Moxley’s face split into a grin, stretching so wide his teeth hurt. “Really?”
Sawyer coughed. “Yes.”
Moxley’s arms encircled Sawyer’s waist, drawing her closer, so she was pressed against him, tilting her head back to look at him. “So just to clarify, you like me? As in you like me?”
Sawyer rolled her eyes. “Well, this isn’t elementary school, but yes, I do like like you in fact. I mean, I don’t have any presentation prepared or anything, but I do.”
Moxley threw his head back and barked out a laugh, feeling her shake against him in the process, suppressed laughter bubbling to the surface. “Yeah, I might have gone overboard.”
“Might?” Sawyer raised both eyebrows. “It looks like you hired an event planner, and I still want to see the presentation by the way, but not right now.”
As soon as the words left her mouth, she captured her lips with his, nibbling on his bottom lip delicately. He made a low groan in the back of his throat, his body instantly molding itself to hers and parted his lips, their tongues battling for dominance.
Sawyer whimpered her fingers tangling themselves in his hair and yanking hard. She drew back slightly, her eyes hooded and full of desire as she shrugged out of her coat and let it fall in a heap on the floor, revealing the racy get up she was in.
With her black see-through stockings, and red lingerie, leaving very little to the imagination and clinging to every curve, he instantly felt himself harden, his throat going dry.
“You are stunning,” Moxley whispered, reaching for her. He ran his fingers over her, from the slope of her back, down to the curve of her hip and back, along the inside of her thigh, all the way up to her heaving breasts, barely held together by the bra.
“You would look even better without the clothes on,” Moxley realized, dropping his voice a low octave, so it sounded husky. Sawyer made a noncommittal noise in the back of her throat, hooking her legs around his waist.
Moxley drew back and let his hands fall to her ass, cupping it, so she was wrapped around him, his lips finding hers once more. Slowly, he maneuvered them into the bedroom, spreading her out before him, a masterpiece for him and him alone.
As soon as her back hit the mattress, she moved backward, their lips never leaving each other until she hit the headboard and unclipped the garter, sliding the stockings over her legs, the movement both sensual and alluring.
His eyes bulged as he watched her, barely able to stop himself from ripping the whole thing off. She moved, so she was on all fours, and he slid out of his jacket, shoving it away. She helped him out of the shirt, popping the last few buttons open before she tossed it away, reclaiming his lips with hers, demanding and present.
Of their own accord, his hands moved across her body, trailing slowly, leaving goosebumps in his wake. She shuddered, spreading her legs open for him, and he settled between them, lowering the straps of her bra, her nipples springing free, hard as pebbles.
He took one breast in his mouth, twirling his tongue around, watching as her eyes fluttered closed, her hands curling around the sheets, hips rising to meet his, looking for friction.
Moxley switched to the other breast, lavishing the same kind of attention till her mouth was parted, making soft little panting noises, desperate for him and his touch, craving it like he was air.
In no time at all, he had her undressed, her beautiful body stretched out before him. Her fingers fumbled with his belt, drawing parallels to his first time with her before she released the belt and pushed his trousers down, groaning in frustration when they wouldn’t move.
He chuckled and kicked them off, his lips trailing down from her neck all the way to her panties. He hooked his teeth around the edges and slid them off, spitting them out and plunging one finger in.
She cried out, her hips bucking at the contact. He slid another finger in, watching as her eyes squeezed shut, her bottom lip drawn between her teeth as she tried to keep the moan in, her body squirming.
Her nails raked across his back, digging slightly, sure to leave marks in the morning, but he didn’t care. All he wanted was to be inside of her, pushing her closer and closer to the edge till she cried out his name, over and over.
But first, he wanted to watch her, studying every detail of her face, relishing in the fact that she got to experience pleasure at his hands, her face contorted in ecstasy.
“Be as loud as you want baby,” Moxley encouraged, his voice a low growl. She whimpered in response, pushing herself up, so her breasts poked against his, the boxers practically ripping apart at the seams.
“Too many clothes,” Sawyer complained, in between pants. She glared at the item accusingly and used both her hands to yank the boxers down, allowing his erection to spring free. Immediately, she palmed it in her hand, stroking up and down till he threw his head back and made a choked sound, unable to bear it any longer.
She lay back and guided him into her, nipping at his neck, beckoning him to make the next move. Obediently, he thrust in, holding himself still as he filled her, and she expanded in the process, adapting to him.
Once he was sure she was ready, he pulled himself out then thrust in, eliciting a loud moan in the process, her hands coming up around his neck, pulling his hair hard. He let his hips circle her, rotating over and over till he felt her responded, her response basic and animalistic, her need for him overpowering everything else.
Over and over, he brought her closer to the edge, watching as she came undone beneath him every single time, her body spasming until she could take it no more, his name a low chant, filling his ears like music.
Finally, his own release came, and he growled, feeling it rip through him till he rolled off of her, spent and exhausted. Immediately, she curled into his side and placed a kiss to his cheek, throwing one leg over him.
He smiled and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. “I think I didn’t quite get what you meant earlier. Are you sure you like me?”
Sawyer giggled. “Not as much as you like me. I want to see the presentation.”
Chapter 8
Sawyer
“Come on.”
“No.”
“Please,” Sawyer pleaded, sticking out her bottom lip in a pout. For exaggerated effect, she batted her eyelashes at him, slow and dramatic, knowing full well it wouldn’t work. Moxley kissed the tip of her nose and laughed.
“I’m not showing you the presentation.”
Sawyer shifted and pushed herself up, so her head was resting on her elbow. “But I really want to see it. I’ve never had anyone make me a presentation before. It sounds so sexy and exciting.”
And she wasn’t even kidding.
The fact that he took time out of his schedule to plan all of this, and a presentation to boot, meant a lot to her. It made her want to launch herself at him and pepper his face with kisses till the sun came back, basking in the glow of their lovemaking.
But she had no idea how to convey any of that.
She used to be good at the whole romance thing, but not anymore. Life had forced her to ignore it, shoving it to the back of her mind till it collected cobwebs with a thin layer of dust coating it.
“You’re making fun of me,” Moxley said, accusingly, his eyes sparkling with mirth. “I’m not showing you something you can use against me.”
Her hand flew to her heart. “Me? Use it against you? I would never.”
Moxley raised an eyebrow. “You need to work on your acting because that wasn’t convincing at all.”
Sawyer rolled her eyes. “You’re just jealous of my acting skills.”
Moxley scoffed. “Your nonexistent acting skills.”
He reached out and tugged on her arm, drawing her closer to him. Her head automatically went to rest in the crook of his neck, her body curving itself around him, a perfect fit, like they’d been doing this their whole lives.
Truthfully, they hadn’t even cuddled before.
It would’ve been incredibly hard and uncomfortable on the f
loor of the abandoned office room, and at the time, she’d assumed it was better not to blur the lines, preferring to keep the line separate, to the best of her ability at least.
Now, she couldn’t care less.
She wanted to be with Moxley, and she hadn’t realized how much till he stood there rambling about how she only thought of him as a sex partner and nothing else. For the record, it couldn’t be further from the truth, she’d just been trying to protect herself, but there was no need for that anymore.
Moxley dropped a kiss to the top of her head. “I’m hungry.”
“I don’t think I’m ready for round two just yet,” Sawyer teased, playing with the hair on his chest. His chest rumbled, a deep belly laugh that sent shivers racing up and down her spine.
“I meant for food. Although, I’m not opposed to round two either,” Moxley whispered, tugging on her suggestively. Goosebumps broke out across her flesh, and she giggled, the hair on the back of her neck rising to attention as he cupped her ass and twisted his hips suggestively.
Sawyer squirmed, managing to free her hands. “Food first then we can discuss round two. Maybe you’ll even persuade me with a presentation.”
Moxley groaned. “You’re not going to let me live it down, are you?”
Sawyer paused and tilted her head to the side. “No, probably not.”
Moxley sighed. “I brought it on myself.”
He released his grip on her and stood up, giving her his back as he reached for his boxers and slipped them on. Moxley disappeared into an adjoining room, and she heard the water running.
She stretched out across the bed, pressing her fingers to her sore muscles and smiled, loving the way her body ached, completely satiated. A minute later, Moxley stood at the foot of the door, watching her, his dark eyes appraising.
“I could look at you like that all day,” Moxley said. “I have a robe that I brought for you if you want it.”
Sawyer sat up and nodded. “Yeah, I’d like that.”
He removed his hands from behind his back and tossed it at her. In one fluid movement, she had it in her hands, and she stood up, waggling her eyebrows at Moxley as he watched her, eyes darkening even further, hunger written all over his features.
Before the robe was completely on, he strode towards her, pressing her body to his. “Are you sure I can’t persuade you to stay in here a little longer?”
Sawyer bit down on her bottom lip. “I’m sure. Now, come on. The food smelled delicious when I was coming in, and I want to see if it’s as good as it tastes.”
Moxley grinned and brought her hands up to his lips for a sweet kiss. “Okay, but afterward, you’re all mine.”
Her stomach dipped in response to his words, but she said nothing, allowing him to tug on her hand and lead her back to the kitchen where the food was set up. He offered to heat it up, but she waved off his protest, reaching for the oysters first.
An explosion of flavor hit her tongue, and she moaned, chewing slowly. “This is amazing! I love the sauce.”
“Thanks,” Moxley said, proud. “I also made garlic bread, and there’s a shrimp cocktail in the fridge.”
“You really did think of everything,” Sawyer commented, eyeing him over the glass of champagne. She poured herself a generous amount, then did the same for him, holding her glass out for a toast.
“To successful presentations,” Sawyer said, her lips twitching in amusement.
Moxley chuckled. “Alright, okay. I’ll show you the presentation. You drive a hard bargain.”
“You ain’t seen nothing yet,” Sawyer promised, offering him a slow and lazy grin before she took a sip. “And we’re still toasting to that.”
“Alright,” Moxley agreed. He took a quick sip then hopped off the stool, crouching in front of the fridge and pushing things around. A minute later, he pulled out two cups of shrimp, drenched in some kind of sauce with avocado slices in the center.
With an exaggerated flourish, he presented them, giving her a low bow and exaggerated wink in the process. Sawyer clutched her stomach and laughed.
***
From that day forward, they were inseparable, practically attached at the hip, with her spending most of her free time with him and vice versa. At work, they were professional and civil though the playful banter was hard to ignore especially when Moxley was trying to get a rise out of her.
She liked to hope they were keeping the fact that they were dating on the down-low, as discrete as possible given the work dynamics, but she was fairly certain everyone knew. It was hard to miss the look on his face when she walked into a room, and she was fairly certain she wasn’t any different.
The stupid grin on her face hadn’t disappeared since that night a few months ago when they got together, and she still tended to giggle around him, like some kind of high school girl discovering boys for the first time.
Well, she couldn’t help herself, he made her feel giddy and light on her feet, as if she was floating on some kind of cloud, way up in the sky, but more importantly, he made her feel invincible, like there was nothing she couldn’t do.
Moxley definitely added a splash of much-needed color to her life, making it seem warmer and brighter. Truthfully, she hadn’t even realized what she was missing out on till he came into her life, bringing her closer to the hopeless romantic she truly was.
“Someone is here to see you, Ms. Tipton.”
Surprised, she leaned back in her chair and shook her head, shaking away the remnants of her daydream. She glanced over at the clock, noted the hour and wondered who could possibly be coming to see her when it was almost closing time.
She really hoped it wasn’t a client otherwise she’d have to stay a little longer, and it was the last thing she wanted to do, visions of an evening intertwined with Moxley flashing through her mind.
Sawyer ran her hands over her skirt and stood up, opening the door, startled when she came face to face with the last person she expected to see, the ghost of Christmas past, literally speaking.
Isaac Calaway.
He looked nothing like she remembered, and yet exactly the same in many ways, his hazel colored eyes were still filled with mischief, and he towered over her, but he’d lost the baby fat, filling out with nothing but muscle.
His hair was also not the flowing mane of unruly curly hair atop his head. Instead, it was cropped short, showing off his sharp and angular features, his chin covered in light stubble.
“It’s good to see you, Sawyer.”
His voice was deep, lower than she remembered, and it had the power to transport her back, to a time when she and Isaac were two peas in a pod, growing up next to each other, the fiercest of friends.
They were thick as thieves until Isaac joined the military, and she never saw him again. Dimly, she recalled a tear-filled goodbye, with her clutching a fistful of his shirt, refusing to let go, and him with his hand on the small of her back, his eyes brimming with emotion, but they didn’t want to say it.
In the back of her mind, she’d always assumed they’d end up together, had dreamed of the day he’d finally realize that she was the one for him, but it had never panned out that way.
All through school, they dated different people, falling for the wrong people, never quite on the same page until it was too late, and it was time for him to go. She’d begged him to reconsider, to change his mind and stay behind with her, but he refused.
She’d stood out on the sidewalk, watching until his figure disappeared, no indication that he was ever there to begin except for the ache in her chest, and the burn in her eyes. For months, she cried, an ocean she was sure would never dry up.
Till one day, it got better.
Now, here he was again, removing a bouquet of flowers from behind his hand, like they were picking up where they left off.
Seven fucking years ago.
“Isaac,” Sawyer replied. “I wasn’t expecting you.”
“It’s been too long, I know, and I always meant to write, but I nev
er knew what to say, but I’m here now.”
Eh?
Sawyer blinked, her brain trying to play catch up. “You’re done with the military?”
He nodded. “I am, and I found your folks who told me you were working here. It’s a swanky place, S. Well done.”
The use of her old nickname threw her for a loop, as did the fact that he was acting like he was waiting for something, a declaration of her own perhaps, but she had no idea what to tell him.
He wasn’t her best friend anymore, just a stranger who wore his face.
“What are the flowers for?”
“They’re for you,” Isaac declared, holding them out.
“Um, I can’t accept those, Isaac,” Sawyer said, firmly. “It’s sweet of you, but this isn’t appropriate.”
“Why not?” Isaac asked, eyebrows drawn together in confusion.
“Because I have a boyfriend.”
“Hey!”
Speak of the devil. Moxley came rounding the corner, a vein popping in his neck, a murderous glint in his eye. Sawyer watched in disbelief as his fist swung out, hitting Isaac directly in the face, his head snapping backward.
“Stay the hell away from my girlfriend,” Moxley warned, drawing his hand back again. This time, Isaac was ready for him, catching his fist with both hands before landing a punch of his own, making Moxley double over in pain.
“Stop it!” Sawyer yelled. “Both of you, stop it.”
“He was coming onto you, Sawyer,” Moxley pointed out, angrily.
“I’m her best friend,” Isaac answered.
“Was my best friend,” Sawyer corrected. “And you both need to stop it. You’re acting like children.”
The back of her throat burned as they continued to circle each other, and she swallowed back the tears, storming out of the office to keep herself from drawing more attention.
What a mess.
Chapter 9
Moxley
Shit.
There was a reason people always advised him to think first, then ask questions, to allow his brain the chance to process before he rushed headlong into something, regretting it mere seconds later.
Billionaire: A Billionaire Boys Club novel Page 5