Love Me Reckless (Love Me Dangerous #2)

Chapter 37

Chapter Thirty-Seven

KIRILEE

By the time we finally leave the sheriff’s department, it’s almost one in the morning. The night air is so still and cold, seeping through my clothes.

I’ve told the story about how Sheldon lured me to Grayhawk at least ten times, but it doesn’t get any easier. Sawyer stayed glued to my side, holding my hand, reassuring me that what happened wasn’t my fault.

I thought I could help Sheldon, but he chose differently.

Sawyer’s been getting regular updates from the hospital about Sheldon’s condition. What he’s hearing isn’t good.

Pain vibrates up my ankle as I navigate the steps to the parking lot.

Sawyer must notice my grimace because he stops halfway and crouches in front of me. “Hop on.”

I silence the protest on my lips and drape my arms across his broad back. Though he’s likely so weary right now after this exhausting night, I get the sense he could carry me a hundred miles.

“This is how I first met you, do you remember?” I say.

He gently hoists me onto his back, cradling my thighs at his sides. “I’ll never forget it.”

“You saw Birch with someone in the back of the kitchen,” I say as he carries me down the steps and across the empty parking lot.

“I wasn’t totally sure it was him, but I suspected.”

I rest my head on his shoulder. “You’ve been my hero all along, haven’t you?”

He sets me down gently at my door, but it’s hard to let him go, so I wrap my arms around his waist and hold on. “Do you want to go to the hospital?”

He heaves a giant sigh and pulls my arms tighter around him. “No. Can we go to the vacation house? I want to share some things with you, and I’m going to need to hold you when I do.”

“Of course.” I love him so much for trusting me it hurts.

He spins in my embrace and presses his lips to my forehead in a soft kiss. I sigh, my exhaustion like a heavy cloak.

We drive the quiet streets to the lakeshore neighborhood with our thighs touching the way we’ve become accustomed. I try to tap into what he’s feeling—his brother’s betrayal, and what he risked tonight while the pieces of us shift and settle, the edges raw and jagged.

I lean into him and he releases a gentle sigh, bringing my hand to his knee and covering it with his. There’s a lingering metallic scent from the gunpowder in our clothes, and throughout the questioning at the station, I picked out tiny pieces of glass from my hair. I know Sawyer’s got blood on him too. It makes me feel awful and grateful all at once for his courage and for what he did tonight.

Awful because someone he cares about is hurt.

Grateful because of his instinct to protect me. It could have been him on the floor, the blood pooling around him.

When we pull into the driveway, Sawyer’s phone rings.

He checks the screen for the caller ID and gulps a breath before answering .

The voice on the other end of the line sounds tinny and fast. Sawyer’s shoulders sag and he pinches the bridge of his nose.

“Thank you for calling,” Sawyer says, his voice thick with loss.

He tucks his phone into his pocket. “He’s gone.”

“I’m so sorry.”

Sawyer jumps down and walks around the front to greet me, lifting me down with both hands on my waist. We hold each other for a long moment, and then he carries me inside.

The house is warm, like it’s been waiting for us. We leave our shoes by the door and I help him with his coat.

“Come with me,” I say, and lead him down the hall, ignoring the throb in my ankle.

It’s my turn to take care of him.

Inside the bedroom, our things are just as we left them, but they look foreign, like they belong to someone else.

I pause at the bed to tug off his thick sweater. His eyes are that same calm edged with sorrow that thickens the lump in my throat. He helps me with my clothes, which we discard in a pile at the foot of the bed. I take his hand and walk him into the big shower.

When the hot water rains down, he pulls me into his arms. I hold him, my cheek pressed to his chest, the gooseflesh on our skin softening in the steam. He caresses down my bare back, his rib cage expanding into my chest with his slow breaths. I fill my palm with soap and lather it over his shoulders and neck, then down his arms and over the rug burn on his knuckles.

“Close your eyes,” I rock to my tippy toes on my good foot so I can reach the crown of his head. I scrub with my fingertips while he grips my waist, like he needs me to keep him steady.

When I turn him to the water, he leans back, the hard planes of his face softening as I rinse, running my fingers through his thick hair.

“Your turn.” His smile is tentative, but there’s a flicker of warmth in his eyes. I want it to mean that he’s coming back to me.

He scrubs my hair, taking his time, using too much shampoo. Closing my eyes heightens the sensation of his caring touch, the water cascading down my back, the soap tickling my skin. He conditions my hair and rinses again, combing through the long strands until the water runs clear. I arch back to rinse my face. I feel his lips on my neck, the brush of his stubble along the edge of my jaw as he squeezes my earlobe with his teeth. A jolt of desire pierces my core, sending a gentle warmth through me. He wraps his arms around my waist, his erection firm and hard against me, his kisses turning hungry.

He traces my collarbone with kisses, then my shoulder, then down to my breasts.

He sighs, closing his eyes as he teases me, his lips so soft and wet. Tingles dance across my skin, the sense of delicate surrender rising through me. He shuffles me backwards to the wall, the thick glass blocks cold on my warm skin, drawing goosebumps. My breaths hitch in my throat as I pull him to me, my craving like a wild thing rousing from a deep sleep. Our lips touch, and I savor his tenderness, his vulnerability. Our tongues swirl and tease in a tempting dance, the heat of his body against mine creating a powerful hunger.

He kisses down, dropping to his knees and parting me with his tongue. Tremors rattle through me, the pleasure so intense. I steady myself against the wall with one hand and grip his hair with the other.

He groans, the vibrations humming through me. His tongue is relentless, drawing every ounce of pleasure from my body. I come with a cry, his name on my lips, shuddering from the waves of shock and joy exploding inside me. Sawyer plants quick kisses up my body, lifting me off my feet, pinning me to the glass.

His eyes are tense with need. “I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve you.”

Emotions take flight inside me as I caress his face. “Just being you. That’s enough.”

He kisses me, his lips lingering on mine. And then he arches his body so he’s pressed against me. I wrap my legs around him, the anticipation sharp and unrelenting, like a physical pain.

“Sawyer,” I say on a groan.

“I’m here, sweetheart,” he says, driving inside, bringing all my cravings to life. The fullness of him is perfect, exactly what I need.

“This okay?” he asks, cupping my thighs, bringing us closer.

I open my mouth but the words melt on my tongue as he touches the deepest part of me. “Yes,” I pant. “More.”

He thrusts again, harder this time, his grip tightening around my thighs. The cold wall at my back coupled with the heat from his body, our skin slippery from the water, creates the most incredible sensations. Like I’m dancing in the rain or falling through stars.

I wrap my arms around his neck and grip him with my thighs, holding him close as I come undone. My heart is a spinning top, zipping faster and faster, the colors around me turning vivid and sharp.

“That’s it, give me everything,” Sawyer grits out.

I bury my face in his neck, my cries amplified by the tight space. The tension inside me breaks loose, sending quivers down my thighs and heat prickles across my skin. Pleasure melts through me bright and so wonderfully sweet. Sawyer comes in a series of firm thrusts, impaling me against the cold wall, until his body goes still and we hold each other tight, the pounding of his heart synching with mine.

He gulps a ragged breath as aftershocks judder through him. Carefully, he sets me on my feet. The hollow between my thighs gives an almost painful ache that coils up through me, making it impossible for me to let him go. He wraps his arms around me as a sob rattles his frame.

“It’s okay,” I say. “Give me everything.”

He cries softly into my hair as the water crashes on the tiles and I hold him tight. When he’s spent, he tips my chin and lowers to kiss me, his lips plush and thick against mine, the tenderness so rich and precious. I kiss him back, embracing his lip with mine, drawing a groan from deep inside him .

We get out of the shower and he dries me with the big, fluffy towels, exhaustion edging his eyes, then leads me to the big bed. Under the covers, he pulls me to him, rolling my hip against his and urging my thigh across him. We caress and touch in the darkness, the heat building slowly between us.

“I came so close to losing you today.” He presses his lips to my forehead.

I wrap my arm tighter around him. “I can’t help thinking the same thing.”

He releases a long breath, his fingertips grazing my lower back.

“Sheldon’s done this kind of thing before, hasn’t he?” I ask.

“Never as bad as this, but yeah.”

“That must hurt so much.”

“I should have put a stop to it long ago.”

This feels like an old narrative. A sensitive one. “Could you have?”

“Our mom’s death is my fault.”

The words sound dull in my ears, like he’s talking from some faraway place. Sharing this must be so painful, bringing these old memories into the light. Offering them to me like fragile, broken pieces of his deepest, darkest place.

I prop myself on my elbow so I can see his face. “How can that be? You were so young.”

He releases a shaky breath, his eyes refusing to meet mine. “When Shel came to town, he threatened to tell you. It’s what he always does when he’s really hard up. I should have told you then. I should have told you long ago. Instead I was desperate to hide it from you. So much so that I put you in danger.”

I stroke his shoulder. “This sounds like a heavy burden.”

Finally, he looks at me, the usual calm in his eyes edged with grief and sadness. “The night Mom died, Shel’s dad had come around. Wes never liked me, and the feeling was mutual. I took off and got wasted with my friends. But something happened that night. She was such a little thing. And I wasn’t there to protect her. ”

The pain he’s experiencing rattles through me. “That’s how she died?”

“Yeah. Wes went to prison, but I’ve always blamed myself.”

“Because you weren’t there?” I caress his face. “Sawyer, you were so young.”

“I tried to take care of Shel,” he says like he hasn’t heard me. His eyes turn glassy. “To make it up to him. But he never got over it. And now he’s gone.”

“Why would you feel the need to hide this from me?”

“I’m afraid you’ll see me for who I really am,” he says in the darkness.

“But… I already do,” I say. I kiss him softly, showing him with my heart that it’s okay to let this go. He closes his eyes and combs my long hair from my shoulders. I plant soft kisses down his neck to his chest, shifting my position so I’m between his thighs. His chest is firm and warm against my lips. I move lower, caressing and kissing past his navel, the soft line of hair tickling my nose. His erection stiffens between my breasts, sending a hot flush of desire down my thighs, drawing everything tight inside me.

Sawyer releases a needy purr. “Kirilee,” he says, his tone sharp with longing.

I stroke him while I kiss lower, guided by the bright and furious love growing so fast inside my heart it’s going to burst.

“Everything,” I say, gazing up at him.

The fear in his eyes fades, replaced by a tender fire. “Baby,” he groans, and rolls up to cradle my face and kiss me. Our lips embrace in a clash of heat and swirling tongues. I groan into his mouth, and he tries to urge me closer, but I gently push him back. I asked for everything, and I’m not turning back now.

When I draw him into my mouth, Sawyer gives a soft sigh, like a surrender.

He’s so smooth and thick. Perfect. The salty-sweet of his arousal sharp on my tongue .

Sawyer rises on his elbow and combs back my hair. “Your mouth. Fuck.” His breathing quickens.

I close my eyes savor the way he’s trusting me with so much. I hold onto it, cradle it inside me. I won’t let him carry this shame any longer. I won’t let him think there’s any part of him I don’t love.

“I’m going to come in this pretty mouth of yours,” he grits out. “You want that, princess?”

I hum my reply. “You know I do.”

He gathers my hair, gently urging me on. I give into all the ways that I love him, letting my heart lead. Sawyer gives a soft whimper. It’s so pure and free, like his fear is slipping away.

With a shudder, he comes, the taste of him earthy-sweet. Panting, he urges me up and wraps his arms around me, his heart hammering against my breast. He pulls the covers over us and strokes my back.

“I’ve wanted you for so long,” he whispers. “If this is a dream, don’t wake me up.”

We fall asleep tangled up in each other.

He wakes me some time in the night with his kisses and gentle caresses, stirring my hunger before I’m even fully aware of it. We make love again in the darkness, his kisses everywhere and his body so strong and beautiful.

“That first night, I wanted to kiss you,” he says. “To make that wish come true.”

“That kiss in your truck was worth the wait,” I say, smiling up at him.

His face turns serious. “I want to make all of your wishes come true.”

Tiny pinpricks of pain and hope sharpen inside me. “You already have.”

He smiles as a tear glistens in his eye and drops to my cheek. “We’re going to need more wishes.”

“I like that idea.” I tug on the back of his neck, drawing him to me for a kiss. “I love you, Sawyer.”

His breath catches. “I love you so much. ”

“Nothing comes between us again,” I say.

He kisses me, his lips plush and tender. “No holding back.”

“We give each other everything. Always.”

“Always, princess.”

When I wake in the morning, with sunlight cresting the snowy horizon, Sawyer is caressing my fingers draped across his chest.

“Your ring,” he says. “It’s gone.”

If I had given it to Sheldon when he first asked, would the events of last night have unfolded like they did?

“For good.”

Sawyer releases a slow, satisfied sigh. I tuck my cheek against his chest and hold him.