by Gina Watson
The knowledgeable sommelier went through the ostentatious list of French wines they housed, and then asked if they cared to hear the list of stocked domestics. His eyes darted between them, awaiting an answer until he finally fixed his gaze on Sawyer.
Sawyer’s leg began to shake, his heel pressing into the ground and popping his right leg back up as if on a springboard. “Um…” The leg shaking became so vigorous that it disturbed the table, almost knocking over their water glasses. He pressed his hand hard into his knee to stop the nervous side effect.
“Actually, we’re having steak and fries. What beer do you recommend?” Courtney asked.
“Beer?” He looked completely appalled.
“Yeah,” Courtney smiled brightly at him. “Steak and fries night is lovely when paired with a beer.”
“You may speak to your waiter about ordering beer.”
“Right! Sorry to have disturbed you from your perch.” She waved her hand at him, shooing him away.
Sawyer laughed and she joined him. She was so damned cute, and not easily intimidated. All laughter abated when she placed their order in French and it had him growing hard beneath the table.
Sexual tension loomed like a thick cloud as they sat across from one another, eyes raging. He cleared his throat, hoping his mind would follow. “I realized when we were in the car that I don’t even know your last name.”
“Oh, yeah…um…Jones.”
Courtney Jones. Hmm, that almost didn’t seem exotic enough for the platinum, blue-eyed beauty who sat across from him. He’d like to call her Court.
“Do you mind me asking your age?”
“You’re not supposed to ask a lady her age.”
“So yes.”
“Yes.” She sipped her water, pressing her lips together before sliding her tongue across them to gather the stray drops. He’d like to be those drops. “I’m twenty-five.”
“That’s a good age. It suits you.”
“Thanks.”
“So you’re twenty-five and live at home.”
“I do. How old are you?”
“Twenty-seven.” He sipped his water. “Most twenty-somethings want out of the house, and you are in real estate so I’m curious…why do you stay at home?”
Her heartwarming smile had his thoughts running wild. He dreamed of an apron-clad mother greeting her children with a homemade apple pie, and a father ready to play catch with his children as soon as he returned from a day’s work.
“I guess I’m a little scared it’ll be too quiet living alone. With three older brothers and a younger sister there are always shenanigans about. Until recently my youngest two brothers lived at home. I love my father. I love my mom too of course, but I’m a daddy’s girl. He had a heart scare a few years ago and retired. If I ever was going to move out it would have been after college, but with his health scare there was no way I was going to leave.”
“How’s he doing now?”
“He’s completely healed. Pacemaker was all he needed. He’s as cantankerous as ever.” She giggled. “I’ve been thinking it may be time to give living on my own a try, but I think I’d be a little sad—walking into a dark home after work with no noise and no one running amuck. I don’t know how I’d manage, but I know I can’t live at home forever.”
“I don’t know about that. I know a guy who’s forty and lives in his mother’s basement.”
She grimaced. “I draw the line at basement living. What about you? How long have you been on your own?”
Deep in thoughts that ghosted in from the past, he scratched his head with his index finger. “A while.”
Slamming her water glass down, her eyes widened and her jaw dropped. She was looking just past him. Once she recovered, the look of pain overcame her shocked demeanor. “Fuck,” she mumbled.
Sawyer turned to see what had her so upset. A tall, slim guy in a suit approached. His arm was draped suggestively around a busty woman who flaunted her endowment with a plunging neckline. Sawyer thought the guy looked like a politician in his expensive gray suit. He approached, his eyes burning into Courtney as he pulled the dark-haired woman at his side closer to his body, his hand lowering to her hip.
“Courtney, you’re looking…about the same.” He turned toward Sawyer, his eyes scanning from Sawyer’s boots to the top of his head several times before turning his gaze back to Courtney. “I see your stock has fallen since we split the shares.”
Courtney said nothing. In fact she wouldn’t look him in the eye at all, choosing instead to concentrate on her water glass.
“You must remember Addison.”
“Of course. How could I forget? You’re looking quite tolerant.”
The guy turned his gaze on Sawyer as he spoke, “Aren’t you going to introduce your…uh…what is this a date?”
“Leave. I don’t even know why you bothered to come over here.”
He looked them over and laughed. “Well the Dah-veed family does like keeping company with the common man.” He’d accentuated the name.
“Go away.”
David family? Sawyer’s brain zeroed in on that one detail. David. She’s a David. His gaze pinned her to the wall behind her. She knew it too as she returned his gaze with a pleading one of her own.
“I hope he’s everything you were looking for in a man. He certainly seems to be of mediocre stock.”
“Get out!” She screamed, and then hurled the contents of her water glass in his face.
Sawyer wanted to enjoy the look on her ex’s face, but he was too focused on her last name. David. She’d lied when she’d said her last name was Jones. He stood so abruptly his chair tumbled over. “What’s your last name?”
“Sawyer, please.”
“What is it? Misses Jones.”
“I’m sorry, please sit back down and let me explain.”
Fuck that. He violently shrugged out of the jacket and made his way toward the door, his blood rolling through his veins like a rogue wave at sea.
He heard her ex laughing behind him. Greeter girl approached him as he was exiting the restaurant. “Sir, the jacket.”
“Fuck the damned jacket!” He huffed and walked with swift strides down the sidewalk. He was aware of diners arriving and leaving and gasps all around, but his vision was impaired as everything came at him through a red haze.
He heard the shuffling of feet approaching behind him. “Sawyer please, let me explain.”
Her hand landed on his arm and he pulled out of her hold. “Don’t touch me!”
She retreated, instantly flinching at his yell. “I’m sorry.” Courtney whispered.
He knew better…he fucking knew better! What the hell was he doing getting close to her? And what kind of man did she thing he was? She wouldn’t even trust him with her name for fuck’s sake.
“I’ll drive you back.”
“Just leave me alone.”
“Please stop and look at me.” She tugged his arm again and he turned with force, watching her eyes widen beneath his stare as he towered over her. Her breathing became heavy as she took in his anger.
“Speak!”
“Can we get into the car so that I may explain?”
“Tell me something…were you conducting some kind of experiment? Did you want to make it with a ditch digger to have some blue-collar anecdotes to share with your Hollywood friends? Did you fancy a dirty, uneducated fucking?” He threw his hands in the air. “I guess you found it prudent to keep your name out of it so that I wouldn’t try to get at your money.”
She looked down, turning her face away from his penetrating stare. When she spoke, her voice was broken. “No, it was nothing like that, I swear. I don’t have many friends, and none like that. Lying to you about my last name had nothing to do with money.”
“You’re a beautiful liar. Very convincing.”
Her nostrils flared and her eyes narrowed at him. “You’re right. I am lying.”
He let her free and walked fast. So fast she had to run along behi
nd him to keep up. He was halfway to the cheese shop and wondering when she’d run out of steam so that he could be alone.
“You’re afraid of me because I’m different from you.”
He froze. Behind him the clicking of her heels stopped, indicating she had also stopped. He turned, fuming. His blood pulsed so hard he felt it rushing past his temples. He set narrowed eyes on her and she retreated. He backed her into a brick building, placing his hands on either side of her head and leaned in as close as possible, but where she’d still be in focus. “One day in my world and you’d be begging for death. You couldn’t handle it! People of your station don’t consort, and certainly don’t fuck those beneath you. You misunderstand, I’m not afraid of you”—
“Then stop being a coward and touch me.”
Her words incensed him! She thought he was a coward? He closed his eyes and inhaled the concentrated scent behind her ear. Everything about her frustrated him. His longing for her, the way his cock came to attention every time she was around, the little sway of her hips when she walked away, her plush pink lips, the thought of her nakedness he’d only barely glimpsed. He’d wanted her, but who was he kidding?…she’d never be his. If she wanted his touch now, he’d give it to her—once, to get it out of his system. “If you’d like to know what it’s like to make it with the common man”—he thrust his hips into her, letting his erection rub between her legs—“I’d be glad to accommodate. Mind you, it’s not clean—it’ll be dirty and rough and uncivilized.”
Her breath against his lips was soft and moist. Her eyes closed and her chest heaved with the efforts of her breathing. “What does that mean?”
“Do you want to find out? Answer yes or no.”
“I…uh…”
“Yes or no!”
“Yes!”
He stilled his lips just above hers, hovering so close that the lightest trace could be felt against their red flesh. She moaned and sank beneath him. Then he bit her on the lip hard, drawing a drop of blood. Her growl sent sparks straight to his cock.
He pulled away, watching her sag against the wall before pulling her along behind him.
“Where are we going?”
“The real estate office.”
“What?”
“It’s the office or the alley. Your choice.”
“The office.”
Chapter 7
“Open the door, and then lock it behind us.”
He pulled her along, finding the conference room, and then pushing her into it.
“I don’t have condoms so I hope you’re on the pill, but these aren’t the kinds of things riffraff worry with. Take off your dress.”
She froze as he stood across from her, glaring. He was waiting for her to cave—to refuse him so that he’d be right about the wealthy, the privileged. This was it—the standoff, the crossroads. Just look at him standing there smoldering with narrowed eyes and that sexy smirk. She reached her hands behind her and the sound of her zipper coming down filled the space between them. He’d get an eye full, that’s for sure. With lace, she couldn’t wear a traditional bra so she’d worn only breast tape.
Sliding her thumb into the material at her shoulder she slid the dress down and over her breasts, down her legs, and stepped out of the lace beauty.
His brow furrowed in confusion as he looked at her chest. “It’s breast tape. I can’t really wear a bra with that dress.”
“Take it off.”
His voice was like gusty winds passing through a wet, sludgy tunnel. As he watched with the attentiveness of a grazing gazelle in the Serengeti, she peeled the tape from one breast, and then the other. His mouth opened slightly to accommodate a hiss of breath.
“So this is your last chance to shy away…you should know a working man doesn’t beg, doesn’t soothe, doesn’t make love. It’s not a slow, easy fuck. It’s not once, not twice, but until I’m satisfied. He fucks hard, unforgiving, just like he works.”
At his harsh words her mouth went dry and liquid pooled between her legs. How could she tell him that kind of fucking was exactly what she wanted—to be taken with unbridled passion? “I won’t shy away.”
In challenge, he cocked a brow at her. “Panties off!”
At his harsh yell she complied, rolling the lace thong down her legs and stepping out of it. His dark eyes flashed with reflected light. He was still fully clothed, but she stood before him, naked except for her pumps, and as his eyes took in her naked form she felt desired. That desire turned into a liquid heat as she zeroed in on the bulge growing down his thigh. He gripped himself, pronouncing his thickness all the more as the denim hugged around the bulge. “Damn, woman! You need to sort this out—you’ve got me in quite a state.”
Her mouth filled with saliva—she was beyond ready for him. She licked her lips in anticipation and he growled as he walked toward her.
Dropping to his knees before her had his nose at the apex of her thighs. She felt his whispered breath across her lips as he inhaled deeply and closed his eyes, seemingly delighting in her scent. “You smell like lust. Is that for me?”
“Mmm.” She moaned.
“Answer me.”
“Yes, all for you,” she managed to squeak out around her heightened senses.
She felt his fingers skimming her thigh before he slid them into the fold between her legs. “You’re fucking soaked. How long have you been this way?”
“Since I saw your muscles bunching as you took out the trash at the cheese shop.”
“Fuck!” His middle finger entered her and she felt her muscle greedily clamp around his digit. “Damn.” He continued for a few more thrusts before he removed his finger and brought it to his lips, his eyes intent on hers as he looked up from his position between her legs. He traced his bottom lip with her wetness, leaving the flesh there glistening. With his tongue he lapped at the moisture, moaning in what sounded a lot like he’d just enjoyed the first bite of a savory meal. “Taste yourself.” She sucked his middle finger, swiping her tongue around and exploring the flavor.
His tongue swirled at her clitoris and she felt her knees buckle, his arms on her hips held her in place. She rested her hands on his shoulders to keep her standing balance. She adjusted her legs to allow him to get deeper—She was so wanton, but he was amazing! His fingers left her right hip and traced along her seam—and then he was inside of her, thrusting in and out as his tongue swirled over her sensitive knot. When he entered a second finger and curled them inside of her she shut her eyes tight.
“Oh God, oh God, oh God!”
“Are you going to come Court?” He mumbled against her sensitized flesh.
“Mmm.”
“Answer me.”
His voice vibrated through her as he sucked her clitoris between his lips. “Yes! Sawyer, God!” She was gone, thrusting her hips toward his mouth and curling her fingers tightly into his hair, she pulled him as close as she could get him to her core.
As she regained her consciousness she felt his hands release her. Her eyes were closed, but she still felt his warmth so she knew he was near.
“Open your blue eyes.” His whispered breath in her face had her slowly returning to earth. When she finally was able to open her eyes he was standing before her, looking down into her eyes with his simmering browns. His hands caressed her jaw before he bent to kiss her deeply, sharing her taste.
Their tongues slid against one another and she tasted the sex on his breath and excitement curled in her belly. She wanted him again—what a slut she was! But God he was skilled at this. Whatever this was because she knew this wasn’t sex. No. She’d had sex before. This was wrong, this was consuming, this was pleasure, this was dirty. But there was nothing—absolutely nothing, including the second coming of Christ—that would have her leaving his caress. Like she’d said, this was wrong and she’d pay for it in the confessional, but for now she’d let her body enjoy his.
Suddenly his consuming kiss ended on a growl and he lifted her, carrying her to the confere
nce table. He set her on the edge and stepped between her legs, and then he started in on the buckle of his belt. Wanting to get a look at what she knew would be a glorious chest, she tugged at the hem of his snug shirt. Taking a break from his belt, he aided her in pulling it off. No undershirt! Just bronze, glorious peaks and valleys. Small tight nipples were set in bountiful pecs. Her hands sought to explore and she raked her fingers over his chest, squeezing his nipples before her tongue licked to sooth her savage tweaks.
“Damn baby, you’re hot.” He positioned his erection between her legs. She felt his hard length, but she didn’t get a look at it. He was still jean-clad and regretfully she wished she’d thought to turn on the light so that she could have taken in the sight of him in all of his male glory.
“Hold on tight.”
He slammed into her on one deep thrust, using his hands under her thighs to pull her down, and then tossed her forth. Oh God. He was huge. He had to be bigger than she’d ever had and she struggled to relax around his size as he invaded her innermost place.
He was relentless with his stabs, but oh fuck he was hitting her with something, somewhere that had her panting and building. This was new. She’d never come before through penetrative sex, but she definitely felt something climbing inside of her.
His breathing was loud and his groans feral as his punishing rhythm assaulted and consumed her. His attack on her body was a combination of pleasure and pain. As his repeated thrusts threatened to push her up the table, her hands curled onto the edge, while his hands kneaded her breasts and his fingers punished her nipples. She was nearly there—something inside was about to snap. “Sawyer!”
“What love?”
Love? “I…I need…”
“Not yet. You’ll wait.”
Frustrated, she moved her hands to his back and her fingers dug in, tearing skin, but she needed releasing—how she didn’t know, but she needed it and she needed it ten seconds ago.
“God it’s amazing to be inside you.”
“Sawyer!”
“Now Court. Go now!” He roared.
Her back arched, pushing her chest into him as she screamed out her release. His open lips between her breasts sucked as she detonated around him. Muscles contracted, squeezing him even deeper as he exploded above her. She felt his hot seed gush inside of her as he ground out his orgasm, pounding with fury. Her body had never been so abused, so needed, so desired.