For You

Chapter SEVENTEEN

When we got to my apartment building, he kept a distance between us that I appreciated. I didn't need anyone in the building thinking he was anything more than a friend.

We didn't see anyone on the walk up the stairwell to my apartment, which was a relief.

This time, I gave him a proper tour around the apartment. I showed him the small living room, and he nodded and said everything was nice. I started to walk back toward the kitchen, but he stopped me, grabbing my hand in his.

“Already seen the kitchen last time,” he said. “Especially the table.”

“Right.” I looked down at my feet as I blushed at the memory.

Squeezing my hand, he said, “We can just sit and talk for a bit. No pressure.”

“Is that what you want?” I asked.

“No.” He stared into me, his eyes full of intense, sea-green fire. His shoulders were so broad, and he looked enormous standing in my small hallway.

I whispered, “Tell me what you want.”

He said, “I want to take off all your clothes and lick and suck every inch of your body. I want to feel you quiver with pleasure, and maybe we bang the headboard into the wall a few times. Or not. It's all up to you how much pleasure you want, but I've already had lunch, so you should know I'm fueled up and ready to ride for hours.”

I had no response for that, except that it sounded too good to be true. I turned and led the way into my bedroom. I didn't usually make my bed, but that morning I had, perhaps because deep in my heart I knew this was inevitable.

Sawyer pulled the drugstore box from his jacket pocket and set it on my nightstand, not taking his eyes off me. He dropped his jacket to the floor, then off came everything else.

I turned to the side, feeling shy about seeing him naked. I took off most everything, but stopped at my bikini. My arms folded across my chest, I said, “Mind if I keep something on for a bit?”

He crawled up onto my double-sized bed and rolled onto his side, propping his head up casually with one arm.

“I'm yours,” he said. “Come here and kiss me before I die from wanting you.”

I climbed onto the bed with him and cuddled up next to his completely naked body. With one hand, I explored the crease between his chest muscles, and then down his ab muscles. He closed his eyes, and I moved my hand down further, burying my fingertips in the hair that began below his navel. He held very still as I reached down further and grasped him around the shaft, and then he pressed himself into my hand, encouraging me to stroke him.

His eyes fluttered open, and he leaned forward enough to meet my lips with his. He rested one hand on my hip, over top of my bikini bottoms, and kissed me deeply and thoroughly. I found myself making small sighs, and my body shifting to be closer to his.

He rolled onto his back and pulled me with him, pulled me on top the way we'd been at the beach. This time, though, we weren't in public and we didn't need to stop.

I let go of his cock and adjusted my body over his, rocking my hips as his erection nestled in the hollow between my hip bone and pubic bone.

The tip of his cock moistly kissed against my skin as I nudged up and down on his body, our mouths locked together.

No longer nervous, I reached back and untied the top of my bikini. I tossed it aside, then shifted down his body, kissing his neck and Adam's apple, and then down his smooth chest. I found one nipple with my lips and sucked until it was small and hard, then did the same to the other.

Sawyer's breathing was shallow, his body tense and still, like a pond with small ripples coming from the life beneath. I moved down further, tasting the salty sweat of his flesh, smelling the musk of his body. His scent intoxicated me, arousing my hunger.

I licked a trail down his stomach, then gripped his hard cock in one hand and plunged the tip into my mouth.

He groaned and clutched the bed covers as I sucked and pulsed him within my mouth.

“Slow down,” he begged.

I eased him out of my mouth and lovingly ran the tip of my tongue up and down the length of him, teasing around the edge of the head before plunging him in and out of my wet mouth.

His cock was hard and responsive, straining.

Gasping, he pushed me away. “Intense,” he said, and as we made eye contact, I felt the intensity, too.

I went limp, falling to the bed, weak with desire. Take me, I pleaded with my eyes.

He climbed on top of me, and old memories bubbled up. I was in my little bed, in that stinking plywood room.

I pulled my knees together and squirmed out to roll sideways. I clenched my eyes shut.

“Aubrey? Is this too fast?”

He rubbed his fingers tenderly along my cheek. I opened my eyes and saw him. Sawyer Jones. He was good, and kind, and being so gentle. I was in my apartment, not the old trailer.

Nodding, I said, “Slower would be better.”

“I agree,” he said, and he stretched out alongside me, relaxed. “You're so perfect. So beautiful.”

I grabbed his hand in mine and kissed his fingertips.

Sawyer. I was in bed with him, and he was a good guy. I wanted this.

I ran his fingertips down over my breast. He smiled as he traced lines around my nipple.

He whispered, “Does this feel good?”

I nodded, yes, and pushed his hand down further, so his fingers slipped under the edge of my bikini bottoms.

“Still good?” he asked.

I held my hand over my face in embarrassment as I blushed. “Really good.” My body was so warm and sure, and the fear that had crept up on me was completely gone.

Now he was in control, and I nodded after each question. Could he take off my bikini bottoms? Yes. Could he touch me like this? Yes. Deeper? Yes. Harder? Yes.

With his fingers, he took me to the edge of orgasm. Teetering on the brink, I put my hand on top of his to stop him. Take me, I thought as I stared into his eyes.

He understood, and reached for the condoms.

When he plunged into me, I cried out so loud he stopped.

“Did I hurt you?”

No. Not physically. I shook my head. “Feels so good,” I whispered.

He shuddered at my words and pulled back, catching his breath.

I whimpered and angled my hips up, splaying my legs out so he could go deeper.

He kissed my arm and shoulder, then took a deep breath and started moving again.

I didn't want to startle him and have him stop, so I grabbed onto his buttocks with both hands and helped drive him into me as I cried out for more.

After a few strokes, he got the idea and stopped holding back.

I didn't know if I'd be able to come with him on top like that, just from his cock, but it felt so good, I didn't want to stop. Then I didn't have to worry, because I was coming, multi-colored lights flashing behind my eyes as I quivered and shook and cried out beneath his big, muscular body.

He was sweating now, the muscles of his neck bulging out as he kept moving, rocking into me with pleasure.

He swore, gritted his teeth, and moaned as he also came, his cock impossibly hard and shuddering inside me.

My fingertips were digging into his thick back muscles, and I relaxed my hands and arms. I moved my hands down to his firm buttocks and gave them a squeeze. He shook, as though surprised, and then let out a nervous laugh.

I turned my head to the side and kissed his ear, where his head was buried face-down in the blankets next to me.

He pulled back, red-faced, and blinked at me. “So much for hours of riding,” he said.

I smiled up at him, and not just with my mouth, but with my whole body. The entire room—the entire world—was smiling.

“I really don't need hours,” I said. “That was perfect.”

He reached down and held onto the base of the condom as he carefully withdrew. “We can always go again later. Give me a few minutes.”

I turned to the side and looked at my digital alarm clock.

The readout made no sense. It was two-thirty already? How could that be?

I sat up quickly, heart pounding. “Shit! I have to get Bell at three.” I got up and started hunting around for clothes. “Oh, dammit, how am I going to get there in time?”

“I'll give you a ride,” Sawyer said calmly.

“Don't be ridiculous,” I snapped. “You can't put her on your bike.”

“Aubrey.” His tone was serious.

I looked up, angry that this man was naked, on my bed, chiding me. What if I'd fallen asleep and forgotten to go get her?

“I'll drop you off,” he said. “The two of you can walk back here like usual. I can even drop you around the corner, so she doesn't see me.”

I clapped my hand to my forehead. “Of course. I'm sorry. I just… wasn't thinking.”

Looking defeated, he got up, grabbed his clothes from the floor, and shuffled off to the bathroom.

This wasn't at all how I expected today to go.

Or was it?

Maybe I hadn't expected this, but I'd foreseen disaster of some sort. Since I ran away with Bell, not many guys had been interested in dating me, but with the ones who did, something like this always happened.

The worst part wasn't them ending the relationship. Not at all. The worst part was that in order to make themselves feel better, they made me out to be the bad person. The crazy, emotional woman with all the unreasonable demands. Never mind that I hardly ever asked for anything.

They couldn't see themselves as the users they were, taking what they wanted and then moving on to the next girl. They were in denial of their dark hearts, that they would “pump and dump” a young single mother. So, there'd be some small incident that would be inflated to something bigger than it was. I'd lose my temper, just for a moment, and they'd seize their opportunity. They'd tip their heads and give me that smug look. Aubrey, you're giving me no choice but to break it off with you.

This had happened twice over the last three years. I'd deluded myself into thinking I could have a casual relationship without Bell knowing, but both times had been a disaster.

The problem wasn't her. It was me.

First Damion, and then the next two guys.

The common factor in all those wrecks was me.



The first night Damion came by the trailer while my mother and Derek were out, we just kissed at first, then he put his hand down my pants. I was only fifteen, and I wasn't close to any girls at school, so I had no idea about sex in real life. To my surprise, I liked how Damion made me feel.

After that, he'd come by once or twice a week, usually when my mother and Derek were out, but even if they were home, he'd casually ask if he could watch our television, since his satellite wasn't working properly.

As soon as we were alone together, he'd have his hands down my pants in a hot minute.

“Almost sweet sixteen,” he'd moan as he kissed my neck and made me feel like my head was going to explode.

He was twenty, and at the time I thought I was pretty hot shit to have a twenty-year-old interested in me. Damion got me hooked on him. With his tongue in my mouth and his hand down my pants, he made me come, so many times.

I resisted letting him go “all the way,” but then he started showing less interest, coming around less often. So, one night, it just happened. I mean, I let it happen. I had on my best underwear, so I had to live with knowing some part of me had planned it.

When he put it in, the pain really surprised me. Touching had felt so good up to that point, and despite what I'd heard about losing your virginity, I thought it would be different for us. I asked him to stop, but he shushed me. I asked again, and he glared down at me.

We were in my bed, in my little unheated bedroom. Summer was almost there, but the room still had that damp chill that never really went away. My bed was narrow—a child's bed—and it made a terrible squeaking I was afraid might wake up Bell.

Damion glared down at me, with his dark brown eyes that looked almost black at night like this. He had the same dark, straight hair as his father. Red-faced and frustrated like this, he looked exactly like Derek, which made me feel terrified in that moment.

“I'll slow down,” he said. “But I ain't stoppin'. Just hang in there, it'll get better in a minute, trust me.”

“Okay.”

“Tell me you love me.”

I forced myself to say it. “I love you.”

He kept going, and it didn't get better, but it didn't get worse, either.

A girl who knew better, and wasn't so desperate to be loved by someone would have stopped fooling around with Damion as of that night. I could have said no to him, and I could have put the deadbolt across the door so he couldn't let himself in.

But I didn't know any better, or maybe I just didn't care. I was ready for the world and whatever it had in store for me, even if it meant getting hurt. I was ready to hurl myself into that pain, just to see what happened.