“We know.”
“But nothing like that. I mean nothing. I didn’t even know sex could feel like that. Shit. I’m not even making sense. But I had no clue…” He kissed the side of my face. “Felt so close to you, too. Like I could feel your…I don’t know…pulse.”
I felt exactly the same way but couldn’t let on. This was just Sawyer taking the training wheels off his kinky side for the first time. This was Sawyer who seldom got serious about anything or anyone. No way could I let on that the sex had undone me as well. “Do you always talk after sex?” I asked instead.
“Yep.” He didn’t sound put out at all and pulled up the covers around us. “ ’Specially when it rocked my world.”
“I should get—”
“It’s going to be a bit before I can drive. And no way am I letting you walk a couple of miles this time of night.”
“It’s not that far—”
“How is it that you only take orders when you’re turned on?” He laughed. “No, Hols. You’re not leaving. Go to sleep.”
He effectively pinned me with his snuggling so that his arm and leg encircled me. He breathed deep, nuzzled my head a few times, and then was asleep. I wished desperately that it was as easy for me, but instead I lay there, heavy with the knowledge that everything was changing, and probably not for the better.
Chapter 10
“You’re gripping it too tightly,” I said, a bit too chiding for that early in the morning. “It’ll splatter if you’re not careful.”
“Geez. So sensitive.” Sawyer corrected his grip. “How do you manage to do this all the time?”
“Oh, you get used to the idiosyncrasies. Especially when you’re…committed.”
“Hey, I’m plenty committed. I’m the one who asked for a pen lesson before I run you home.”
“Indeed you are.” I sipped the tea of indeterminate age and origin Sawyer had had in his cabinet. Somehow I’d slept all night next to Sawyer; I had no idea when my worrying had given way to sleep, but I’d woken up with Sawyer wrapped around me. I’d gently extracted myself and gone in search of tea, but he’d found me before the tea finished steeping and requested that I show him how to use his new pen before he ran me back to my place.
I really did need to shower and change before I opened the store at ten but get me talking pens and I lose all track of time. We were sitting at the cherry table in his little dining nook, me with my tea and him with some coffee that looked like it could double as airplane fuel. I’d shown him how to fill the pen and how to clean it and now he was practicing making some notes in his notebook.
I want to see you tonight, he wrote in his blocky script, passing me the notebook.
I plucked the pen from his grasp. We’ll see. Don’t waste your notebook paper on trifles.
He took the pen back the moment I finished. You calling this a trifle? He leaned in and kissed me soundly before I realized what he was about.
“It’s an indulgence,” I said. “One that’s going to lead to regret and awkwardness once you get this out of your system.”
“What makes you think that’s going to happen?” He kissed along my jaw, which was in need of a shave, but he didn’t seem to care.
“Sawyer. Other than soccer, you’ve never had a hobby last—you took one semester of choir, gave up trumpet before you even needed a valve replacement, quit photography before Aria’s first birthday, tried knitting when Ev first came to town and lost interest as soon as he and Brady became a thing, and left Spanish before that series of classes ended. You’ll move on from baking eventually, too—and me.”
“So this is just a diversion, that’s what you’re saying? Something I’m going to quit on?” For this early in the morning, his voice had plenty of challenge in it.
“We are not betting on this,” I said firmly before he could propose something.
“I am.” He kissed me again, almost toppling me out of my chair with his intensity. “And I don’t believe in doom and gloom, Hollis. Especially at this time of year.”
I didn’t tell him that was all I believed in, or rather, all I would let myself believe in with him. The morning outside his window was a stark gray contrast to the sunshine Sawyer kept trying to blow my way. Everyone in Oregon knew better than to trust December sun. The rain always came back. I knew with absolute certainty that by January he’d be on to something else. Instead, I kissed him back with desperate intensity.
“Shower here.” His eyes gleamed. “I’ve got a nice one.”
“I’m not—”
“I am.” He kissed me again, lips working far better than words to turn me inside out, make me forget the boundaries I was supposed to be erecting. And when he dragged me toward his bathroom, all I could think about was how filthy Sawyer made getting clean sound.
“Better not make me late.”
* * * *
As it turned out, I had barely enough time to take a second lightning-fast shower and shave at my place, feed Benedict, and rush to open the shop. As I pulled my keys out of my bag, I discovered a note written in green ink by the scratchy hand of someone still getting used to a fountain pen.
Thank you for the birthday gift! I can tell I’m going to have fun with this…
And I was serious about seeing you tonight.
There once was a hot guy named Hollis
Whose phallus was totally flawless
Whene’er he got blown
His lover would moan
Until he was totally jawless
I laughed, tucking the note back away. The store was empty so I grabbed my phone and sent a fast text.
You’re incorrigible. And you might want to stick to store management.
The reply came faster than I would have expected. Aww, Hollis, that’s the first compliment you’ve given me on our store.
Oh, that man. I wasn’t sure whether to strangle him or count the hours until I could kiss him again. I smiled to myself as I straightened displays and waited for my midmorning traffic to arrive.
To my surprise, my first customer was looking for thank-you cards. “The clerk across the street said you’d probably have just the thing,” the older woman in a trench coat said.
Sawyer sending me business? Either he’d snuck a look at my bottom line—not that one—or sex had addled his brain. His store had thank-you cards, too—albeit most with licensed characters, whereas mine were thick, embossed card stock.
I got that customer all squared away with thank-you cards, a nice micro gel pen, and some small-batch stickers for her planner, then had a nice stream of lunchtime traffic. Around two thirty, when the store was dead and I was working on the books on my laptop, Sawyer came in juggling a white envelope and two steaming coffee cups from People’s Cup.
“What’s this?” I asked, coming out from behind the counter to take a cup before he could spill on my floor.
“Gingerbread lattes. I dare you to taste one, Mr. Grinch. Guaranteed instant holiday spirit.”
“I don’t usually drink coffee,” I reminded him, even though these did smell exquisite.
“Just try it,” Sawyer urged. He was so cute when he was eager that I had to laugh before blowing on the coffee and taking a sip. It tasted spicy and sweet, heavy with notes of ginger and brown sugar. It reminded me of Mom’s holiday baking, but in a way that left me comforted, not sad.
“Not bad,” I allowed. “I’m not feeling the urge for huge gatherings, but not bad at all.” I took a second sip.
“And here.” Hollis handed me the envelope, which had a card in it.
I withdrew the card, which proclaimed, “I’d walk to Mordor for you.” It was one of a four-pack that Sawyer’s shop sold, all with corny Tolkien-referencing slogans.
The inside had another limerick,
Hollis, you’re just so damn hot
You tie all my thoughts up in
knots
Which was inconvenient
Because I was too lenient
But now I would knot you a lot!
Underneath, he’d written, Tonight? My mouth, your dick, my place again? I laughed because I simply couldn’t not. “You are rather oral-obsessed, aren’t you?”
“Yup.” He grinned shamelessly. “You’re…er…not, right?”
“Tie my hands, get me on my knees, and you’ll see.”
Sawyer’s breath hissed in. Oh, I did love shocking him. “I think I like your poetry better than mine.”
“I’m not into swallowing, but I trust you to get…creative.” I couldn’t believe we were really standing here flirting like this. Or that I was enjoying it so much. I blamed the latte.
Sawyer’s eyes went to the slate-gray tie I was wearing that day. “Put up your ‘Back in Five Minutes’ sign and show me this bathroom that needs painting.”
“You’re not ruining a perfectly nice Hugo Boss tie.”
“I own some cheap ones,” he said quickly. God, his eagerness to go there really was adorable. “And I was reading up on the right kind of rope—”
“I might own some,” I admitted.
“What time should I come over?”
“There are poodles at the dog park less eager to hump something than you.”
He snort-laughed until he had tears at the corners of his eyes. “I’ll bring pho.”
Oh, the man knew just how to be tempting, with one of my favorite foods. “I suppose I do still owe you that pan. But I want to get a run in, so let’s say eight.”
“I might die of a hard-on by then,” he whined.
“Good. More pho for me.” I looked at the door; no foot traffic seemed imminent. It was a rainy day with a heavy drizzle coming down. “Do you want a quick glance at the bathroom you’ll be painting one of these bets?”
“God yes.” He followed me around the corner behind the register.
“Note that I’m not flipping my sign,” I said as I turned on the bathroom light. “I’m just showing—”
He stopped me with firm hands on my shoulders and soft lips against my own. He plundered my mouth until I sagged bonelessly against him.
“God, I needed that, Hols.” He rested his forehead against mine. “You make me crazy.”
“You make me reckless,” I countered. “And—”
“See you at eight,” he said, backing away before I could continue a lecture.
* * * *
I fretted the remainder of the afternoon. I’d apparently created a monster by introducing Sawyer to the shallow end of the kink pool and I was torn between wanting to show him more and wanting to slam a lid on that part of myself. I hadn’t indulged in any of this since Yuto, and because all that trusting him had gotten me was a badly bruised heart, I’d always assumed I wouldn’t go down that path again, no matter how much I craved it. It simply wasn’t worth the risk. And Sawyer? Sawyer was all kinds of risks—and a total newbie to these things to boot.
Also, inviting Sawyer over for the express purpose of having sexual relations felt…momentous somehow. So momentous that I took shower number three of the day. A very thorough shower, the likes of which I hadn’t done since Yuto. When Sawyer rang the bell I was just toweling off, and I pulled on a pair of pants but left off a shirt. No need to play coy. We both knew where this evening was headed.
Sawyer carried in steaming containers from Pho Jasmine, a no-frills noodle joint with heady broth. He gave me an appreciative look as he set down the food, one that made me nervous I was about to be his main course. My pulse gave a little thrum. Okay, maybe more excited than nervous, not that I’d ever let on to the excitement. Yuto had trained me out of such impulses if I’d ever had them to begin with—showing too much anticipation with him had inevitably resulted in my getting the opposite of what I’d hoped for.
“Can I ask you something?” Sawyer said as we dished up the food into my wide white bowls, which were perfect for pho.
I had a feeling what his line of questioning was going to be, but I still nodded.
“You weren’t a virgin last night. But I’ve never seen—or heard—about you with anyone. Who was he?”
“Who was who?” The condiments came in a plastic bag, which was a bit unhygienic for sharing, so I arranged the bean sprouts and herbs and such on a platter.
“The guy who taught you what you like in bed? The…kink master?”
“The kink master?” I laughed as I finally was satisfied with the arrangement of the food and took a seat next to him at my breakfast bar. “There was an older gentleman. An adviser to the museum sciences program—”
“Your professor?” Sawyer’s jaw dropped open.
“No, not a professor. An administrator at…a local museum. I did an internship there and he took…an interest.”
“And he was kinky?”
“I’m not a fan of that word, but yes, he had…interests that he shared with me.”
“Were you…” Sawyer made a vague gesture with his chopsticks. “I don’t know…in love or whatever with him?”
“In love,” I scoffed, even though I very much had been infatuated, with a stupid kind of devotion. “It wasn’t that type of arrangement. It was simply advantageous while I finished my education for us to…associate.”
“Associate. That’s going to be my new high-class way of saying fucking from now on.”
“You must not want to kiss me very badly,” I observed as I watched him douse his food with chili sauce.
“I brought mints.” He winked at me. “So this guy, was he into dungeons and shibari and the whole BDSM thing?”
“Slow down,” I ordered. “You really need to curate your Internet searching more. Yes, he was into the local BDSM scene in Baltimore, but I am not into any such trappings as parties or sex rooms or the like.”
“God forbid you go to a party.” Another devious wink from Sawyer. “So your main kink, then, is the orgasm denial? And maybe being tied up?” He looked so hopeful on the last bit that I had to laugh.
“A better question, Sawyer, is what your kinks are. Do you want to tie someone up?”
“I didn’t think I did before you seemed open to the idea. I think I have a Hollis kink. You mention something and I instantly want to do it…with you.”
My cheeks heated at his words. He was sweet. Too sweet. And I hadn’t ever talked this frankly with someone about my desires. Yuto had always seemed to have the road map to our encounters, and anyone since him hadn’t been around long enough to sniff out my true desires. Somehow putting a label on things made them extra dirty. Still, though, I needed to teach Sawyer how to play safe for the next time he tried this on.
An image of Sawyer binding the hands of some faceless young thing on his knees made me near homicidal. This was why us sleeping together was such a bad idea. Never again would I be able to be civil to any new friends he brought around without also wondering if he was fucking them.
“Well, that’s a good starting point, to want to do what turns the other person on.” I nodded, keeping my tone academic. “Always ask, especially before you tie them up. Don’t just guess what the other person’s limits are—”
“Hols. I don’t want a lecture on kink. Tell me about you.”
“I like being tied up,” I said softly to my soup bowl. “There are different ways to be restrained—but yes, shibari is one that…interests me.”
“Handcuffs?” Sawyer looked ready to run out for some if I nodded.
“I’m not into handcuffs or metal restraints as much.”
“Why am I not surprised to hear that you have a natural fibers fetish?” Sawyer laughed. “So silk, cotton, that sort of thing? What about leather?”
I nodded. “Leather has its appeal.”
“Tell me what you like when you’re tied up. Or, knowing you, you’ve got
a list of things you don’t like.”
“Hey, I’m not that picky.”
“Yes, you are, Hols, and we all love you for it. So tell me what stuff pisses you off or takes you out of the happy zone?”
“Extreme pain is a hard limit for me,” I admitted, although it was a limit Yuto had leaned up against fairly often. “I like…being teased. I don’t like being humiliated.”
“I would never humiliate you.” Sawyer looked so earnest that I had to reach over and pat his knee.
“I know you wouldn’t.” I realized as I said it how true it was. I did trust him, more than I had even thought.
“What else?” Sawyer’s eyes narrowed, as if he was mentally taking notes on all this. He was concentrating so hard that his whipping out his notebook wouldn’t have surprised me at all.
There was one more limit, one that I hated to bring up for fear it could—and it had been—used as punishment and control, but somehow I knew with him it would be honored. “When I’m bound I hate being left.”
“Oh, Hols, no. I wouldn’t just leave you there.” Sawyer’s eyes went wide and he grabbed my hand. “I want to have fun with you. That’s what this is all about right? A new way to have fun together.”
My laugh this time was a creaky thing, little used in this context. God, he was a treasure. Too bad he wasn’t mine to keep. “I think a lot of people take it a lot more seriously than that.”
“Yeah, well, a lot of people take life too seriously.” Finished eating, Sawyer stood to help me take the bowls and plate to the dishwasher. “So can we?”
“YOLO,” I said, in my best dude-bro voice, which got peals of laughter from Sawyer. I led him to the bedroom that had scarcely seen anyone other than Benedict and me. My heart sped up; again that feeling of climbing a mountain that was a little too big for me. Whatever came next, I had a feeling things—I—would never be the same.
Chapter 11
With Sawyer watching, I withdrew a slim box from the top shelf of my closet. I removed a few items and returned the box to its place before Sawyer could poke around and get all curious.
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