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“What would you know about it? What would you know about any of this?” Before I knew what was happening, he grabbed me by the wrist and yanked me toward him. Sawyer sat on the edge of the bed, his legs spread, allowing me to stand between them, my body pressed up against his. Since he was sitting, I was actually a few inches taller than him, but what little ground I had by being taller was cut off by the way he held onto my wrists—one at first. The second came soon after.
He pressed his nose against my neck, breathing me in. When I inhaled, I felt like I was pressing myself harder against him. This was…not a position I should be in, and yet I wasn’t fighting him, wasn’t pulling away.
That damned horny vagina of mine. Down, girl.
“You have no idea what you’ve walked into,” Sawyer murmured, tilting his face so that his lips brushed against the crook of my neck. Such sensitive skin, such a light, soft touch compared to the way he held onto my wrists.
Sawyer was trouble personified, the very definition of the type of boy you wouldn’t want to bring home to your parents. Sure, he had money, but money wasn’t enough, not where I was concerned. Money couldn’t mean less to me.
But holy hell, he was gorgeous. He had a face you could just stare at for hours and still find new things to be drawn to. Even with that lazy, half-assed smile of his—I couldn’t say whether I’d ever seen another guy anywhere near his level. A rich, snobby, preppy boy who was half dead inside. Maybe that’s what I found so appealing about him, his uncaring, wild state. He was an animal dressed as a young man, and I knew myself well enough to realize that I liked the animals more than I liked the gentlemen.
Gentlemen were good, don’t get me wrong, but they were boring. If you looked at my past history of dating, you’d find a whole host of questionable decisions. Some I made unknowingly, some totally willingly. Here and now, though? I didn’t plan on making the same mistakes I had in the past. Whatever flirtation Sawyer was trying to do, whatever this was—if he was trying to turn me against Declan or not—wouldn’t work.
I couldn’t let it work. My horny vagina would have to settle for some self-love tonight.
What I should’ve done was push Sawyer away. Though it would’ve been difficult to do since he still held onto my wrists with a firm, unyielding grip, I could’ve managed. His dick was near my knee; a good, harsh jerk of my knee would’ve sent him reeling. But…I didn’t. Even though I knew what I should do, I did the opposite.
Who could blame me? He smelled so nice, and his body? Perfection, rich kid blazer or not.
“Then help me understand,” I whispered back, a challenge to everything Sawyer was, everything he pretended to be. I knew he was empty inside with Sabrina’s absence; this was all just a show, but for whose benefit? Mine, or his?
Sawyer’s hard grip on my wrist loosened, traveling up my arms, his hands running up my bare skin, snaking down my back. He held onto me with an aggressive possessiveness, like he was claiming me, marking me as his. “I can do more than that,” he murmured, lips brushing against the tender flesh of my neck. A chill went up my back, and I practically melted in his grip.
My mind kept giving me giant neon warning signs reading Bad Idea, Ash and Turn Back Now, Before It’s Too Late, but my body? My body was on another wavelength, its sign reading: Hell Yeah, Time to Get Fucked.
I know, my body could be so crass sometimes.
He pressed his lips against my neck, and a fluttery, girlish sigh escaped me. He held me tighter to him, and though he was sitting down, his legs around me, I could feel the beginning traces of his hardness. Everything always came down to sex for people like Sawyer.
And people like me, I guess.
One of his hands curved around my ass, cupping my butt hard, fingers digging into my jeans. Suddenly it felt like I was both wearing too much and not enough. Since my own hands were free, I drew them along his shoulders, tugging his hair, keeping his face buried in my neck. He’d started to roam, and I knew the moment I looked into his hungry, half-lidded expression, it would all be over. My willpower to fight this would be over.
Hell, at this point, my body was asking, Sabrina who? Who cared what happened to her; she was dead now. There was no point in reminiscing about the past so much, or trying to get revenge. Why couldn’t we all just live in the now and move past this? Silly as it was, in this moment I felt like it was my duty to bring these broken, depressed souls back together, mend the broken bridges between Sawyer, Travis, and Declan.
So stupid, right? Not to mention rude. I might be a bitch sometimes, but only to those who deserve it. Sabrina didn’t deserve it. She was dead. Disrespecting a dead girl was a clear violation of human decency. I knew it was in short supply these days, but I tried my best when I could.
This…this couldn’t happen.
“Sawyer,” I croaked out his name, hating what I was about to say, not wanting to say it. The old me never would’ve stopped the sex; I would’ve just left after the sex had already happened. I know, I know. Look at me, turning over a new leaf. Crazy. Being around all these sad boys was making me seek to be a better person. It. Was. Disgusting.
“Mhmm,” he whispered against me, his breath hot on my throat. His lips roamed to my jawline, sending a thousand tiny tingles searing throughout me. My lower stomach clenched in anticipation, wanting this to continue…but it couldn’t.
I closed my eyes. “Stop.”
He didn’t stop.
He kept kissing along my jawline, nibbling my earlobe with precision, a type of soft, gentle touch that took time to master. He’d been in this position with a ton of girls—which, okay, wasn’t wrong in and of itself, and I’d didn’t view sex as a special thing to only do with someone I loved, but it didn’t exactly excite me to think that I was yet another notch on his bedpost. If he wanted to sleep with me, he had to work for it. The real problem with that would be keeping myself off him.
I was a horndog like no other, apparently.
It took every ounce of strength in my body to tug his head back by the hair. His blue eyes were semi-closed, his mouth hanging ajar. He didn’t look upset, just confused, like no girl had stopped him before. And, honestly, I bet no girl had. I mean, look at the guy. He oozed sex appeal, even with his half smirks and his cocky attitude. Every girl he’d ever been around had probably wanted to bang his brains out.
“I said stop,” I repeated myself, sounding much firmer, like I really meant to say it this time. When I met his stare, my stomach twisted.
Sawyer regained his cockiness within seconds, not letting me see the real him for long. “No one stops me,” he said, as if trying to convince me to let him continue.
The fingers on my right hand were still wound in his blonde hair, keeping his head back, lest he had any ideas to swoop back in. “I doubt you’ve ever met a girl like me before.” My words could be taken in more than one way.
