The noises he makes are just as hot. With one hand pulling my hair, another massaging my clit, he rams me from behind. His mouth is at my ear, telling me how fucking hot I am. That boy is the orgasm whisperer.
“Shit, if I knew you could fuck like that, I would’ve said something sooner,” I joke afterward, sprawled out on top of him as I try to catch my breath.
I get up to take a shower. Once I’m out, he goes in to take his. I curl up on my bed and doze until he comes out all wet and manly looking. If we had more time, I’d be game for another round. He’s quiet while he gets dressed. I do not attempt to hide the fact that I’m watching him.
It’s weird that he’s so quiet, though. Normally, he’d be making fun of me or something. “Everything cool?”
He scratches the back of his head. “I’m processing what we just did.”
“I know. We can’t even blame it on having too much to drink,” I hedge, hoping he doesn’t regret it.
“So what do we blame it on?” He sounds annoyed.
“Our combined overall yumminess,” I give him a saucy wink and am relieved when he smiles.
Sex has never been a big deal to me. I know plenty of people hung up on the notion that you have to be in love to make love. More power to them. I like to fuck. They would probably call me a slut. I don’t really care. There isn’t a lot of drama in my life. I don’t believe in cheating, so if a guy I think is hot has a girlfriend, I don’t hit on him. If I’m getting busy with someone on a regular basis and find myself interested in someone else, I tell him. I think as long as you stay honest in your relationships with people that you’re going to be fine.
My only concern at this point is my relationship with him being different. I don’t want that. I just want him to keep being my friend with a little something-something on the side. I hate how awkward the silence feels as we pack. I go to grab my bag, but he stops me, carrying it for me. He’s never done that before.
“Don’t act different, Jar,” I fume, tugging my bag from his grasp. “Just because we had sex doesn’t mean I can’t carry my own shit.”
“No matter what you say or want, it’s gonna be different,” he says, his hand on the doorknob.
“But why?” I argue.
“’Cause all I can think about now is being inside you.” He pulls open the door and walks out into the hall.
I watch, mouth open, as the door slowly closes between us. Shit. Now all I can think about is him inside me. I squeeze my thighs together and shake my head. Keep it in your pants, Sawyer. When I manage to open the door and make it into the hallway, I kick myself for not letting him carry my bag. It’s kind of heavy. When I make it to the main entrance, I see his suitcase by the door and set mine next to it. I’m about to go off in search of him when I run into Will’s mom.
“You weren’t going to leave without saying goodbye?” she asks, pulling me into a hug.
“No, Mama Price. I would never do that.” I tilt my head so it rests on her shoulder.
“I told Sarah you need to move closer. You could always live with me,” she adds hopefully.
“I promise to visit a lot. Trust me. You’ll be sick of me.” I watch Jared approach us with Brian by his side. “I’m just not done with Denver yet.”
She playfully tugs my hair. “Back to pink?”
I shrug. It was red a few months back, and the pink is now more an under color than all over. “What color should I do next?”
She shakes her head. “I like the blonde with the pink. You should keep it like this.”
I kiss her cheek. “Sounds like a plan. How was Italy?”
She gets a faraway look in her eyes. “Belissimo.”
I narrow mine at her. “Did you get laid?”
Will’s mom has come a long way from the woman I met this past summer. She was a shell; coiled in on herself and holding on to grief so tightly she pushed everyone else away. She swats my arm and laughs before kissing my forehead and saying she’ll never tell. I so have to talk to Will. His mama got lucky on vacation.
Before, she barely spoke and she wouldn’t even leave her house when I came to stay with her. She seems so different now, happy. I know she regrets her part in Will and Sarah’s time apart. Grief can make you do crazy things. It’s almost understandable for a woman whose daughter and husband were both taken before their time. That’s another reason why I’ll never get married or have kids. Not for me.
She waves goodbye and walks away when Brian and Jared reach me. I stare after her, grinning. Jared catches my eye, and I wonder if he thinks I’m smiling about what happened earlier. My face gets hot when I think about what he said.
He makes a face at me when I don’t stop Brian from carrying my bag to his car. I ignore him. The only reason I cared is that he hadn’t carried my bag when we got here. I didn’t want him to change just because we had sex.
“Hey!”
I turn and see Sarah jogging in my direction. I open my arms to receive her impending hug. She is happier than I’ve ever seen her. I relax in our hug, trying not to think about how much I’ll miss her face. Yeah, we’ll text and call, but it’s already different.
I find her ear. She’ll love this. “Jared and I did it after breakfast.”
She pulls back, her hands on my shoulders, mouth open. Her eyes flick to Jared’s back and then to mine again. “You’re joking.”
I smirk. I don’t joke. Well, I do, just not about sex.
Her eyes widen. “Oh, my God, you did.”
I glance over at Jared and shush her when I see he’s turned to look at us. He raises an eyebrow. Shit, he totally knows I just told her.
Her voice pulls my eyes away from him. “You need to call me the second you get home and tell me everything.”
I nod, leaning in to give her another squeeze. “I love you.”
“I love you too, babe.”
I let Jared ride up front because he has longer legs. I roll down my window to blow Sarah a kiss as we pull away.
“Everything,” she calls out one last time.
When I first met Sawyer, I was bummed she wasn’t a boy. Who wanted to spend the summer on a boat with a girl? I’m all for it now, especially after how we spent the morning. Girls were still weird back then. A boy would have been so much cooler. I had visions of playing pirates.
All the girls I knew played with dolls. I had another thing coming. The first week at sea wasn’t much fun. Sawyer cried a lot and my mom spent way more time with her than me. I was not impressed. Sure, I knew her parents died, but I had never experienced anything like that.
The second week we were on the boat, she cried less and kept following me around. It was annoying, being stuck with a girl. That all changed when I caught her playing a prank on the cook. She was so small she could sneak stuff out of the kitchen right under his nose.
I figured hers was a useful skill to have, so I recruited her. It wasn’t long before she was bossing me around. I got used to it. She always had a knack for getting me to do what she wanted. Guess some things never change in that aspect. By the end of that summer, I wouldn’t trade her for ten boys. She was the coolest girl I had ever known.
Maybe it was because she grew up on a farm. She was different from the girls back home. Nothing scared her. I almost pissed myself when a whale surfaced not far from the boat when we were on the main deck, but not Sawyer. For a minute, as she leaned over the rail, she seemed ready to jump in and swim with him.
Sometimes it bugged me that everyone liked her more than me. Something about her made everyone around her want to take care of her. I might have hated her if I hadn’t wanted to make her smile instead. That should have been my first clue.
How long have I fantasized about Sawyer Sterling? I let go of any illusions of anything ever happening between us a long time ago. I was so sure that I was permanently friend-zoned. I glance back at her. Brian’s talking about some snowboarding Xbox game, maybe skateboarding. Lawyers play Xbox? Sawyer’s eyes move from the window to mine. S
hit, I look away even though she just caught me staring at her.
I just had sex with Sawyer fucking Sterling. Hot fucking sex. All I can think about is burying myself in her again. At first, I was sure she was joking, just pulling some stupid shit to fuck with my head. She doesn’t lie, though. Even if it sucks, she says what she thinks.
She’s the coolest girl I’ve ever known. I sure as shit hope we didn’t just fuck up our friendship. I’ve learned the hard way how bad it sucks when you can’t trust someone. What if it was just a one-time thing to her? Fuck. Living with her will seriously suck ass if that’s true.
God; and all that yoga she does in the living room. It’s already hard enough to watch her do that and now that I know what her legs feel like wrapped around my waist... I don’t think I can ever idly watch her do that again.
Attempting to look casual, I glance back at her. Is she being quiet because Brian is in the car? I want to know what she’s thinking. How do I ask without sounding like a pussy? No, she started this, and I don’t want to do anything to push her away. I’ll let her make the first, er, second move. I can wait.
Awkward silence. Awesome. I glance over at Jared. Nothing better than a silent travel companion. Watching the flight attendant hit on him is fun too. You don’t care, I repeat to myself. You don’t care. Problem is, I kind of do.
“Want me to drive?”
I blink at him, realizing we’re standing at my Hummer. Guess I spaced out. “No, I’ll drive. Buckle up.”
I love my car, truck, whatever my little monster is. It makes me feel big, so I totally believe that over compensating theory. I climb in and start thinking about Jared’s truck and his package. That theory definitely doesn’t apply to him. He’s one hundred percent proportionate. The delicious ache between my thighs is reminder enough. I autopilot it home. If I speed or change lanes too often Jared doesn’t mention it. I have patience problems.
Once we’re inside, we retreat to our separate corners. The washer and dryer are closer to my room. We meet there, travel laundry in tow.
“You can go first,” he says, turning around.
“Stop right there,” I demand, dropping my basket. “This,” I gesture between the two of us, “needs to stop feeling weird. Don’t act differently. Got it?” I take a step closer to him, and he lets his mesh laundry bag fall to the ground. “You don’t have to carry my bags. You don’t have to let me go first.”
His hands lift to cradle my face. “What if I just want to take care of you?”
I snake my arm around his neck and stand on my tiptoes as I lower his mouth to mine. “I take care of myself.”
I’m lifted, turned, and pressed against the wall. His lips are confusingly soft and demanding at the same time. I push back, threading my fingers into his hair and tug hard until he groans. This, right here; this is my drug. I sense it in every single one of my pores. He wants me. I grind my hips against him.
My lips move to his ear. “I’m so wet.”
He doesn’t need any more encouragement. His lips attack mine as he carries me to my room. He pauses only long enough to pull my bag off my bed before dumping me on it.
“Have any condoms in here?”
I nod to my bedside table before shimmying out of my clothes. He chuckles at my assortment of naughtiness as he grabs one. I crawl over to him, pluck it out of his hands, and hold it in my mouth while I unfasten his jeans and free him. He tugs his shirt off over his head as I slide his jeans down his legs. His eyes are hooded as he watches me handle him. I’ve always loved cocks. There is something so foreign about them. They make me curious.
I like that a simple touch of my fingertip can make his hips jerk. He’s all man, but here I feel powerful. I palm his balls with one hand and reach up to tear open the foil packet held between my teeth. Somehow, he gets harder. The groan that escapes his lips as I roll the condom onto him excites me. I’m hoping for a repeat of this morning. With any luck, I’ll be walking funny tomorrow.
His hesitation from earlier is gone. He has no issues manhandling me. Before long, I’m facedown, ass up, getting pounded. My pillow does nothing to muffle my pleas of, “Harder, harder.”
Once we’re thoroughly fucked and the second condom is disposed of, Jared pulls me against his chest, his hands slowing trailing up and down my back. I pull away. I’m not a cuddler. Jared’s eyes follow me as I pull on a robe and walk out of my room, leaving him there, naked, in my bed.
I’m starting my laundry when he finally comes to find me. He’s pulled his jeans back on but not his shirt.
“What was that?” he asks, his brows furrowed.
My right shoulder pops up as I look over at him. “What?”
He shakes his head. “You just got up and left.”
I close the lid and turn, facing him all the way. “I figured we were finished.”
“Not even close.” He lifts me, setting me on the washer, and opens my robe.
Mission accomplished, I think, gingerly getting out of bed. I absolutely will be walking funny today. I head straight for the bathroom and fill the tub. I have aches in places I wasn’t sure had muscles. I crack the window to let some steam escape, enjoying the chill. As cold as I was in Atlanta, I welcome the chill in Colorado. There is snow on the ground. It’s supposed to be cold. I leave it open while I brush my teeth, closing it before I ease myself into the tub.
I’m about to doze off when there’s a knock on the bathroom door. “Who is it?”
Jared pops his head in.
“I could have been on the toilet,” I mumble, making no effort to cover myself.
“I heard the water.” He grins, his hands already working on the button of his jeans.
“No way.” I put my hand up, stopping him. “I need a recovery day before the next rodeo, cowboy.”
I laugh at his pout.
“All right, no sex. Can I still get in?”
I must look confused because he asks, “What?”
I rest my arms on the edge of the tub and lay my cheek on them. “Why do you want to get in if we aren’t going to have sex?”
He taps his mouth with his index finger, like he’s thinking about it. “Bubble bath with a hot naked chick is kind of a no brainer. Besides, maybe I can play with your boobs and talk you into a hand job.”
That makes me smile. I shift forward and motion for him to climb in. He undresses quickly and slides in behind me.
I settle against him and pass him my body soap. “If you’re playing with my tits, you might as well wash them.”
The rest of the week goes like that. We get comfortable, but not too comfortable. One night, I have to remind Jared he has his own bed. For a minute, I wonder if that bothers him, but he just gets dressed and pinches my nipple before going back to his room. Most days, I don’t see him until after dinner. He teaches lessons at a local ski resort in the morning and then boards the rest of the day. I’m sitting on the sofa watching TV with my laptop in my lap when he walks in.
“I ordered Chinese,” I say, looking up.
“Sweet.” He shrugs off his coat and hangs it on the back of a stool.
He makes himself a plate and walks over to sit by me. “What’re you doing?” he asks between bites.
I open my mouth for one and hold his gaze as he feeds me some sweet and sour chicken. Once I’m done chewing, I answer, “Checking flights. I have some friends staying in Fiji. They have a spare room if I want to come chill for a couple weeks.”
I open my mouth for another bite and pout when he ignores me. “What friends?”
I get up and head to the kitchen for a refill. “Remember Jase?”
“Didn’t you date him?”
I don’t look back at him while I reload my plate. “It wasn’t anything serious.”
“Have you ever been serious with anyone?” Jared mumbles. The way he says it is more a statement than a question.
“Are you annoyed at me for something?” I ask, turning to walk back to the sofa.
He sets his p
late down and takes mine from me, setting it on the coffee table. “I think we should date.”
“Shut up,” I laugh. When his face stays serious, my mouth drops. “You can’t be serious. You just got divorced. The last thing you need to do is jump into something. Besides, I’m not what you want.”
He picks his plate back up and turns to watch TV. “You don’t know what I want.”
I push at his shoulder. “Over dramatic much? I’m looking out for you, like a friend. You deserve so much more than I have to offer.”
His plate is down again and his mouth is on mine before I have a chance to react. Whatever disagreement we had is forgotten the second his hands are on me. He pulls me into his lap, his teeth on my nipple through my shirt. His hands are on me, one on my ass and the other in my hair. I fumble at his jeans, stroking him once I have them open. He stands, turning us around so my back is to the cushions and undresses me from the waist down.
Jared kneels in front of me. He puts his hands under my ass and lifts my body to his mouth. Holy fuck. I’ve never been that into foreplay. Always been a main act kind of girl, but when he goes down on me, I forget who I am. He’s above me, looking down at me. His eyes are locked on mine. All I can do is clutch at the cushions behind me, and let go. After I do let go, he slowly lowers me. I’m half on, half off the sofa. He slides a condom on while I catch my breath before pulling me the rest of the way down onto him.
His hands lift and lower me. My arms are around his neck as we kiss. I can taste myself. He slams me down harder onto his cock. Whatever pace he had tried to set before is lost. I feel it. I feel him lose control. Our lips part and I press my forehead to his as he slams me over and over again. I know what he had been trying to do. He’d tried to be soft and sweet in the beginning, but I just don’t do that.
When his motions become more frantic, his breathing becomes labored; I know he’s close. I lick his lip, suck it into my mouth, and bite it. He pushes into me hard one last time and groans against my mouth, his lip still trapped between my teeth. I smile, releasing it, and laugh. I’m still wearing my shirt, and he’s still fully dressed.
Sawyer Says Page 3