Page 12 of Sawyer

“I think I do.” The frank lust in her eyes sends my pulse into a tailspin.

“You sure?”

She digs her teeth into her bottom lip. “Yeah, cowboy, I’m sure. But hold on.” She digs her phone out of her purse and holds it up to take a selfie. “I’m going to send your picture to my sisters. You chop me into little pieces, you bet they’re gonna come find your ass. Smile.”

I slide a hand into the back pocket of her jeans. “How could I not after that little speech?”

Snaking her free arm between us, she mimics the motion, dipping her fingertips into the back pocket of my Levi’s. She looks up at the screen. “Wow, we’re cute.”

“We’re hot as fuck.” I give her ass a squeeze. “Now take the picture so I can take you home.”

“Home is …”

“The Market Hotel.”

“Fancy.”

“Yep.”

Her eyes sparkle. I smile at the screen, and so does she. The camera clicks. She texts the photo to her sisters.

Then I grab Ava’s hand and lead her out of the bar.

CHAPTER4

Ava

A Party: Or, Two Bottles of Champagne, Some Condoms, and a Pack of Parliaments

I don’t even pretendto want to go anywhere but Sawyer’s hotel room.

So much for having fun with my girls. That idea went out the window somewhere around the time this man showed me just how well he could dance. He’s so unself-conscious, always ready with a laugh or an encouraging smile.

As for Sawyer, he doesn’t pretend to slow down. Instead, he twines our fingers as we stalk out into the night, nudging me toward the inside of the sidewalk and away from the street.

I’m a little breathless from trying to keep up with him. This urgency, thishunger, is ridiculously sexy.

My body lights up at the don’t-fuck-with-her vibe he gives off. A couple of guys check me out, and Sawyer glares at them, dropping my hand so he can grip the nape of my neck. He draws me even closer, practically curling his big body around mine.

My scalp prickles, the throb between my legs blaring to renewed, vibrant life. Is it wrong that I like being claimed this way? Protected?

No one, not even Dan, ever made me feel this safe, even though Sawyer is practically a stranger.

I feel safe, and most of all, I feel sure.

I have never been surer of anything in my life: this guy’s not a frog, he’s totally a prince. One I want to sleep with. Right now. All night. Because I have a very strong suspicion he’s going to be very good in bed. He’s hot, he’s funny. He likes my wild side. He’s a great dancer.Andhe’s a cowboy.

He’s also not a serial killer. Really, what more could a gal ask for?

My phone keeps buzzing in my bag. It’s my sisters, no doubt, freaking out—in a good way—over the fact thatI’mthe one going home with a guy. Especiallythisguy. I’ll have to thank Bee later for pushing me into him.

“You see a drugstore, let me know.” The deep, even tone of Sawyer’s voice sends a shiver up my spine. “I need to get a few things.”

“You don’t have?—”

“Told you I don’t get out much.”

The fact that Sawyer doesn’t have condoms is actually kind of endearing. Makes me wonder what his story is. I feel guys who go to bars to pick up women are always prepared. But Sawyer isn’t. He did say he doesn’t get out much. Why not?

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