Page 75 of Good Directions

19

ANTON

Sawyer stirs next to me in bed, the soft coos from her slumber morphing into more of a mumble. I roll onto my back, not wanting to give the impression that I was watching her sleep. Even though that is exactly what I was doing.

It’s hard not to. She looks damn near angelic like this.

Another little mumble, paired with the shifting of the sheets, and there’s no question she’s awake now.

“Why am I still dressed?”

I chuckle. The almost accusatory tone to her question probably shouldn’t be funny, especially when that’s the first thing out of her mouth in the morning, but I can’t help myself. Having gotten to know her—the real her—I’ve learned that little Miss Bossy Pants is nothing more than her go-to defense. Same as sarcasm and button pushing is mine.

“You fell asleep on the ride home last night,” I tell her, rolling back to the position I was just in, propping myself up on my elbow. I look down at her, those chestnut locks spread across the pillow, burying her scent in it, leaving her mark, so that I’ll be able to smell her on the nights she’s back at Magnolia Manor. “I didn’t have the heart to wake you, and it felt kinda creepy to undress you while you were asleep. Even to just take off your shorts.”

Sawyer smiles, an honest-to-God, true smile, and my heart stops. I swear on everything, that smile is brighter than the sun itself, warming me up like the middle of July.

“I didn’t realize I was that tired.”

“I blame Tizzy’s chocolate-covered bourbon cherries. They pack a punch and go straight to your head, but are deceptively delicious.”

“That they are.”

She stretches out, a yawn escaping as she raises her arms, her boobs shifting ever so slightly from her move. Damn bra keeping them in place. Still, it’s more than enough to make my dick twitch, the memory of her naughty insinuation from last night still running through my mind.

“Is there anything on the to-do list other than Sunday dinner at your parents’?” she asks, sliding out of bed and disappearing into the bathroom.

“Nope. I should probably call Alex at some point and check to see if anything was worth picking this morning, and if there was any kind of intake, but I can pretty much guarantee there wasn’t.” I sit up, propping the pillow up behind me and leaning my head back against the headboard. “It’s funny, some summers are so full tilt, balls-to-the-wall busy that I can’t see straight and would kill for a lazy summer Sunday morning. And this year, now that I get one…I don’t know what to do with myself.”

“You could always do me.”

I look up, eyes landing on Sawyer, in nothing but her mint-green panties, leaning against the doorjamb to the bathroom. Her hair is still mussed from sleep, but her brown eyes have a glint to them like I’ve never seen.

Oh, fuuuuuuck…

I’m rock hard in an instant, all the blood in my body rushing to my dick, leaving me incapable of any other thought. The only thing I can focus on is the insanely gorgeous, nearly naked woman standing in my bedroom, asking me to fuck her.

And who am I to turn down the lady’s request?

“Is that what you want?”

Sawyer bites into her bottom lip, a move done more out of self-consciousness than in an attempt to be sexy, but accomplishes the latter nonetheless, a blush creeping up her cheeks. Nodding, she saunters across the room, climbing onto the bed and kneeling next to me.

“I want to spend the morning in bed with you, doing all sorts of things that until you walked into my life, I thought were just a fantasy.”

Well, Sawyer Brown, your wish is my command.

I wrap an arm around her, hauling her into me, and kiss her hard. She lets out a whimper, the sweet taste of her lips mixed with a minty freshness that betrays her bathroom activities. The fact that she thought she had to brush her teeth before she kissed me this morning is adorable though, making my already raging hard-on even harder. Something that shouldn’t be possible. Yet somehow, she’s doing it.

Deepening the kiss, I run my fingers through her hair, trying to pull her closer still. Wanting to make sure that no part of us isn’t touching. That she feels just as consumed by this as I do. Circling her hips, she brushes her panty-clad center over my hard-on, and that’s more than enough to push me past a breaking point. There’s no holding back now.

“Tell me your fantasy,” I say, my voice coming out gruffer than I anticipated.

“What?”

Sawyer draws back, but I stop her, holding her in place. I keep my hand firmly on the nape of her neck as I start to kiss along her jaw and then down her neck, tasting her skin.

“You said that you wanted to do things you’ve only fantasized about.” I nip at her collarbone, earning me a moan and another grind of her hips against my cock. Fuck, Sawyer… “So tell me. When you imagined this—when you thought about me fucking you—how did it go? What did we do?”