Kennedy looked at him, seemingly contemplating what that meant before leaning down and snatching up her jeans. When he held his hand out to her, she reluctantly took it before leading him toward the back of the house.
She pushed open one of the doors and for the first time he saw Kennedy’s bedroom. Call him crazy, but he’d actually given a lot of thought to what her bedroom looked like. In his head, she would’ve had soft white curtains, maybe a white comforter. What he saw was the opposite of that.
“Nice,” he told her as he took in her room.
Her furniture didn’t match the house, but somehow it looked right in her bedroom. Modern and black, the king-sized bed sat proudly, centered between two windows. There were black curtains over wood blinds, and a white comforter with large black flowers on it. He might’ve gotten most of it wrong, but he was right about one thing. There were at least a dozen pillows on the bed, all sitting perfectly aligned.
“You made your bed,” he said absently.
Kennedy’s smirk caused something warm to fill his chest. It was an emotion he wasn’t exactly familiar with. Not in this capacity anyway. But he didn’t mind it one bit.
When she turned to him, her hands sliding up over his chest, he sucked in a breath. Her hands were cool and soft and he wanted more than anything to be inside her again, but this time, he didn’t want to rush things.
“Mind if I . . .” Sawyer nodded toward the bathroom.
“Not at all,” she said, taking a step back.
Sawyer headed for the bathroom. He took care of business then cleaned up, staring at his reflection in the mirror. His shirt was open, and he leaned forward, trying to get a better look at . . . Yep, those were scratches on his chest.
And the memory of Kennedy putting them there, her hands raking over him while he’d plowed into her, made his dick twitch behind the zipper of his jeans. Looking down at his feet, he realized he still had his boots on. He was tempted to take them off, but he figured he should probably check with Kennedy first. As much as he wanted to believe the decision to stay was his to make, he knew better. More than anything, Sawyer wanted to stay. He wanted to stay the night, wanted to make love to her a dozen more times before the dawn came. And then, after they were both too tired to move, he wanted to spend the rest of the day in her bed, holding her in his arms.
Stepping out of the bathroom, Sawyer steeled himself for anything she could’ve possibly thrown at him.
Well, anything except . . . that.
“Lord have mercy,” he whispered, staring at the beautiful, auburn-haired bombshell that was laid out on her bed like a feast.
“I figured we’d try to do this the right way,” she said huskily, pulling his eyes up to her face.
“Yeah?” he asked, not sure what the hell she just said. He was too busy admiring her long, lean body with all of those glorious curves. She was . . . “Perfect.”
“Come here,” she insisted, her tone firm.
Sawyer shook his head, trying to regain some of his composure, before pulling his shirt off at the same time he toed off his boots. She did not have to tell him twice. Within a minute, he was standing beside the bed stark naked and it was her turn to look, which she did. He loved that she wasn’t shy about it, either.
Taking a step closer, Sawyer reached out to touch her. Just one finger though. He used his right index finger and trailed a line up her body, starting at her toes, the top of her foot, her shin, her sexy knee. Smooth, creamy skin called to him and he suddenly had the urge to taste her.
Everywhere.
Rather than jump on the bed and cover her with his body, Sawyer made a detour to the bottom of the bed. She had pulled the comforter back and he did one better, yanking it off the bed and tossing it to the floor at his feet. He offered her a smile, which allowed him to meet her eyes. The answering heat that glimmered in the soft gray depths spurred him on. Gripping both of her ankles, he pulled her toward him. Her startled gasp made him laugh.
“I’m gonna feast on you for a little while,” he told her.
“Oh yeah?” she questioned, her voice quivering slightly.
Rather than go into detail, which he would’ve been more than happy to do, Sawyer lifted her legs, propping them over his shoulders as he bent down. Running his fingers over the smooth skin of her mound—she waxed and he fucking loved that more than he could express—separating her slick folds, teasing her clit only briefly before sliding his finger down to her entrance.
Leaning all the way forward, he practically bent her in half before he slid his tongue through her sweetness, licking her slowly at first. He wasn’t in a hurry, that was for damn sure.