Leather and Lace

by Jessie Evans

  Sawyer glided in and out, stroking a little deeper each time until Mia was taking all of him. Until there was nothing but Sawyer, and the smell of their aroused bodies mingling in the air, and the taste of his lips, and the way he made her dizzy with pleasure. Gradually, the lazy rhythm they’d established grew more urgent, until his thrusts came faster, deeper, and they strained together, climbing higher and higher, the conclusion of each thrust sending a shockwave of pleasure spreading from Mia’s swollen clit to every inch of her body. She locked her legs around Sawyer’s hips and ground into him, breath coming in desperate pants as she fought her way closer to the release that hovered, just barely out of reach.

  “Oh, God,” she moaned, bucking into him, feeling like she would die if anticipation didn’t become satisfaction soon. “Please, Sawyer, please!”

  “Yes,” Sawyer encouraged, his fingers digging into the curve of her bottom, urging her more tightly against him with each thrust. “Come for me, Mia. I want to watch your face when you come. Come on my cock, baby. Come for me.”

  The mixture of the course words and the tenderness in his voice were all it took to tip her over the edge. Her back arched and she came, gasping for air, calling his name, clinging to his shoulders as her pussy clamped down hard around his cock, and tremors of pure and utter bliss rocked her to her core, shattering every preconceived notion she’d had about sex to pieces.

  This was so much more than getting off. This was power and submission, all mixed up together. This was her soul brushing against Sawyer’s, singing the same sweet, perfect song as they gave each other the gift of passion and abandon, a moment of perfection amidst all the heartbreak and disappointment in life. It was beautiful, sacred, and by the time Sawyer cried out and his cock began to jerk and pulse inside her, Mia was certain she’d made an epic mistake.

  How was she going to keep her heart locked away when it already felt like it had tumbled out of her chest to beat—raw and vulnerable—in this man’s calloused hands?

  “God, Mia,” he said, breath coming fast against her skin as he pressed a kiss to her shoulder. “You’re so fucking beautiful. I love making you come.”

  Mia swallowed hard, shocked to find his words sent a shiver of arousal spreading across her skin, less than a full minute after she’d come so hard she was still seeing fuzzy black stars dancing around Sawyer’s handsome face.

  This man did something to her, something crazy, wonderful, and scary as hell.

  “You okay?” he asked, pulling back to meet her gaze.

  Mia nodded, but still didn’t speak. She didn’t know what to say, how to express all the things she was feeling, or if she should even try. She and Sawyer had agreed to keep things between them light, easy. But she hadn’t expected that she would feel this close to him, or want to get even closer.

  “You sure?” His eyes narrowed.

  Mia forced a smile. “Totally.”

  Sawyer nodded, but it was obvious he smelled a lie. “Let me get something to clean you up, and we can talk,” he said, withdrawing from her body and turning to stride across the room toward the bathroom in the hall.

  Mia watched him go, torn between enjoying the view of his rock hard ass, and sinking into the strangely bereft, abandoned feeling that followed in the wake of their severed connection. She rolled on her side, drawing her knees into her belly and hugging them to her chest, doing her best to pull herself together before Sawyer returned.

  But he was back in less than a minute, sliding into the bed, and, with a tenderness that made her heart hurt, wiping the stickiness from between her thighs with a damp rag before lying down behind her, curling his body around hers. The feel of his lightly furred chest against her shoulder blades and his softened erection against her thigh sent a jolt of arousal and nervousness coursing through her, making her feel even more off balance than she had before.

  “When I was a kid, my dad belonged to a motorcycle club in Louisiana. It was more like a gang, really, but they called it a club.” The words were the last thing she expected to come out of his mouth. “They made good money trafficking in illegal weapons, drugs, and whatever other black market stuff they could get their hands on. My dad was pretty high up in the ranks and was getting a good cut, but he got greedy. He started skimming from the drug shipments and selling through his own channels.”

  Sawyer wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her closer. “It wasn’t long before the president of the club found out. Dad wasn’t nearly as smart as he thought he was, and didn’t cover his tracks. So…the president got all the patch holders together to ride out to our place to make an example of my dad, make sure the rest of the members knew that kind of shit wasn’t going to fly. I was hiding in the garage behind the house, inside the engine bay of an old Chevy my dad was fixing up. I was looking out through the grill when Dad’s buddies came through, but I stayed quiet and they didn’t find me.”

  “What happened to your dad?” Mia asked softly, sensing that this bedtime story wasn’t going to have a happy ending.

  Sawyer sighed. “I don’t know who they killed first—my dad or my sister—but I found Sarah first. She was facedown in the dirt, in the middle of the gravel road leading to our neighbor’s house. They’d shot her in the back while she was trying to go for help.”

  “Oh my God.” Mia turned in his arms, bringing her hands to cup his face. “How old was she? How old were you?”

  Sawyer ran his fingers down her ribs to rest on the curve of her hip. “I was eight. Sarah was almost fourteen.”

  Mia’s brows drew together. “God, I’m so sorry, Sawyer. I know that doesn’t make it any better, but I am. So sorry.”

  “It’s okay. I mean, it’s not, but I’m okay now. I really am.” He turned his head, kissing the palm of her hand before he continued. “But I wasn’t for a long time. Even after I moved to Wyoming to live with my granddad. He and my dad didn’t get along, so I’d never met him before, but he was great to me. All the ranch hands treated me like family, and Sue, the bunkhouse cook, came in to read me a bedtime story every night. But it took a long time for me to trust people. I wouldn’t let anyone get close. I couldn’t let down my guard, even when I wanted to. Even when I started to try, I was just too damned scared.”

  Mia’s ribs tightened and her tongue felt tight, coiled at the back of her throat, as she suddenly understood why he’d told her this story. “But sometimes it’s best not to let down your guard. Especially when you’re supposed to be keeping things casual. You know?”

  “Fuck casual,” Sawyer said with a heat that made her eyes widen. “I haven’t felt the way I feel when I’m with you in longer than I can remember, Mia. Hell, maybe I’ve never felt it.” He paused, trapping her chin with his fingers, holding her prisoner when she tried to look away. “I know it wasn’t my first time, but tonight was special. You’re special, and when you look at me…” He shook his head. “I don’t know how to describe what you do to me, but I know I don’t want to hold you at a distance, and I don’t want to miss out on the right woman because the wrong one made me gun shy.”

  Mia blinked, not sure what to make of the intensity in his gaze. A part of her was relieved that he felt the connection between them, too, and that part wanted to reach for him and hold on tight. But the other part of her kept remembering her first date with Paul, the way she’d felt like she was going to drown in the force of the pull between them, and how willingly she’d let herself be sucked under, never imagining how hard it would be to break free once she’d made herself vulnerable to a man who saw no difference between love and possession.

  But Sawyer wasn’t Paul. When she looked into his eyes, she didn’t feel like she was drowning. She felt like she was breathing fresh air for the first time in months, and she couldn’t imagine going back into the close, stifling world she’d inhabited before Sawyer swept into her life.

  This was scary, but Sawyer was right. It would be stupid to keep pushing the right man away because the wrong man had left her shattered
and afraid. She didn’t want to be broken anymore, and she was sick to death of letting Paul haunt her. If Sawyer could put the nightmare he’d lived through as a child behind him, then she could do the same.

  “Okay,” she said, throat tight as she cupped his cheek in her hand, mirroring his caress. “Fuck casual, but I’m not moving to Wyoming. If you don’t get the job, we’ll just have to do this long distance.”

  Sawyer grinned. “What do you mean if I don’t get the job? I’m going to get it.”

  “Oh yeah?” Mia lifted an eyebrow. “Does my gram know the decision has been made?”

  “Not yet, but she will.” Sawyer slipped his arm around her waist, pulling her closer, until his thickening erection pressed against her belly and Mia’s pulse began to beat in low, secret places. “When I put my mind to it, I’m pretty good at getting what I want.”

  Mia grinned as she slipped a hand between their bodies, stroking Sawyer’s cock. “Is that right? And what do you want right now, Mr. Kane?”

  Sawyer groaned, a hungry sound that made Mia feel powerful and giddy all at the same time.

  “I think you have a pretty good idea, Ms. Sherman,” he said, before adding in a softer voice. “But I don’t want to hurt you. Maybe we should give it a rest until tomorrow night?”

  “I’ll let you know when I need a rest, cowboy.” Mia shoved at his shoulders, rolling him over and straddling him in one smooth movement.

  In five minutes, they were both breathing faster. In ten, Sawyer was helping guide her hips as she took him inside her again, the soreness and discomfort vanishing from her awareness as she began to ride him and passion swelled between them. In fifteen minutes, Mia was calling out Sawyer’s name as she came with his fingers digging into her ass and his sinful mouth on her breasts and her heart soaring because it felt so damned good to be naked with this man.

  Almost as good as it felt to fall asleep cradled against him, and sleep the night through without a whisper of fear, only satisfaction and the feeling deep in her bones that she and Sawyer had both found their safe harbor, right there in each other’s arms.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  One Week Later

  “It’s highway robbery! But I don’t see that we have a choice but to hire him.” Gram stalked back and forth across the western side of Mia’s parents’ wraparound porch, jabbing at Sawyer’s proposed budget with her crooked right finger, the one she’d broken during the last batch of ghost town renovations and never bothered to have properly set. “Man’s got us over a barrel. With a dead body at the San Antonio morgue, and the police taking their sweet time identifying the thing, we need to make sure Mr. Kane has a reason to keep quiet.”

  “Gram, I told you, Sawyer promised he wouldn’t say a word about the body,” Mia said, wishing her gram would sit down beside her on the porch swing.

  All the pacing was making her even more nervous. She’d known Sawyer’s budget was going to give Gram fits, but she trusted that he was giving them a fair bid, and she really, really didn’t want to watch Sawyer pack his bags tomorrow morning.

  This past week together had been…amazing. Mia had never been so sexually satisfied in her life, and she couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so happy. Happy in an uncomplicated, free, and easy way that had her smiling so often her jaw ached when she went to bed at night, but she wasn’t about to complain. She’d gladly suffer from chronic TMJ if it meant Sawyer could stay in town for a few more months. He was quickly becoming more than a safe harbor, more than a friend, or even a lover. She was afraid to put into words what she felt for him—it was too soon, and she was determined not to rush things—but she knew she wanted more time, more happiness.

  More Sawyer.

  “And you trust him,” Gram said, shaking her head, making no effort to hide the fact that she thought Mia must have misplaced her common sense.

  “I do,” Mia said. “He’s a good guy. A great guy, and I believe he’ll keep his promise, whether he gets the job or not.”

  “You believe him because you’re sleeping with him,” Gram said with a snort.

  Mia’s eyes widened and her cheeks began to flame, but before she could figure out what to say, Gram barreled on.

  “Don’t bother trying to deny it. I saw the sappy looks during dinner, and the footsy under the table.” Gram rolled her eyes. “I may be old, but my eyesight is still just fine, Amelia Louise.”

  Mia shrugged, ignoring the burning in her cheeks. “Say what you want, Gram, but I think the fact that we’re…together is a pretty strong endorsement of what I think of Sawyer’s character. I trust him, and I know he wants to stay in Lonesome Point for the summer. If he could have given you a lower bid, he would have.”

  “Well I…” Gram pressed her lips together, turning her mouth into a slash that slanted across her finely wrinkled face. “Never mind. I know when to hold my tongue.”

  “What?” Mia asked. “Just spit it out, Gram.”

  Gram caught one of her silver curls around her finger and tugged. It was a nervous habit, one Mia loved. It made her Gram seem younger than her nearly seventy years. Gram was a pixie of a person, four inches and a couple dozen pounds lighter than Mia, but she was a powerhouse who rarely hesitated to say what she thought. The fact that she was trying to censor herself should have given Mia a clue that she wasn’t going to like what Gram had to say.

  “I just think you should be careful, and don’t jump into anything too fast. We all saw what happened the last time you fell in love. Seems to me you’d be better off taking things slow, especially with a man built like that one. He could snap you in two with his bare hands.”

  Mia sat up straighter, surprised to feel anger, not shame, building inside her. “Sawyer is nothing like Paul. He’s a good, honest man, an amazing person, and he’s done nothing to deserve being talked about like he’s a monster. Hire him or don’t hire him, it’s up to you, but be nice. And be fair. Sawyer deserves that much.”

  Something sparked in Gram’s eyes, but instead of the fight Mia was expecting, Gram only nodded, folded the budget paperwork, and tucked it under her arm. “All right, then. That’s good enough for me.” She looked up, staring at something over Mia’s shoulder. “You’re hired, Mr. Kane. But you should know raising this kind of money is going to be a full time job for everyone in this family.”

  Mia turned, her cheeks heating again when she saw Sawyer shutting the living room door behind him and stepping out onto the porch, an unreadable expression in his eyes. They’d said their share of sweet things to each other the past week, but usually while they were naked, and never in front of other people. The fact that he’d heard her singing his praises to her gram was embarrassing, but not as embarrassing as the next words that came out of Gram’s mouth.

  “You’re going to have to work hard to fit in time for hanky-panky with my granddaughter, because I’m putting Mia in charge of the fundraising committee.” Gram leaned over the swing to kiss Mia’s head before she headed toward the door. “Start thinking big money, Amelia Louise. I expect another fifty grand in the restoration fund before August first.”

  Mia’s eyes bulged. “Fifty grand? Gram, I—”

  “Make it work,” Gram said, breezing away with a wave of her hand. “You’re the one who went to business school. I’ll raise my fifty grand through the usual sources, so think outside the box, sugar. You’ll need more than a DAR luncheon for this one.”

  Gram disappeared into the house, patting Sawyer almost affectionately on the arm as she slipped through the door behind him. Mia wasn’t sure which was more jarring—being told she was in charge of raising fifty-thousand dollars in less than two months, or seeing her gram actually approving of someone Mia was dating. That hadn’t happened since—

  “Ever,” Mia said aloud, shaking her head numbly as Sawyer eased onto the swing beside her.

  “What’s that?” Sawyer rested a hand on her knee with an easy familiarity that banished her moment of nerves. Obviously Sawyer was pleased that she’
d stood up for him, and excited to be staying in Lonesome Point if the sparkle in his hazel eyes was anything to judge by.

  Mia sighed and scooted closer to Sawyer, not caring that it was too hot outside for snuggling. “I just realized—Gram’s never liked any of my boyfriends. Not that I had that many growing up, but the few I did bring home, she didn’t care for.”

  Sawyer grinned. “I guess she knows quality when she sees it.”

  Mia laughed. “We’ll see. If I don’t get an invite to brunch tomorrow, we’ll know you’ve won her over for real.”

  He lifted a quizzical brow, and tipped his Stetson further back on his head.

  “Every time she met one of my old boyfriends, she’d take me out for brunch the next day,” Mia explained. “Inevitably, the conversation came around to the Sherman Family Curse, and why it was a good idea to keep my distance from arrogant young men and, it was inferred, probably men in general.”

  Sawyer’s smile slipped. “Speaking of curses, I was doing some reading after you went to bed last night. I thought I’d see if Amelia made any mention of the curse in her journals.”

  “Oh?” Mia asked, throat suddenly tight.

  She shouldn’t have mentioned the stupid curse, not even in a joking way. She and Sawyer had discussed a lot of personal stuff, but so far, Mia had managed to steer clear of two major topics—how things had ended with Paul, and how much stock she put in the Sherman Family Curse. The first, she simply wasn’t ready to revisit. She was having too much fun with Sawyer to ruin even a moment of their time together talking about a man she wanted to forget. The second, she didn’t want to face, or to admit to Sawyer that a tiny part of her—okay, maybe a bigger than tiny part—did believe in the curse. It believed in it so much she wasn’t sure she’d ever muster up the courage to get married. Even if there was a fraction of a chance that the legend was real, that was too much to risk the life of a man she loved enough to marry.

  The thought of say, Sawyer, for example, dying on their wedding night because he was crazy enough to want to marry her, made her stomach feel like it was stuffed full of the old-fashioned cannon balls piled in a pyramid near the entrance to Old Town.