Or herself.
chapter SIXTEEN
When Kennedy woke up, she noticed two things immediately.
One: the sun was up, the rays slipping in through the crack in the black curtains over her windows.
Two: Sawyer was not in her bed.
Rolling over, she stared at the ceiling, sighing heavily.
She should’ve known it would happen. Why she thought she could possibly change a man like Sawyer, she had no idea. Rather than dwell on it, she forced her legs over the side of the bed and went to the bathroom. She needed a shower and then she needed coffee.
Lots and lots of coffee.
She didn’t waste time washing up and rinsing off, not even bothering to leave the conditioner in her hair for more than a minute before she was rinsing, then climbing out and drying off. She grabbed her robe, forgoing clothes because she couldn’t muster up the strength to dig them out of her closet.
It wasn’t until she opened her bedroom door and smelled something cooking that she realized she wasn’t alone. Which meant Sawyer was still there. Stepping out of her room, she tiptoed toward the living room, hoping to sneak up on him before he saw her.
“Holy shit!” she screamed when Sawyer stepped into the hall directly in front of her, a huge smile on his face. “You scared the hell out of me.”
“Mornin’ to you, too,” he said easily, leaning down and pressing his lips to hers. “I hope you’re hungry.”
She was starving, but she couldn’t get words to form as she stared at the shirtless man standing before her in nothing but his jeans. If she thought he’d looked good enough to eat last night, well, this morning he looked . . . God, he was hot.
And clearly her brain had gone off-line because that was the only thought that flitted through her mind as she stared back at him blankly.
It wasn’t until he took her hand, pulling her through the house to the kitchen, that she finally found her voice. “You cooked breakfast?”
“Yeah,” he said, shooting her a look over his shoulder as he made his way to the oven, grabbing one of the hot pads before opening it and pulling out a pan of biscuits.
“By yourself?” she asked, unable to take her eyes off him.
He chuckled. “I’m a grown man, Kennedy. I know how to take care of myself. And you’ve met my mama. If I didn’t know how to cook, she’d have my hide.”
Kennedy watched him intently. He moved around her kitchen effortlessly, as though he’d done it a million times before. He looked so natural there, almost like he belonged.
She forced the thought away, stepping aside when he came toward the table, setting the pan down. It was then that she noticed he had also made bacon and he’d placed the honey and butter on the table, along with the carton of orange juice and two glasses.
“Close your mouth, darlin’,” Sawyer said, chuckling.
Kennedy closed her mouth, glaring over at him.
When he returned to the table, he stopped in front of her, grabbing the edges of her robe and pulling her to him. His lips brushed against hers and she fought the urge to throw her arms around him and climb his body. She wasn’t sure what he’d done to her, but sometime between his showing up on her doorstep and then banging her senseless against her living room wall, Sawyer had managed to turn her into a horny slut. She could hardly think for wanting him.
And that wasn’t like her at all.
“What do you have on underneath this robe?” he asked, brushing his mouth against her ear as he slid one hand down her chest, dipping beneath the cotton. Her nipple instantly pebbled when he touched her. “Oh, yeah, I could get used to this,” he mumbled as he licked her earlobe, nipping gently.
Another nearly violent shudder rocked her.
“But first we eat,” he said, standing to his full height and backing away from her. He acted as though he hadn’t just made her pussy wet and her body heat a million degrees.
The bastard.
He lowered himself to one of the chairs and then patted his legs. “Sit.”
“On your lap?” she asked incredulously.
“Yes,” he said, his tone firm.
For whatever reason, her feet began to move before her brain could catch up, and the next thing she knew, she was trying to sit on his lap. He stopped her.
“Not like that,” he said when she turned sideways. “Straddle me.”
Kennedy swallowed hard, her mouth suddenly completely dry.
Sawyer reached for her then, pulling her close as he closed his knees together, forcing her to spread her legs or run into him. Then she was straddling him, doing her best to hold her robe closed to keep herself covered.
“Nuh-uh,” he said gruffly, reaching for the tie on her robe and easily untying it.