Head Over Heels (18 page)

“If I cuff you,” he said, “the inn is the last place you’ll be headed.”

She laughed softly. “You’re such a tease. You climb up here in uniform often?”

“Almost never.”

She looked at him, that damn concern in her eyes again. “You really do look beat.”

“I am.” He unbuckled his utility belt and set it on a rock.

“Don’t stop there,” she said.

“Right, and end up on Facebook.”

Chloe laughed. “Lucille wouldn’t do that to you.”

“Only because she knows I’d arrest her.”

“Sure you would.” Her smile faded, replaced by a thoughtful frown. “Why is that, I wonder?”

“Why what?”

“Lucille loves to shout to the world what you do as Sheriff Thompson, but the private life of Sawyer seems to be off-limits. She never outs you about anything.”

“Nothing to tell. I’m always on the job.”

“No, seriously. Remember that day you changed her tire? She was telling me all about your younger years, then totally clammed up when she got to your teens.”

No, he wasn’t tabloid material anymore, thank God. And he owed a big thanks to Lucille for that. “I’m too tired to have that conversation with you right now.” Or ever.

“So…you’re off duty.”

“Finally, yes.”

“Good.” She rose to her knees at his side and tugged at his shirt, indicating she wanted him to lose it.

He shouldn’t, but he must have been even farther gone than he’d thought, because he peeled out of his Kevlar vest, his uniform shirt, then the T-shirt he wore beneath, setting everything on top of his growing pile.

She ran her gaze over his chest with frank appreciation. Then he shivered, realizing he hadn’t really considered the weather. It was forty-five degrees max, but Chloe was giving him a go-on gesture with her hand.

“All I have left is my pants,” he said.

“Yes, please.”

“It’s cold, Chloe.”

She tilted her head. “Are you worried about shrinkage?”

Well, he was now.

“I’ve already seen the goods, remember? Trust me, Sheriff, you have nothing to worry about.”

Sawyer laughed in spite of himself, then went still when she straddled him. Before he could so much as blink, she’d bent and kissed his collarbone. Then a pec. She touched her tongue to his skin, and he shivered again.
Not
from the cold. “Chloe.” That was all he managed to get out. His hands were on her hips, gripping her tight as she shifted over an inch and licked his nipple. He sucked in a breath.

“It looked cold,” she whispered and blew a warm breath over his damp skin.

He shuddered, the cold air the last thing on his mind now, as she rocked slowly over the obvious bulge behind his zipper.

“I thought I wanted to be alone,” she said, grinding on him until his eyes rolled to the back of his head.

“I know,” he managed, tipping her face up to meet his gaze. “But I didn’t want you to be.”

She smiled. “I like that about you. You listen to everyone, but then come to your own conclusions and do whatever the hell you want.”

“If you knew what I wanted to do right now, you’d probably be shoving me off this bluff.”

“Don’t count on it.” She rose a little and covered his mouth with hers.

The kiss rocked his socks off. Or it would have, if he’d been wearing any. He pulled back and looked into her eyes. She was definitely no longer feeling lonely or sad, or anything negative at all. Her eyes were soft and…dreamy.

Dreamy was troubling, because it was more than just lust. Dreamy meant things he couldn’t deliver, such as his own emotions. It wasn’t that he couldn’t feel things for her. He could, and did.

God, he did.

He just had no idea what to do with them. “Chloe—”

“I was thinking about your shower,” she said, nuzzling her face against his jaw. “I was sort of hoping to find you there.”

“We never did finish what we started that day.”

Chloe smiled against him. “Maybe ‘we’ didn’t finish, but I sure did.”

He laughed. So did she. And then somehow they were kissing again. “Hold on,” he said, regretfully pulling back. “We can’t.”

“Sorry. That word doesn’t compute.”

He let out another low laugh and tightened his grip on her when she nipped at his throat. “I’m not risking you having another post-orgasm asthma attack while we’re way up here on the rocks,” he murmured, groaning when she rocked the hottest part of her over the hardest part of him.

“I have a better idea,” she whispered.

Oh, good. One of them could still think. “What?”

She pulled her inhaler from her back pocket and waved it at him. Leaning over him, she lightly kissed first one corner of his mouth, then the other. “And I want you,” she whispered, her mouth brushing his with each word. “So much. Please? Please, Sawyer…”

This was her idea? To beg? Because first, that really worked for him. And second…hell. He couldn’t remember.

Chapter 19

C
hloe lost herself in Sawyer’s embrace. It wasn’t a surprise, the man could kiss like nobody’s business. She was floating on waves of pleasure and desire when he pulled back. “Not here,” he said again, putting his gear back on to climb down. “Not on a sandy rock in fifty-degree weather.”

The weather had actually improved. Everything was wet and dewy from the rain, and the sky hung low like a covering tarp, but the sun had begun to peek through. She inhaled the salty air coming off the water and the scents of spruce and pine from the woods. Glorious. So was the man trying to give her the bum’s rush down the hill. “We could just free the essentials,” she said breathlessly.

“Yes, but it’s my essentials I’m worried about.” He was following her down, climbing with the agility of someone much lighter and smaller than his size. “I don’t want anything freezing off.”

She laughed. “It’s not cold enough.”

“Says the woman who doesn’t have a part to freeze off.”

“And here I thought you were so tough.”

“An illusion.” He hopped to the sand and then, because apparently she wasn’t moving fast enough for him, snatched her off the rock himself for one more bone-melting kiss. Then he had her by the hand and was pushing her toward the stairs.

Apparently, they were in a hurry. She was on board with that and picked up the pace. But that combined with her undeniable excitement worked against her because after a few steps, she felt her chest tighten. Goddammit. “Sawyer—”

He took one look at her, swore, then lifted her into his arms and took the stairs as if she weighed nothing at all.

Laughing breathlessly, she said, “Don’t wear yourself out. I have plans for you.”

“You just concentrate on breathing,” he said, expression dialed into fiercely intent male. “Inhaler?”

“Got it.” She pulled it from her pocket and used it as he carried her through his backyard and past the shower.

“Oh,” she said, looking longingly at the showerhead. “But—”

“
Bed
,” he said firmly.

She wriggled her gritty toes. “I’m sandy.”

“You’re going to be hot and bothered in a minute,” he promised and shouldered open his back door.

She was already hot and bothered, and a shiver of anticipation racked her as Sawyer carried her through the house so fast that she could barely see. “Hey,” she said. “You painted some more—”

This was all she got out before she went sailing through the air.

She landed on a huge bed. Before she’d even bounced once, he was on her. He’d removed his Kevlar vest and shirts again, dropping them to the floor with his other gear. Taking both her wrists in one hand, he raised them above her head and pinned them there as he settled over her. She wriggled and lightly tugged to see if he’d free her hands.

“Not yet,” he said.

“No?”

“No.” He nipped at her chin. “We need to talk first, and if you touch me, I’ll forget what I want to say.”

This surprised her. “The big, bad sheriff has a weakness?”

“When it comes to you, more than one,” he admitted readily and lightly squeezed her wrists, silently telling her to hold still and stop squirming.

Chloe couldn’t help it. He was so nice to squirm against, warm and hard in all the interesting spots, his strength barely held in check. “You don’t
really
want to talk right now, do you?” she murmured. “
Really
?”

Sawyer let out a breath and dropped his forehead to hers. “Hell, no. But I have to ask. You said before you couldn’t have orgasms.”

“Which you proved wrong,” she reminded him.

“Yes, at your cost.” He paused. “So you don’t usually…”

“Not in mixed company, no. I can give myself one, if I concentrate on staying real calm and still.”

His eyes dilated black. “That’s a hell of a contrast. Trying to come while staying calm and still.”

She shrugged. “I manage.” Fascinated by the way he was looking at her, as if he wanted to gobble her up whole, she heard herself say, “I could…show you. If you wanted.”

“Yes,” he said very seriously. “I want you to show me.” He backed off of her and sat at her hip.

Suddenly a little shy about this venture that had been her idea, she hesitated.

“Here, let me help.” In five seconds flat, he had her out of her shoes, socks, and jeans. He stared down at her sunshine-yellow, boy-cut panties and then ran a finger over the smiley face on her mound. “Show me, Chloe.”

Closing her eyes, she slid her hand into her panties. A very rough, male sound of appreciation rumbled above her, and then Sawyer encircled her wrist with his warm fingers. Her eyes flew open.

“Slow,” he commanded. “Real slow and easy.”

“I didn’t say slow,” she said. “It doesn’t have to be slow. Just calm.”

“Lots of calm.” His thumb scraped over the pulse at the inside of her wrist. “But let’s try slow and easy, too.”

She knew that he didn’t want an ER run. Problem was, she wasn’t a slow-and-easy sort of girl. She was more of a hurry-up-before-she-had-an-asthma-attack sort of girl. “Fast is better. That way I have a shot at it.”

“Slow and easy,” he repeated firmly and then slid his fingers beneath hers so that he was the one touching her. Gently, so gently that she wanted to weep, he glided his fingers over her core. Back and forth, then again. And again. Teasing.

Arousing.

Her moan echoed around them, and then it was her turn to grip
his
wrist. What he was doing was magic, but she needed…“More.”

“Shh,” he said and kept up that light touch, opening her a little more with each pass of those diabolical fingers, spreading her wetness until she was writhing beneath him.

Then he just stopped.

Gasping, she sat up.

“You okay?” Sawyer asked, eyes on her face.

When she nodded, he put a hand over her chest and nudged her flat on her back again. “Good,” he said. “Keep it slow and—”

“If you say easy, I’m going to hurt you.”

“I researched asthma online,” he said so quietly that it took a moment for his words to sink in. Or maybe it was because his fingers were driving her to the point of madness, affecting her ability to process. But he’d actually taken enough interest to research her problem? It meant something, it had to, but she wasn’t sure what. That he liked her? Okay, she could deal with that. She liked him, too. And maybe it’d also been fear based. Her almost dying had scared him. Yes, of course. That made perfect sense.

“I learned that the key,” he said, “is relaxation and having a partner that pays close attention to your breathing patterns. I’m paying close attention, Chloe.” His smile was both sexy and reassuring and made her chest tighten until she thought she might burst.

“Hey,” he said, his gaze narrow with concern. “Are you—”

“
Fine
. It’s not the asthma. It’s” —she moistened her lips— “you. I don’t want to stop.”

His gaze immediately went back to her poised hand. “Then don’t,” he said a little thickly.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Or as deep as she was able. She wasn’t feeling asthmatic—yet—but she did feel a little…exposed. “Maybe you could tell me a dirty story,” she whispered and heard his soft chuckle.

“Okay,” he murmured. “There’s this beautiful, gutsy redhead…” He leaned over her on the bed. “She has curves that drive me insane.”

“Curves? Is she chunky, then?”

“She’s perfect.” Sawyer unbuttoned her top and spread it open. She felt his lips on her collarbone, then the swell of a breast. “And she has this way of moving, so confident and sure of herself. It’s sexy as hell.”

“Sometimes,” Chloe whispered, “she fakes the confidence.”

“My story,” he said and kissed her nipple through the silk of her bra. His mouth was hot, and she arched up into it, moving her hand faster. Her breath hitched, but his fingers settled over hers, stilling her movements, reminding her about the slow-and-easy decree. Before she could object, he tugged down the cup of her bra with his teeth and ran his tongue over her bared nipple. “You were pierced,” he whispered against her skin, kissing the pebbled peak.

“Y—yes.”

“Why?”

There was no recrimination in his voice, no judgment. Only curiosity. “I don’t know.” But she did.

Sawyer lifted his head and met her gaze. Not pressing. Just waiting in that way he had that made her want to spill all her secrets.

“Sometimes, I can’t…feel,” she said softly.

“Here?” His fingers closed over her nipple, plucking the peak like an instrument, and she quivered.

“No.” She shifted his hand to her heart. “Here. I couldn’t feel anything, and I needed to.”

His gaze dipped to her hand, then rose back to her eyes, his own filled with what might have been understanding.

But she wasn’t used to that. And anyway, how could he
really
understand? He didn’t give a shit about what anyone thought. He could do whatever he wanted, when he wanted. Run. Climb. Have wild animal sex…

“Did it help?” he asked quietly. “The pain?”

She waited to feel the anxiety build in her chest, festering and clawing at her until she shut down in self-preservation. But she was looking right into his eyes, and there was still no judgment, nothing but a simple acceptance, and she didn’t get anxious at all. “Yes, it helped,” she whispered. “At the time.”

“And now?”

“I don’t need the pain anymore.”

“Good.” He flicked his tongue between her breasts and worked his way south. Her hand was still in her panties, her fingers where she needed them, moving in what felt like tandem with his mouth, making her arch up into him.

“Still pierced here,” he murmured against her trembling belly.

“I l-like how it looks with my bathing suit. God, Sawyer.”

He settled a hand over hers again and slowed her down. “Easy,” he murmured.

“If you say that one more time, I’m going to easy your—”

He hooked his fingers into her panties and pulled them down her legs. Then he wedged his broad shoulders between her thighs, getting up close to all her secrets. A groan wrenched from his throat. “Ah, Chloe. You’re so wet. No, don’t stop.”

She’d always assumed that she could make herself come because there wasn’t a lot of aerobic action to a self-serve, at least not the way she did it. No stress or performance anxiety involved, just a slightly boring but gratifying release.

But she was definitely feeling a little breathless now, with him holding her legs open, watching her with such avid fascination. Her chest tightened even more, and she realized this wasn’t going to work. “Sawyer—”

“Yeah, I know. You’re not very good at following directions.” He took her hands in his, pulled them to her sides and held them there. “Don’t move.”

“I—”

He licked the moisture between her legs, and she gasped.

“Keep breathing,” he murmured against her skin. “You’re holding your breath. In and out, Chloe. Slow.”

Was he kidding her? “I
can’t
.”

“Thought that word wasn’t in your vocabulary.”

She huffed out a faint laugh. But his hot mouth was still working her, making her tremble, and his name tumbled from her lips as she slid her hands from his and fisted them in his hair.

He stayed the course, hummed her name against her, making her toes curl. She tightened her grip, but he couldn’t be rushed. Whenever she tried, he merely captured her wrists again, pinning her legs with his heavy body to hold her still. “Shhh,” he told her and then continued.

Slow.

Easy.

Driving her right out of her mind. “Please. Sawyer,
please
.”

But her entreaty fell on deaf ears. He did his own thing at his own pace, gently massaging and teasing and coaxing her right into a blissful explosion that shocked and rocked her to the very core.

While she trembled and shuddered back to Planet Earth, he gave her one last soft kiss and moved back up her body to study her face closely. “Okay?” he asked.

“If I was any more okay, you’d have to peel me off the ceiling.”

He smiled, but his eyes were still hot, lines of tension bracketing his mouth.

“I really am okay,” she said, stunned to realize it was true. She was breathing heavily but not feeling wheezy. “Sawyer?”

“Yeah?”

“Your turn.” She pushed him down to the bed. Leaning over him, she took his wrists and forced his hands up to the headboard and curled his fingers around the spindles. She lowered the timber of her voice to imitate his. “Slow,” she commanded. “Real slow and easy.”

He smiled. “But I don’t have asthma—”

“You’re not very good at following directions either. I suppose I’ll have to take over.”

He raised a challenging brow. He was sprawled beneath her wearing only his uniform trousers, his body warm and strong, his every muscle taut. God, so many muscles. Even his feet were sexy. Lord, she had it bad. “I could look at you all day,” she whispered.

A flicker of surprise came into his eyes and then heat. “Look all you want,” he said. “But first let me—” He let go of the headboard to adjust himself with a grimace.