Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 83102 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83102 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
The tour continues and I’m allowed a decent look around the kitchen and a full perusal of the mudroom off the driveway, but then while I’m running my hand over the cute blue and white wallpaper in his half-bath, I catch Sawyer studying me intently, an obvious longing in his eyes before he smiles, nodding to another room. From that moment on (whether I’m just imagining it or not), it seems like Sawyer starts to speed things along. I’m barely spared a glimpse at the office and then he taps on a closed door down the hall. “That’s a bedroom, but I have it set up as a gym for now.”
I turn back to look at him over my shoulder as he prods me along. “Don’t I get to see it?”
“My weight set? I’ll show you first thing in the morning. Let you test it out and everything. How’s that?”
“Now, now, I want the full tour. If you’re hiding a room filled with junk—”
He flings the door open, proving it’s a neat home gym, just like he promised. Then he wraps his arm around my waist and scoops me toward the primary bedroom.
I can’t suppress a giggle. “Now who’s anxious to get to the bedroom? Don’t cheat me out of the full tour. I think you should show me the garage. And the backyard and the…”
His head falls so his mouth aligns with my ear. In a low voice, he groans. “Madison. Don’t test me.”
I smile like a deviant just as we reach his bedroom. “Oh, this is nice,” I joke. “There’s a real headboard—check. A coordinating bedding set—check. Side tables and an antique dresser—check check. And most importantly, no dirty clothes littering the ground.” I squint at him discerningly. “Be honest, did you shove them all in the closet earlier?”
Sawyer’s wearing a sly smile when he spins me around to face him. That look I caught in the bathroom earlier is back. His feelings for me are so plain to see.
“Have I passed your test?” he asks, gathering me closer until we’re hip to hip.
My hands slide up over his chest, and I take note of the hard muscles beneath the soft fabric of his shirt. “Well, I didn’t see the garage yet…”
He laughs at my uncertain tone, and then before I can continue my silly charade, he leans down to kiss me. All jokes aside, this is why I’m here. Lightning sparks between us, eviscerating the last of my ridiculous demands to see his entire house. Nothing else exists as my hands venture up around his neck, my fingers slipping into his hair. Our kiss deepens, our mouths opening in sync.
Step by step, Sawyer backs us up to his bed, but before we tumble down onto it, he unzips the back of my dress. It’s a slow, teasing movement, and it sends shivers across every one of my limbs. He peels me out of the tight fabric and then steps back, dragging his gaze from the top of my head, down over my chest—which is rising and falling with shallow breaths—along my quivering stomach, my thighs, knees, calves, wiggling toes.
Fire burns in his gaze when we lock eyes again, and I feel completely at his mercy as he takes a predatory step toward me. Then another. We kiss again, deeper, longer. I think he’ll continue undressing me, undress himself, but we linger in the shallows so long that I’m left panting by the time he finally tips me back onto his bed and peels my panties down my legs. I feel vulnerable as I lie nearly naked before him, but I don’t resist. I slip my bra straps off my shoulders and let him do the rest, peeling off the lacy fabric and setting it reverently aside, never taking his eyes off me.
There’s no discussion, no confirmation that we’re both willing. There’s no need. Our longing fills the air we breathe. It’s in the way my fingers dig into his biceps as he climbs up and over me. His mouth claims my neck, my chest, my breasts. I arch up for him and his emotions bleed into me. I feel tears prick the corners of my eyes, but I keep them at bay as Sawyer slips down my body, kissing his way along my torso and stomach, my navel, taking his time, working me to a fever pitch before he sinks between my parted thighs, and held-back tears finally slip down my cheeks as I tilt my head back and inhale a sharp breath.
It’s already too late…I’ve fallen. Please let him fall too.
My eyes ping open with the realization that I haven’t begged in this desperate way since I was a little girl wanting a birthday party to go on forever, a carousel ride to loop endlessly, a conversation with my dad to not be the last. My emotions overwhelm me. I don’t mean to let the tears continue to fall, but they do, and Sawyer notices.