Sweet Southern Sorrow

Home > Other > Sweet Southern Sorrow > Page 10
Sweet Southern Sorrow Page 10

by Tessa Teevan


  A small tear escapes, and Sawyer leans in to kiss it away. “Relax for me, okay, babe? It’ll be worse for you if you’re tense. It’s probably going to hurt, and if I could take that away for you, I would. I’ll do whatever I can to make it good, to make the pain go away, okay? Just trust me.”

  I nod silently and take a deep breath, letting my body relax, just like he told me to do. He places a hand on the bed beside my head, using it for leverage as he repositions himself in between my legs. The tip of him slowly enters me, and I can feel the way he has to work to move in, even just a little bit. I’m slightly embarrassed when a small whimper escapes my lips, but I ignore the feeling. The thought of him inside me, that we’re finally doing this, makes my giddy and excited, and I don’t care about anything else.

  “I trust you, Sawyer. Completely,” I admit, letting that be as close as I can get to telling him the extent of my feelings for him.

  His eyes soften at my words, and I wish I could read his mind. I know mine’s running a thousand miles a minute, and my heart is racing, nervous and excited about giving myself to him in this way. His body covers mine when he leans down and places a kiss on my lips. Our chests are pressed together, and the feel of our skin-on-skin contact has me wishing he’d finally push himself all the way in.

  The slow, sensual kiss is different from any he’s ever given me, like he’s trying to convey his feelings in that one act of affection. When he pulls away, I’m overwhelmed at the look in his eyes. It’s a mixture of desire and heat coupled with devotion and tenderness. He starts to speak, and suddenly my heart’s now racing as I process his words.

  He slowly slides into me, filling me inch by painful inch, and even though he’s trying to be as gentle as possible, I feel a fire burning between my legs. They, whoever they are, weren’t lying when they said it hurts. No amount of our fooling around has prepared me for this, and I can feel the tears form in my eyes as he continues to push through my walls. When he’s all the way in, he pauses, not moving. He looks down on me with such affection, and I allow myself to take a few deep breaths, trying to get used to the feel of him.

  “I love you, Cheyenne,” he repeats, and I realize I didn’t respond to his first confession. Instead of returning the words, I say the first thing that comes to my mouth.

  “You’ve just claimed my virginity, Sawyer. No need to give me all the hearts and flowers speech to get into my pants now,” I joke, inwardly cringing the moment I say those words. The crux of it is that I’m not used to anyone loving me, and I’ve always turned it into a joke where Mama’s concerned. I guess that’s become my coping mechanism.

  His hand comes up to grip my chin, and I grimace as he begins to move in and out of me. The pain begins to subside a little more with each thrust, but it hasn’t entirely diminished. “Cheyenne, we both know I didn’t say that for any other reason than the fact that I meant it. I know it’s new for you. It’s new for me, too. I didn’t expect this to happen, but it did, and I wouldn’t change it for a thing, even if you don’t feel the same.”

  Before I can respond, he leans down and kisses my lips, slipping his tongue into my mouth to wrestle with my own. All thoughts of the past, the pain, and love trickle out of my mind as Sawyer continues to make love to me while he devours my mouth. His free hand begins to wander down my body, and his fingers toy with my nipples before he slides his hand down to rub my clit like he’s done so expertly before. He rubs me with slow, methodical circles as he continues to pump in and out of me, and as the pain begins to fade, I finally allow myself to relax, to finally join him in moving. My hands move around to his back and I gently rake my nails over his skin, causing him to shudder. A sexy confidence washes over me, and I start to move my hips along with his. His movements begin to speed up, and he slowly pulls away from my mouth.

  “You’re so tight, Cheyenne. I’m not gonna last,” he admits, a small frown forming on his face because I know he can tell I’m nowhere close, and the fact that he cares about my pleasure even more than his is just the push that I need.

  Wrapping my arms around him, I pull him down to me and press my lips against him. “I haven’t said this to any one in a long time, so I’m a little out of practice. I love you, too, city boy. Now let go and finish inside me before you break me in two,” I say, grinning up at him, letting him know it’s okay for him to get his release.

  He starts to move in and out of me faster while still trying to be as gentle as possible, and it’s not long before I can feel his cock swell and start to empty into the condom.

  “God, hearing you say you love me was more of a turn-on than anything I’ve ever experienced,” he tells me, his breath ragged as he slowly slides out of me.

  “Well, it’s true, and I plan on turning you on a lot more often from now on,” I tease him, even though I can already feel the soreness between my legs. I know it’s going to be at least a couple of days before I’ll be able to do this again.

  He grins down at me, places a kiss on my forehead, and exits the bed in order to get rid of the condom. When he comes back, he lies down beside me and his hands start exploring my body. His fingers find my clit and he begins working me over.

  “Sawyer, it’s fine. I know a woman usually doesn’t get off her first time. I wasn’t expecting to.”

  His eyebrows furrow. “You may not have gotten off with me inside you, but I’m not letting your first time happen without you experiencing pleasure.”

  I don’t think I’m going to be able to climax, but I let him continue to try his hardest. As his hand settles in between my legs, the other one kneads my breasts. He peppers kisses down my neck and over my collarbone before he travels back up and meets my mouth. I’m surprised when the throbbing between my legs turns into pleasure-filled sensations, and within minutes, I’m crying out as the extreme sensation of ultimate pleasure flows throughout my body like a thousand electric currents, and it’s the most breathtaking experience of my life. When I finally come down from my high, Sawyer’s smirking at me.

  “I’d never let the girl I love not feel pleasure after she just gave me the ultimate satisfaction,” he says, and I can’t help but feel the same satisfaction spread over my face in the widest smile.

  He wraps his arms around me, and I settle into his embrace. I’m not sure how long we lie there as he strokes my skin, whispering all of the things he wants to do with me over the course of the rest of the summer. Now that I’ve given myself to him fully, both heart and body, I know I’m going to have the hardest time leaving him, and I’m suddenly wondering just how hard it would be to transfer to Auburn.

  IT’S DARK AS CAN be when my eyes flutter open, and I have to blink a few times before they adjust. I can feel a hard chest beneath my head, and I turn to look up. The moonlight’s pouring through an open window, making it light enough so I can see Sawyer, eyes closed, and I can feel his steady, even breathing. We must’ve fallen asleep wrapped up in each other’s arms.

  I move to stretch and immediately feel a soreness between my legs, and it makes me smile. You know how you go to the gym and bust your ass, knowing that you’re going to be dreading the next day? But when the next day comes and your limbs are on fire, screaming at you, you relish in the residual feelings? That’s how I feel right now. I’d gladly spend the rest of my life sore as hell if it means I’ll have the memories of Sawyer between my legs, inside me, filling both my body and my heart completely.

  He must’ve felt me stretching, because I watch as his eyes blink open. The slow, sleepy, sexy smile that spreads over his face causes my heart to do backflips, and I’m wishing I could wake up to this sight every single day.

  “Mmmm, hey, pretty girl,” he says in a husky voice, his hand running down the length of my back. “Ah, my pretty, naked girl.”

  I can’t help the giggle that escapes my lips, and I feel like a kid the moment I hear the sound fill my ears. Slapping my hand over my mouth, I groan, but he just chuckles at me.

  “My cute, sweet, ridiculously
sexy, naked, pretty girl, who I love more than anything,” he says, leaning down and capturing my mouth with his. He slowly kisses me, his lips caressing my own in sweet, languid movements. “I love you, Cheyenne.”

  My heart swells at hearing him say those words all over again, but I try to be playful. “Someone’s insatiable,” I tease when he finally pulls away.

  His fingers come down to pinch my ass, causing me to yelp. “Just making sure that wasn’t another one of your cowboy dreams,” he says, teasing me. A few weeks ago I probably would have turned red at his reminder of the first time he touched me, but he’s done it so many times since then that I can memorize the way he touches me every time.

  Laughing, I reposition myself so that his arm is around me, my leg is twisted between his, and my arm’s resting on his chest. Silently running my fingers over his skin, I realize I’m too anxious to go back to sleep.

  “Tell me about your childhood, Sawyer,” I request, wishing that for once he’d open up.

  He sighs, and while part of me wants to regret ruining the moment, I’d feel better knowing that he trusted me enough to talk about it. I feel like I’ve been an open book, but he’s been a diary, and I’m not privy to the combination.

  “Not much to tell, Cheyenne. You know my mom died when I was really young. I didn’t get a chance to make all the memories with her like you were able to. To be honest, I’ve learned more about her this summer from Wyatt than I have in all my life. Dad never talked about her,” he says, and my heart breaks a little for him. I know I curse the universe for taking Daddy from me at such a young age, but like Sawyer said, at least I have happy memories with him.

  “I know, and I don’t mean to pry. It’s just, I feel like I’ve gotten to know you, Sawyer, as you are now, but I don’t know anything about you outside Shiloh Grove. Yeah, you’re going to Auburn, you want to major in economics, and your dad travels a lot. That’s all I know.”

  I can see him frowning in the moonlight, his brows furrowing like he’s trying to process what I just said. “I guess I never thought of it that way. I’ve just never really thought there’s much of a story to tell. Dad was always in and out of town, one business trip after another. I guess I always just assumed I’d follow in his footsteps and go into economics.”

  He pauses, and I take the opportunity to interject. “What exactly does your dad do if it’s so important that you follow in his footsteps?” I ask, curious because before he told me he was just some middleman.

  I try not to notice the way he pauses before answering me. “He’s just a consultant for a financial firm in Atlanta. It’s no big deal, really, but for some reason he’s always wanted me to join the company after him.”

  Wrinkling my brows, I try to wrap my mind around this. “I mean, I understand him maybe having some pull to get you hired in, but isn’t his basically guaranteeing you a job considered nepotism?”

  “No, he doesn’t have the power to do that. All he can do is hand my resume to HR and hope they hire me. But it’s years off, and I’m not sure I want to do that anyway.”

  I can hear the resignation in his voice, so I drop the whole dad interrogation. “What do you mean? You don’t want to pursue economics?” I ask, truly interested in what he wants to do with his future.

  His chest rises and falls as he sighs. He absentmindedly plays with my hair before answering. “Truthfully? My favorite courses so far have been accounting and marketing. I love playing the numbers, and I also really enjoy the idea of creating campaigns for products. Economics is the last thing I want to do.”

  Sitting up, I brace the sheet across my chest before it falls, causing Sawyer to cock an eyebrow up at me. I ignore him as I situate myself on the bed so I’m sitting cross-legged, still looking down at him.

  “If you don’t want to do economics, then why are you?” I ask, knowing it’s not rocket science and it’s his dad that’s influencing him.

  He doesn’t meet my eyes as he answers. “I don’t know, Cheyenne. I guess it’s just been ingrained in me that I’ll go this route and I’m afraid to deviate from it,” he admits, and my heart melts, knowing he’s finally letting me in.

  “If your passion lies with something else, then you need to go for it,” I tell him, even though I wish I could tell his passion to send him to Berkeley. “Trust me, Sawyer. You need to do what you want to do or else you’ll just end up resentful, angry, and unsatisfied.”

  He looks at me contemplatively, as if it’s the first time he’s ever heard this thought process. “Do you really think so?” he asks quietly as he pulls me in close.

  “Sawyer Callahan, I think you can do anything you set your mind to. You just have to make sure that you’re the one who wants it. No one else should matter. Just you.”

  Leaning in, he presses a kiss against my forehead. “You’ll always matter, pretty girl,” he whispers. “I have no idea how I’m going to say goodbye at the end of the summer.”

  His words flow over me, sending a shockwave throughout my body, and it’s unlike anything I’ve ever felt before. I’m overjoyed, terrified, and absolutely one hundred percent head over heels in love. And just like Sawyer, I have no clue how I’m going to let this go.

  March 2014

  I SWEAR, WITH CHEYENNE, we’re always one step forward, two steps back. Just when I think I’m beginning to get in close with her, something happens to mess it all up. I thought that night at her apartment would help refresh her memory, but when we got to work, she seemed cool again, disappointing me until I could see the flush on her cheeks when I whispered in her ear in the elevator. I messed with her, spending the rest of the morning acting casual, like I wasn’t affected by her very presence. Let’s just say it’s a good thing there was a large wooden desk—the desk I’m sitting at right now, the one I’ve envisioned spreading her across since the moment she stepped back into my life—separating us or else she’d have been able to tell that I was just putting on a front.

  When I pick up the Kensington account file, I can’t help the smug smile that spreads over my face as I remember the way she acted when the young, beautiful Victoria Kensington hit on me shamelessly. To be honest, a few months ago, once our work with their account was complete, I probably would’ve taken her up on her offer. I’m not a horndog. I don’t sleep with every woman who crosses my path in some foolish way to try and get over Cheyenne, but I also don’t date women with promises of rings, babies, and white picket fences. I like to see them casually, socially, and for the most part, they all seem okay with it. Victoria would’ve been the perfect example. She might date a guy like me for a while, have a little fun, but at the end of the day, she’ll settle down with a man from a family that comes from old money, that has true blue blood. Dad’s success was his own, so we’re considered from new money, and unfortunately, we’re still not good enough in some circles. In the end, it works out perfectly. I get a little bit of companionship, and they get to rebel, even just the slightest, before Daddy makes them settle down with someone with a name worth something down here in the South.

  A knock on my door pulls me from my thoughts. Marnie, my secretary, opens the door when I tell her to come in. She places a stack of papers on my desk and an appointment schedule for the next week.

  “If there’s nothing else, Mr. Callahan, I’m doing to head out for the weekend,” she says, and I groan. I’ve told her to call me Sawyer hundreds of times, but she never does.

  Looking at the clock, I see that it’s already after four. This week flew by, and after my catching Cheyenne lying to Victoria about my dating status, she’s acted distant. Professional, but not personal. I know I shouldn’t have brought up our past, but when I’m around her, I just can’t help myself. It slips out constantly, and it’s a sign to myself—and probably her—that I’m still not over what happened. Maybe I just need closure. Yeah, I bet that’s it. I still have no idea why she left the way she did, even though she tried to leave a letter of explanation. Jesus, that letter. Before I can even begin to re
call it, I hear Marnie clear her throat.

  “Of course, Marnie. Have a great weekend and say hi to Joe and the kids for me,” I tell her, slightly embarrassed that she caught me mid-thought.

  I decide to work through the stack of paperwork she dropped off before finally calling it a day. It’s Friday evening, and unlike most twenty-six-year-old single men in the city of Atlanta, I have no plans. The gym’s calling my name as I’m ready to work off the aggression from the week. Locking up the office, I head toward the elevator, wishing I hadn’t sent Cheyenne in my place to a meeting across town. All week I’ve been trying to figure out way to find out how I could get her to fall for another night of dinner plans, but I never could quite ask her. As if she were anticipating the question, she always bugged off, making up some excuse and exiting the office before I could get the words out.

  I enter the elevator alone and inwardly groan as it stops on a floor below mine, where several of the guys from the production department enter. Pretending I’m more interested in my phone than their presence, I don’t acknowledge them. They’re already deep in conversation, joking around, not paying me any attention. They’re discussing some happy hour gig that’s apparently a hot spot for tonight, and they start talking chicks, so I zone out. I’m checking out the stock prices when I hear her name, causing me to look up.

  “I asked that hot Hamilton chick if she’s going and she told me she wouldn’t miss it. I swear, she’s been flirting with me for weeks, and I’m finally excited to see her out of those sexy pencil skirts and in something a little skimpier. God, it’s such a shame the way she has to cover that amazing rack every single day. If she’d just pop one more button, we’d be able to get a glimpse at her sweet tits,” one of the assholes tells his buddies.

 

‹ Prev