Slowly, Sawyer pulled Isabella onto his lap, and his hands slipped beneath her camisole nightgown and settled on her breasts.
“Princess, I’m all about more of this,” he said, kneading her breasts as their breathing became more labored. “I don’t know why you don’t want to play with me. We had so much fun before.”
“You went on a date with her,” Isabella said, her voice cracking slightly. “How could you?”
“I promise you, I didn’t know who she was, baby,” he said, his mouth reaching for her neck, leaving a trail of soft kisses. “But the thing is, first off, you made it clear you wanted nothing to do with me. Besides, I was just doing this as a favor for Gab. And when I found out who Amelie was, she and I talked about everything—”
“I don’t want to know about her. She’s probably someone who goes around stealing people’s puppies for animal research. And you shouldn’t have talked to her.”
“Bella, by the time I knew who she was, we’d already been talking,” he said. Not exactly for hours or anything, but she didn’t need to know that. “It was the polite thing to do. What she did more than a decade ago surely shouldn’t follow her around for the rest of her life.”
“What she did to me has stayed with me.” Bella started to cry a little bit. He could feel her soft sobs against his chest.
“My sweet princess,” he said, scratching her scalp gently with his fingertips. “Look at you. You are this beautiful, bright, much-loved woman of the world. You don’t have to let something that happened to you a lifetime ago define you.”
“Yeah, but she’s mean.”
“She was mean,” he said. “But she’s a different person now. I promise you, I wouldn’t lie to you about this.” He shifted her so that she was sideways on his lap, and he used his fingertips to pull her chin toward him. “Isabella, may I kiss you?”
She looked at him, her blue eyes boring into his. She looked confused. “I don’t know,” she said, shaking her head.
“Then why don’t I help you make up your mind?”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Sawyer pulled her toward him as his lips settled over her mouth. He held them still on hers for a moment, finally drawing his tongue across her lips, trying to gain entry into that mouth he’d been fantasizing about for the past week. At first, Isabella resisted, but it was only a matter of time before she caved.
Sawyer took advantage of her momentary lapse in willfulness. While their tongues tangled and he kept one arm securely wrapped around her holding her tightly, he used his other hand to trail up those long, smooth legs, pressing them apart with the deftness that comes with someone who works with his hands. Isabella gasped as his fingers slid beneath the leg of her panties and he began to stroke her.
“Ah, God, Princess. You’re so wet—I know you want this as much as I do,” he said, easily sliding his fingers there as she gasped with pleasure. She moaned into his mouth, the vibration so sexy and encouraging, and he slowly worked two fingers in and out of her, picking up the pace as she shifted her body, spreading her legs wider, inviting him in. They were both panting wildly, and he released her mouth, working his way down her throat, stroking his tongue along the sensitive base of her neck, then using his tongue to nudge down the edge of her cami, finally settling on one pink nipple.
“Sawyer,” she moaned too loudly as he gently nipped at her while accelerating the pace of his fingers thrusting into her wet center.
“Shhhh, Princess,” he said, reminding her of where they were, which was all it took to bring Isabella back to reality.
~*~
Isabella alternated between fury and horny as she battled in her mind whether she was going to be a willing participant or call a halt to it all before things got out of hand. But speaking of hands, God, his hands did magical things to her as he worked her closer to climax. Her own body was betraying her stubborn will by encouraging him, her legs opening to his efforts. It was only when Sawyer tried to quiet her moans that she regained some of her senses. Some of them... Not that she wanted to put a stop to things now, but she wanted it to be on her terms.
Still seated sideways on Sawyer’s lap, Isabella pulled a leg across him so she was straddling him, trapping him against the sofa. This was going to be her show now. She bore down on him, grinding her pelvis against his swollen cock, and now it was Sawyer’s turn to moan as she rubbed herself against him, reveling in the feel of him getting even harder beneath her ministrations.
Isabella wanted to leave her mark on him, like a tigress in heat, still angry, but so overcome by some strange animal lust. She pressed her mouth to his and kissed him hard, not even caring that his whiskers scraped her face. She was too busy getting lost in the incredible feeling of his erection, still layers of stubborn fabric away, pressed in that perfect way against her center.
Sawyer reached between them, slipping his fingers beneath her panties and rubbing along her wetness, increasing the sensation as she climbed closer. Bella let go of his mouth and planted her teeth in the sensitive spot on the side of his neck, telling him in no uncertain terms that she was in charge. Then she rose up and pressed her exposed breast to his lips, encouraging him to latch on, but it wasn’t enough, so she reached down and quickly undid his belt, unzipped his pants, shifting his underwear down and pulling hers out of the way just enough to allow access as she guided his cock into her body. Isabella was mad with the need to call the shots, and she began to thrust up and down on Sawyer, riding him like a horse, her breath coming fast, their skin slick with perspiration as their bodies met with each thrust.
“Oh, fuck, Sawyer,” she called out as she finally climaxed, bucking against him, drawing out every last shuttering spasm.
~*~
Sawyer was certain he’d died and gone to heaven. In a million years he didn’t think he’d be able to persuade Isabella to speak to him, let alone this. And by this, he didn’t mean a little date-night cuddling but all-out, full-tilt, balls-to-the-wall make-up sex that made it all the more of an erotic experience. It was like having sex with a wild animal. When Isabella clamped down on his neck while she was rubbing herself on his aching cock, he thought he’d lose it right there and then. All it took was the feeling of her body clutching his, the tight pull of her orgasm as it coaxed his own from him, for him to go over the top, pumping his hips toward her warm, welcoming center until he stilled, groaning loudly with his release. He had no idea how he’d top this one, be he knew he was going to have to try, however best he could.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
What was it about dawn that made her want to kick herself for being such a weak-willed idiot, Bella wondered as she woke to find Sawyer spooning against her naked self. It was going to be that much harder to extricate herself with their bodies skin-to-skin like this. But she was going to have to figure out a way.
At some point in the middle of the night, they’d slipped away to a spare bedroom in another wing of the house—no way did Bella want to be found sweaty and reeking of sex in the study. She would never live that down, especially if Edouardo was the one who happened upon her. And heaven help her if Clem’s brother Darcy—her brother Adrian’s best friend—found her. Her siblings would tease her mercilessly about this for the rest of her life. They’d double down on it, knowing whom she’d been found with after they all bore witness to her meltdown over the guy at her birthday party.
And yet she was having a harder and harder time rationalizing what it was she found so objectionable about Sawyer. After all, he clearly had feelings for her. No man in his right mind would otherwise pursue someone who’d hurled the kind of invectives she’d lobbed at the man. So he had stamina in that regard. Not to mention stamina in another regard: Sawyer could keep going like a battery-powered—oh, no, she wasn’t going anywhere near that comparison, all things considered. Anyhow, suffice it to say it was not out of his range to get that thing of his back in working order within the hour. Which gave them a lot of hours to work with before they both finally passed ou
t from exhaustion.
The thing is, why couldn’t she just enjoy a little clandestine fun with this guy? Why would anyone need to know? They had crazy-intense chemistry, there was no denying that. And according to her less-than-scientific calculations, great chemistry equals un-freaking-believable sex. Because at this point they’d done it enough times for her to know the man knew what to do to pleasure a woman.
Which left her in a quandary about what to do now. She still wanted to throttle him for that little tête-à-tête with the evil she-devil from her past. But then again, maybe he sorta made up for it in deeds last night. Dirty, dirty deeds, indeed.
Isabella tried to close her eyes and get back to sleep, tried to convince herself to just deal with it all in the morning. But then she started projecting to that time when they both would wake up in Clementine’s guest quarters, with the awkward truth that daylight shines on these sorts of situations, and then they’d have to somehow slink out of there unnoticed—her mother was an early riser, too, dammit—and it was getting too complicated and just not what she was up for dealing with. Besides, she had an official event scheduled at a hospital that morning. She had to get the hell out of there, stat.
~*~
Sawyer was feeling a little like Bill Murray in Groundhog Day, minus Sonny and Cher singing “I Got You Babe.” Every time he started to gain confidence that this time he was able to persuade Isabella that she had good reason to stick around a little while longer, the damned woman bolted, fast and furious. She was a sneaky little mouse able to escape every trap laid for her. If he didn’t know better, he’d start to think she didn’t like him. But surely, that wasn’t the case. No one could be so passionate and totally connected as she was without feeling something other than hatred, right? He was sticking to that assumption. The question was, how would he ever get her to see the light?
Though his more immediate problem was how to get out of this house undiscovered, with his sex-rumpled clothes and hair and no woman to even help excuse why on earth he’d be waking up there in the first place. He didn’t even know Mrs. Clementine, or whatever she was called. Not like he could show up in the kitchen and tuck into one of her warm, hearty breakfasts. If she even made warm, hearty breakfasts.
He got dressed, picked up his shoes, dug his keys out of his pocket, and decided to take the back staircase up, hoping that wouldn’t put him dead center in public view. It wasn’t until he was near the landing that he heard a tea kettle start to whistle, and he realized these stairs led directly into the kitchen.
Crap, this was going to get tricky.
He inched his way around the corner, hoping against hope that he’d be able to slip by unnoticed by whoever was boiling water at o’dark-thirty as it was. Who gets up this early? He realized too late he was going to have to cut across the kitchen and dart out the back door if he was to make it. Which would have been a great plan, until some yappy white dog came hurtling toward him at full tilt, complete with that shrill, ear-piercing bark that was the reason he wasn’t a yappy dog kinda guy. He dropped his shoes, hoping the distraction would keep the dog from clamping its teeth into his calf, but instead the dog started jumping on his leg, excitedly trying to hump it. Sawyer tried to see the irony: his night ended in this very way with the woman of his dreams (for the most part), yet his day had begun with the only thing wanting to get it on with him—a mangy mutt. Although by the fluffy looks of the little beast, it likely wasn’t much of a mutt. Either way, one chomp from those teeth and Sawyer would be headed to the Royal Hospital, like it or not.
Chapter Thirty
“Well, hello there,” a stunning older woman with a silver bob and pewter-gray eyes, dressed in a bright yellow shirtdress as if ready to attend a ladies’ luncheon said to him. “Might I be of assistance?” She handed him his shoes back.
Sawyer hemmed and hawed as he tried to figure out how to extricate himself from this mess without coming across as a creeper or a complete boob. While trying to get the horny dog off of his ankle.
“Freddo, sit,” the woman said and the dog detached himself immediately from Sawyer’s limb as the woman handed him a cookie.
“So I know you don’t belong to Clementine, as she’s spoken for,” the woman said. “And I’m fairly certain Edouardo’s not that way. Which leads me to wonder how it is I have a man sneaking out of my guest quarters at this early hour.”
“I’m so very sorry, ma’am,” Sawyer said. “This isn’t how it appears.”
She raised an eyebrow at him. “It never is.”
“I can explain everything,” he said. “Although it’s a very long story. Might be easier if I just say that your daughter is really quite a lovely young woman and she was trying to help me out and things got complicated and I had to stay the night.”
The woman smiled a coy smile. “Well, let me think about this,” she said, holding up her hands to count. “You can’t be with Clementine because she’s with Sebastian. And of course, Pippa’s with Topher, so that eliminates that one. Gabriella? If I’m not mistaken, she was supposed to be out on a date with Edouardo last night—come to think of it, I don’t think I heard him come in last night. So really, that would leave Isabella as the odd man out. Odd girl, as it were. Does that mean she’ll be sneaking out next?”
Sawyer blushed. “I’m sorry, ma’am, allow me to explain better,” he said. “My name is Sawyer Patterson. I’m a friend of Clementine’s. Well, we did some business together. And then through Clementine, I sort of met Isabella. And sometimes Isabella and I are, well, I don’t even know what we are, but I’m really very sorry to have put you out like this.”
She started to laugh. “I’m Charlotte Squires-Thornton, Clementine’s mother.”
“Mrs. Thornton—”
“Lady Charlotte works,” she said with a broad smile.
Sawyer turned even redder. “Of course. So rude of me not to have known that.” What’s the son of vehement antiroyalists to do? “Lady Charlotte, it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance. Your daughter didn’t tell me how beautiful her mother was.” Now he was getting his charm on. Maybe he’d get out of here without a scratch after all.
Except who would choose that very moment to come lumbering into the kitchen but Edouardo.
“What the hell are you doing here?” he said.
His mother cuffed him. “That was rude. Sawyer is our houseguest.”
Edouardo shrugged. “All I know is any time there was ever a guy staying over here it was because he was sneaking out after having been with Clementine or one of her friends. I’m not sure who it was you ended up with but from what Gabriella told me, you started the night with one of hers.” He raised an eyebrow accusingly.
Well, now, this wouldn’t add to his reputation, would it?
“It’s a long story,” Lady Charlotte said. “Can I get you a cup of tea?” she asked Sawyer.
“No, no, thank you so very much,” he said. “I really need to be going. But, uh, Edouardo, does your early morning return home mean things went well with you and Gabriella last night?”
Edouardo threw him a glare, but Sawyer was happy to put the onus back on him.
“It got late. It was easier to stay in town,” Edouardo said, looking guiltily at his mother.
“So things are heating up with you and Gabriella, dear?” his mother said.
Edouardo grunted. “Fine.”
She poured a cup of tea and handed it to Sawyer despite his protestations.
“So tell me about you and Isabella,” she said, offering him a seat.
Sawyer winced. The last thing he needed was to have to spill his guts to this woman. Hell, at this point, who knew who was supposed to what? All he knew is he needed to get out of here, pronto. He stood, not realizing he was placing his foot right on Freddo’s tail. The dog jumped up and turned around and sank his teeth into Sawyer’s ankle, causing him to wail in pain.
“Oh, my God, Freddo, you bad, bad dog,” Lady Charlotte said, reaching for the dog and immediately sticking
him in the food pantry so that she could get a look at Sawyer’s wounds. “Son, I am so very sorry about this.” She pulled down his sock and saw that the bite had indeed broken skin.
“It’s nothing, really,” Sawyer said, trying to stand but collapsing back onto the chair.
“Oh, Sawyer, we need to get this looked at,” she said. “Dog bites can get easily infected. I’ll get my purse and call the driver to get us to the hospital.”
“No, no, really, I’m fine,” he said, begging off.
“Mum, let me,” Edouardo said. “I’ll take him into town in his car and you can send the driver for me later. No need for you to do this.”
His mother paced back and forth, her hand to her forehead. “I’m so very sorry about this. Freddo’s never done anything like this before. You’re sure you’ll be all right with just Edouardo?”
“Absolutely. No need to put you out—It’s all my fault,” Sawyer said. “I stepped on his tail, it’s only natural that he’d defend himself.”
“We’ll take care of all the expenses. Let’s get you out to the car and on your way, before the hospital gets crowded. Otherwise, you’ll be waiting there all day. Edouardo, help the man to his car. And you’ll call and let me know how you are?”
Sawyer limped, assisted by Edouardo, who was no doubt going to grill him the whole drive in. This was no way to start the day.
Chapter Thirty-One
Traffic going to the hospital was heavy. Apparently, there was some royal visit scheduled in an hour, so children and their parents were lined up along the roadside to get a glimpse of whoever it was.
Sawyer couldn’t care less—he just wanted to get some damned pain meds to stop the throbbing from that bloody damned bite. Who knew such a little yappy dog could pack such a powerful punch? And here they were in gridlock just to get to the place.
Throne for a Loop Page 10