“Yes, ma’am,” he said, thrusting his hips forward and slamming home.
“Oh, God,” Kennedy moaned.
Sawyer leaned over her, rocking his hips forward while he placed his hand over her mouth to keep her quiet. “You don’t want your office help to hear you, do you?”
Kennedy shook her head at the same time she thrust back against him, lodging him deeper.
With his lips pressed to her ear, Sawyer said, “You like me fucking you over your desk, don’t you, you naughty girl? You’re so fucking hot, Kennedy. I can’t stop thinking about you, about this.” Sawyer withdrew and slammed into her again. “I dream about your tight, hot pussy caressing my dick. The way your muscles clamp down, pulling me deeper.” He slammed into her again, punctuating his next words by continuing to drill her from behind. “So. Fucking. Hot.”
Kennedy whimpered, her ass grinding against him.
“Think you can be quiet now? I need to stand up so I can get more leverage to fuck you the way you want me to.”
Kennedy nodded.
Sawyer stood up, gripping her hips and pulling her to him as he slammed into her over and over. Kennedy kept her arms firmly on her desk, her elbows locked as their bodies collided. When she reached around with one hand, her fingernails digging into his thigh, and doing her best to keep quiet, Sawyer nearly lost it. As hot as it was to fuck her senseless in her office with people not that far away, he still wished he could hear her demands. He loved how vocal she was, but for now, he would settle for this. And later—tonight—he would fuck her the right way.
“Kennedy,” he mumbled as softly as he could. “Reach down and rub your clit for me,” he instructed, biting his lip and focusing on the pain to keep from coming.
When her hand disappeared beneath her body and she began to moan softly, Sawyer knew she was close.
“That’s it, baby. I’m gonna come in your tight little cunt. Fuck.” He could barely hear his own words because he was desperately trying not to be too loud, but it was harder than hell. So instead, he simply focused on fucking her, digging his fingers into the soft flesh of her hips.
And when her body tensed, he let himself go, joining her as they plummeted right over the edge together.
chapter EIGHTEEN
By the time Friday rolled around, Kennedy found herself back at Moonshiners, this time with her father. They were sitting at the bar chatting as Mack worked behind it, his interactions a bit more frequent than usual. This time her father wasn’t on duty, so he was enjoying a beer while checking out the place.
Kennedy was on her second Midori Sour, trying to relax after a fairly challenging week. Not only had she been busy at work, but she’d also spent three nights with Sawyer, which had resulted in very little sleep over a several-day period. Not that she could complain all that much because truthfully, she’d had more orgasms in the past week than she’d had in her lifetime. That didn’t mean she wasn’t exhausted though. Being with Sawyer, while fantastic, was very taxing. Physically anyway.
Although she was enjoying the light back-and-forth banter between Mack and Jeff, even if she was probably the only one paying attention to them, she really just wanted to go home and crawl into bed. She had to be at work early, which meant tonight she should’ve been beneath her blankets at this point, yet she wasn’t. And part of the reason for that was the man who had just walked into the building, garnering a round of cheers from the locals.
Well, from most of the locals. Kennedy felt her father stiffen beside her as he muttered something beneath his breath. There was positively no question about it, her father was still pissed at Sawyer. Which was the main reason she hadn’t mentioned anything about the two of them. Not to him, not to anyone.
Kennedy couldn’t help twisting on her stool to look at the handsome man walking toward her with a crooked smile on his face. He was wearing his signature cowboy hat, and those damn sexy jeans that showcased his muscular thighs and lean hips, along with a white T-shirt—although it was downright cold outside—which accentuated his broad, hard chest.
“Hey,” Sawyer acknowledged when he came to a stop directly beside her. He didn’t reach down and kiss her the way he had when he greeted her at her house every day that week, but he did stand fairly close, his eyes focused on her.
“Hey,” she said softly, feeling her father’s eyes on the back of her head. She prayed that he didn’t say anything to Sawyer.
“Sheriff Endsley,” Sawyer greeted formally, reaching around Kennedy and holding out his hand.
Her father didn’t return the gesture.
“Dad,” Kennedy admonished. “Don’t be rude.”