as not to draw any extra attention to myself. This week I’m sporting a neon green streak of hair and I felt that was enough flare for this crowd.
“Ice cream time!” Allie shouts over the throng of the crowd exiting the auditorium.
“Sundaes or cones?” Sawyer chuckles at her.
“Sundaes. Duh,” she chides. “Johnny’s working tonight, right?” It’s Friday night and our good friend Johnny, who aspires to be a rockabilly punk, works at the ice cream parlor.
“He is,” I answer her. Allie has a major crush on him. Sawyer grabs my hand, lacing his fingers through mine and does the same with Allie as we make our way for ice cream. We’re seated quickly and as soon as Johnny sees us he scrambles over to our table to chat for a minute.
“How’s my favorite girl?” he asks and ruffles Allie’s hair.
“I’m good,” I interject and get an eye roll from Allie and a full on laugh from Sawyer.
“What are you guys having tonight?” Johnny asks, unfazed.
“Banana split,” Allie orders.
“Care to make things interesting?” Johnny asks with mischief in his eyes.
“Uh, I think your pants have already done that,” I say in a deadpan tone as Allie gasps in embarrassment. Johnny is known for his crazy get-ups and today is no disappointment. He’s wearing navy blue trousers with pink whales embroidered on them. Sawyer turns his head and tries to stifle his laugh but it’s a useless cause.
“Witty little sprite, aren't you,” Johnny chuckles before taking the rest of our orders and disappearing behind the ice cream counter.
“Seriously, Mom. What .Is. Wrong. With. You?” Allie quips.
“What? I was funny.” I shrug.
“Sawyer, make her stop,” she whines for help.
“Alliecat, you know there is absolutely nothing anyone can do to stifle your mother, me included,” he laughs. Allie pouts and refuses to make eye contact with me for the duration of our ice cream trip. Girls: so fickle.
I throw my feet up on the couch as soon as Allie’s asleep and toss my head back. “Long day, Mama. You did good,” Sawyer says, rubbing my legs.
“Allie sounded great didn't she? I mean the rest of the kids were stellar but she really has a gift.”
“You’re not biased or anything right?” he snickers.
“As if. If my kid sucked at singing I wouldn't encourage her to keep at it. No one wants bloody ear drums,” I giggle.
“True. If anyone were going to be honest about their child it would be you.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I bark. He lets out a sigh and shakes his head.
“Not everything I say to you is an affront, Clara. I just meant you’re honest to a fault.” His irritation is barely contained. What’s going on?
“Okay,” I reply, not wanting to take this any further.
“Sorry. I’m just tired,” he apologizes, although for what I’m not really sure.
“No worries, muffin. I’m beat. I think I’m gonna head upstairs.” I stand and toss my hair over my shoulder.
“Night, Mama,” Sawyer mumbles.
“Night.”
Stumbling to find my footing I miss the next step and tumble. His hate-filled eyes stare into mine, watching me hit the stairs. My body bends unnaturally as I hit each stair. Pain shoots through me and I can’t seem to do anything but cover my head. A sharp crack and searing pain blow through my arm before I crumple at the bottom in a pile of skin, bones, and sobs. Oh my god. The baby.
I dart up, a strangled cry ripping from my throat as Sawyer bursts through the door. Flipping the light on, holding a bat in nothing but his boxers, he’s quite the sight. His abdominals flex with every ragged breath he takes and there’s a light sheen of sweat coating his body.
“What the hell, Clara?” he booms and suddenly I’m very turned on.
“Shhh. You’ll wake Allie,” I whisper-shout. He takes a deep breath and rests the bat against the wall. “I thought someone was killing you. You never scream like that.” He shudders at the thought. I feel bad for worrying him.
“Sorry. Bad dream,” I admit sheepishly as he turns off the light and prowls to the bed looking very appetizing.
“What’s up with all these dreams again? It hasn't been this bad since we first met,” he says, wrapping himself around me like a blanket.
“I don't know,” I sigh, but I do know. It’s because of Dom. Because of what he represents, his status, everything I’ve worked so hard to escape from.
“Is it the same dream?” he asks softly, toying with a strand of my hair.
“Mmmhhmmm,” I murmur and plant a kiss at the hollow of his throat. His sharp intake of breath is all the invitation I need. I nip and lick my way from his throat to his chest and abs, working each muscle, nipple, and ridge with my mouth. His muscles twitch under me and his breath is ragged. I love it. Moving further south I tongue his happy trail to the elastic band of his boxers.
“What are you doing, Clara?” His voice is rough and gravelly with need. “Shh,” I instruct as I hook his boxers with my thumbs and yank them off him. He fists my hair, dragging me up his body and I can’t help but kiss him. Crushing my mouth to his I frantically kiss him with every emotion I have. His hands slide up under his tee shirt I’m wearing and with a quick lift it’s over my head and tossed to the floor. My panties land next to the tee shirt. His rough hands send electric shocks through me as he palms my breasts and I can’t take it anymore. I need him in me. I position myself over him but before I can sink my weight down he flips us over and grunts, “No.”
Stunned, I stop moving and stare down at him. “No?” I ask hesitantly. His eyes get stormy as he admires my body beneath him. He dips his head to my neck and lets his lips and tongue work over every inch of my body until I’m trembling and on the brink. Kissing both my inner thighs I realize the treat I’m about to receive. We don’t partake in oral often but when we do, watch out world. Sawyer is an expert and for some reason tonight he wants to give. His tongue-lashing at my core sends me over the edge entirely too fast and I crash into my orgasm as I come undone at his mouth. I’m squirming and bucking with pleasure and the groans Sawyer emits as he lavishes my clit with attention make me spasm even harder. When the shaking in my legs subsides he moves up my body, watching me like a lion about to pounce. I love it when he looks at me like that. He hooks my legs over his shoulders and enters without hesitation, splitting and filling me entirely. My eyes snap closed as he thrusts into me, hitting that illustrious g-spot. “Look at me,” he growls. His voice is so domineering I instantly do as I’m told.
This is a far cry from the love-making he usually doles out. His pace picks up as he gazes at me. It’s intense and erotic. His eyes give him away as they cloud over just before he comes. His feral cry sends me over the edge again and we fall apart together, tangled and sweaty. “Holy shit,” I breathe.
“What was that?” he rasps.
I shrug. “I don't know but I’m glad it happened,” I sigh contentedly.
“God, Clara. You’re going to be the death of me,” he exhales and looks at me. His blue eyes are so intense.
“You could always say no,” I remind him lightly.
“As if, Mama. We both know I’ll never say no,” he whispers and kisses my temple. My heart cracks just a lit
tle at his statement. I want him to be happy. I really do but this is just so...easy.
“Love you, muffin,” I murmur.
“Ditto,” he gulps before disengaging from me and pulling me into our normal spoon. It takes forever but his breathing eventually goes shallow and steady. I need to tread lightly because I can’t imagine losing this. I can’t afford to lose this. I follow him into a deep slumber free of dreams and nightmares.
Marking Territory
My phone chirps in my hand alerting me that I have a new text message.
Amanda: How are things?
Great. You?
Amanda: SSDD
I hear ya
Amanda: Any word from Napoli
No. Why?
Amanda: Rumor has it he’s mentioned your name
Fuck off
Amanda: Totally serious
Shit
Amanda: Shit?
Yeah. Shit. Manda you know it can't happen
Amanda: ...you sure
You know it.
Amanda: I’ll see if I can't pass the message along
You talk?
Amanda: No. I have contact info from the art.
Oh. Right. K. Love ya, Gotta jet.
“Who was that?” Sawyer asks.
“Kylieee,” I snicker.
“Tell her I say ‘hi,’” he shakes his head and laughs.
“Amanda,” I admit.
“Well tell her I say ‘hi’ too,” he retorts.
“Sure thing, stud,” I chuckle.
At four we’ve both finished our appointments for the day and set about cleaning up the shop and our stations in preparation for the hustle and bustle of tomorrow’s appointments.
“What’re we doin’ for dinner tonight?” I call over my shoulder to Sawyer.
“I’m meeting Kylie,” he says nervously. I grumble with good-natured jealousy under my breath instead of answering him. Ever since the night we had amazing sex he’s been weird and to top it all off the next day he was “on again” with Kylie. Coincidence, I think not. He’s trying to compartmentalize our relationship which is no easy feat I’ll admit, but when he does this it makes me want to strangle him. I hate feeling like I’m being shut out and pushed away. It’s my own fault but I still hate the way it makes my stomach hurt.
“But it’s my last night home before camp!” Allie whines, and I snicker at the surprise guilt trip he’s getting.
“Sorry, Alliecat. I’m sure you and your mom will have a nice dinner though.” The pained look on his face snaps me out of my pity party. He hates disappointing Allie so sticking to his guns is kind of a big deal right now. I go back to cleaning up my station, feeling rotten about myself and the hoops Sawyer constantly jumps through for me.
“Sorry, mister, we’re appointment only today,” Allie blows out sternly. From the corner of my eye I see Sawyer watching her cautiously which sets me on edge.
“I’ll make an appointment then,” a deep voice booms and a chill rips through me. I snap my eyes to the direction of the voice but can’t see the front desk from here. Sawyer struts to Allie’s side before I have a chance to make my feet move.
“We’re closed. Come back tomorrow if you want to make an appointment,” Sawyer rumbles. His voice has a hard edge to it that doesn’t come out often.
“I’m looking for Clara Lord,” the smooth deep voice replies and my heart starts beating furiously in my chest. It’s Dominic. Forcing my feet to move, I step around the corner and join Allie and Sawyer.
“Can I help you?” I ask, totally pretending to be unaffected. Dominic’s gaze reduces me to puddle as his eyes sweep from my feet up to my face. My tongue darts out wetting my bottom lip and Dominic’s eyes drop to my mouth to follow the movement. He looks like he’s ready to attack me and by attack I mean maul me in very delicious and sinful ways. Sawyer bristles next to me. The tension is so palpable I can feel it on my skin.
“Clara. How nice to see you.” His greeting exudes charm and class.
“Allie, go help Sawyer clean up so we can get out of here,” I urge, shooting a look at them both. Neither one of them moves for a moment and I smack Allie’s rear to get her moving. She tugs on Sawyer’s hand to try and get him to fall in line but he waves her off and stands at my side.
“What can I do for you, Mr. Napoli?” My voice sounds tense even to me and almost instantaneously Sawyer slings his arm over my shoulder in a show of possession. I want to body check him for the testosterone show. Dominic eyes him shrewdly and it makes my heart beat even more wildly. How does he do this to me and what the hell does he want?
“Come now, Clara, Mr. Napoli? We’re more acquainted than that. Please call me Dominic.”
Sawyer’s arm squeezes a little tighter, folding me into him, and I wrinkle my nose in frustration at the contact. This is turning into a pissing match. I wonder who would win? Sawyer is probably more adept at street fighting but Dominic certainly doesn't look like he ever loses when he sets his mind to something and he looks hungry...for me.
“Whatever, Dom. Why are you here?” I shrug out of Sawyer’s hold, letting him know in no uncertain terms that I can handle myself.
“I’d like to make an appointment with you,” he says, grinning.
“Like Sawyer said, we’re closed. Come back tomorrow and make one then,” I state. Dominic’s eyes flash something I can’t quite make out before he puts his hands up in mock surrender. “Fine. I’ll be back tomorrow then,” he concedes, smirks at Sawyer, which makes my blood boil, and turns on the heel of his expensive loafer, exiting the shop. What is going on? Sawyer follows him and locks the door behind him before laying into me.
“What the hell was that Clara?” he barks.
“I don't know. I’m just as surprised as you but I didn't feel the need to pee all over myself to mark my territory,” I shout, infuriated by his behavior.
“Piss all over you? Is that what I did?” he volleys back.
“Watch yourself, Sawyer Crown,” I bust out the “mom” voice on him.
“Clara Lord, if you even try to mom me I'll kick your ass. Now spill it: what the fuck was that about?” he growls at me. I can’t decide if I want to punch him or molest him when his voice sounds like that. He’s so...masculine right now. I shake my head slightly, trying to clear my thoughts.
“I don't know...” I say more softly. He'd better believe me because I really have no clue why the hell Dominic Napoli showed up at our shop and it’s a little frightening.
“How does he know where you work?” The harshness in his tone from earlier is dissipating.
“Honestly, Sawyer, I’m as shocked as you are. I never even told him what I do for a living let alone where I live, for all he knew I lived in Boston. We didn’t exactly converse,” I crow, throwing my hands up.
“I don't like this at all. He gives me the creeps,” he complains and shudders.
“Yeah, I know. Try waking up in his house,” I say under my breath.
Sawyer rushes to me and pulls me to his chest. “I think maybe I should stay home with you and Allie tonight just in case.” I let my body mold to his and nod my head in agreement. What the hell was Dominic Napoli doing in Blacksburg, Virginia? This is not good.
“Mom,” Allie peeps. She gets really upset when Sawyer and I bicker. I remind myself that it’s okay for her to see us bicker as long as she sees us make up, too--that showing her what a normal relationship looks like is good for her. I didn’t have that kind of stability growing up. My mother was a whore who was happily uninvolved in my life until I had something to offer her.
“It’s fine, Allie, come here,” Sawyer says and offers out an arm and she sneaks in between us for a three-person hug.
“Who was that guy?” she asks curiously.
“No one,” I answer, with a strange twinge of guilt. Well, he’s no one to me, anyways, I try to convince myself, but there is something there. I just don't know what the hell it is. The rest of the evening is pretty tense. Sawyer doesn't really say much th
rough dinner and even Allie is unusually quiet. I plop on the couch after getting Allie to bed and nuzzle into Sawyer but he stiffens and scooches away just slightly, putting me on high alert.
“What was that?” I ask cautiously.
“Huh? What?” he feigns naivety.
“If you don't want to snuggle just say so, you don’t have to grow a vag on me and act like a bitch,” I huff and scoot to the other end of the couch. Now who’s the vagina? He sighs loudly and pinches the bridge of his nose, clearly brooding about something.
“I’m a little thrown. You say you hate this guy. Don’t talk about him at all after getting back initially...then he shows up and you look at him like you’re about to jump him but talk him like you want to strangle him,” he rambles. Damn, he hit the nail on the head.
“That about sums it up,” I retort.
“Huh?”
“Your summary was accurate. I have no more information to tell than what you just said.” I cross my arms over my chest, slightly irked.
“You want to jump him?” he asks, astonished. What is the big deal? We’ve both dated over the years and although he doesn't particularly approve of anyone, he’s never let it affect our relationship when we’re alone together. I know he wants more but he knows I don’t have more to give. That because of my limited experience with relationships gone wrong and because of my home life growing up I’m just not willing to commit. He has so much to offer and I…well, I just have myself and Allie--and somehow that doesn’t seem like a fair trade.