"I loved you more than I'd loved anyone ever," she whispers, holding onto the doorknob. "Even so, no amount of time changes what you did to my heart."
Sawyer disappears into the room, leaving me to take her words as fact. She can't forgive how I broke her heart. We're over.
I sit in my room for a long time and think about her words. They make sense. Why mess with wounds already scarred over?
Except her words are lies.
I know the sound of perfect words fitting the right situation. I say them all the time. I'm angry when others want me to be angry. I'm quiet when people need me to shut up. I'm the happiest guy in the fucking world when the world demands it.
Sawyer is afraid. Fear isn't something she's accustomed to feeling. Much like sorrow, she struggles to remain strong. So she lies. I fucked her over once, and she fears I'll do it again. So she lies. Life is complicated in Ellsberg. So she lies.
Even tired after a confusing day, I smile at Sawyer's lies. If her heart didn't still belong to me, she wouldn't need to play these games. I know because I've been lying about her for months.
I'm too restless to sleep, but too tired to return downstairs to talk with the others. I decide to take a shower. Now wearing boxers, I relax on the bed and flip through the channels. From my spot, I can see the mirror and consider cutting my hair. Would Sawyer be happier if I looked like the old Jace? Or was a haircut another superficial fix to our complicated problems?
I flip channels until hearing a knock on the door. I don't put on pants or a shirt. If the twins are bothering me, they'll likely compliment my abs. I'm sure they'll also explain how they can't fuck me since they're allergic to citrus or have a deep-seated fear of male nipples. I'll laugh, and they'll go away.
If Sawyer's at the door, I want her to see what she's missing.
Standing on the other side of the door, she looks depressed. I don't know what to expect when she pushes past me into the room. Shutting the door, I take in the sight of her wearing a pale yellow nightgown.
"I'm a moth, and you're the flame," she says, placing her hands on my chest. "Let's not make it more complicated than that."
I open my mouth to respond, but she covers it with her hand. "No talking or thinking. If you care at all about me, just let me have this."
I lift her up onto my hips and stare into her tired blue eyes. A moment passes where I think to stop this moment. Tonight is another lie, but Sawyer's dying to tell it, and I'm not strong enough to tell her no.
Made to fit together, our lips suck and nip at each other. My arms wrap her tightly against me while her hips search for my cock. I hold her still just long enough to pull her nightgown over her head. Sawyer whimpers when our lips part for even those few seconds.
All she says when I rest her back on the bed is to turn off the TV and lights. Once the lights are off, Sawyer pushes down my boxers. Her hand on my cock sends a shiver through me. Even in the dark, our bodies move easily. I know her in a way I don't even know myself.
Kissing the freckles on her shoulders, I can see them in my mind. I nuzzle her long, delicate neck next, eliciting a relieved sigh. My cock grows thick, but we don't rush. I tease her small, hard nipples before nibbling at her bellybutton. When I try to kiss lower, Sawyer squirms and pulls me up.
Our lips lock together again, and I breathe her in. She's mine in a way no woman can be. My body craves her until I'm painfully hard.
Still waiting for Sawyer to play cold, I hesitate when the head of my cock teases her wet pussy. She doesn't speak at my unasked question. Her only answer is the tightening of her legs around my hips.
As my cock moves deeper inside her, Sawyer exhales as if she's been holding her breath. I lean down to find her lips, and she meets my kiss with frenzied need. My hips move slowly, pulling out as far as I can before pressing inside her. I know Sawyer and her pussy. The way the flesh opens up more after she comes. Almost like paying with an orgasm to gain access to more pleasure.
My body remembers Sawyer. How to move my hips the way she likes. How to press down so the base of my cock caresses her clit. I know how fast to go until she needs me to slow. Our bodies behave as if we haven't spent even a second apart.
Sawyer comes quietly. Sex might be the only time she isn't demanding. Unless she's drunk. Then people can hear her a block away.
Her body opens up to me, and she sighs as my cock presses deeper inside her. Knowing I'll come soon, I want to tell her I love her. To say I'm sorry for fucking up months ago. I want to explain, but I have no answers. Sawyer doesn't want to hear them anyway. She wants lies. For tonight, I'll give them to her.
Chapter 31
Sawyer
Tuesday's Gone
Jace watches me in the darkness. He's studying my reactions. He needs to know I still sigh when he touches me this way or I groan when he fucks me that way. The man needs me to enjoy the sex more than he enjoys it himself. I used to find this quality irresistible. Now I hate him for it.