I wrapped my legs around him. Slowly, slowly, he thrust inside me, his eyes still holding mine captive.
“You’re so damn amazing, Dawn Edwards,” he growled.
“Same to you, Spencer Cosgrove.”
Smiling, he brushed my bangs off my forehead and put his weight on one elbow.
He slipped out of me and entered again, slowly, as if he were savoring this moment as much as I was. He kept to this languid rhythm and an enormous heat built up in me.
Raising my head, I kissed his chest and licked the sweat from his throat. He let out a throaty groan and it sounded so damn sexy that my muscles tightened around him. He sucked in a breath of air and I felt him tense deep inside me. My hands wandered over his shoulders and I grabbed his biceps as I tilted my hips, trying to feel more of him. Spencer reacted right away. He pushed deeper into me and I clung to him. His lips stroked mine; I arched my back. To want someone as much as I wanted him would have been scary if it hadn’t felt so great. It was frightening, exciting, wonderful—simply everything.
Spencer was everything to me.
I held his face between my hands as our rhythm grew feverish, and we lost control. His eyes darkened, his lips were swollen, and color rose into his cheeks. The tension continued to build, and build, until I found it nearly impossible to hold his gaze. But I wanted him to see. To understand what he was doing to me. And I found myself wishing he’d finally understand that he deserved more. So much more.
Chapter 29
I’d already been sitting for an hour at the bar at Woodshill Steakhouse. I was there to meet my dad, but had actually come with Sawyer at the start of her shift so we could talk.
My work onAbout Uswas moving along pretty well, though I was far from close to finishing it. I was pretty sure it would be my first real novel. The story had so many layers to discover, layers that I wanted to reveal. I was working out so many of my feelings about Spencer and me through the book, and I needed more time to find the right words.
“Hey, I think that’s your old man there.”
Turning around on the barstool, I looked toward the entrance. An elderly man with a cane was coming in the door. He looked to be about eighty.
“You’ve been saying that for an hour, every time a man comes in. It’s not funny anymore.”
She just shrugged, grinned and polished another glass. Though she tried not to show it, I could tell she wasn’t completely happy with this job. Sawyer was the kind of person who preferred spending most of her day outside. Given the choice, she’d rather roam around with her camera and photograph whatever passed in front of her lens. Working in the restaurant was just temporary.
She didn’t tell me exactly what was going on, but I knew she needed the money. If I could make her workday a bit better by keeping her company, even if she annoyed me, then I was happy to help.
“But that’s got to be him, right?” Sawyer asked, and I rolled my eyes.
“Haha, Sawyer.”
“Honey!”
I turned and beamed at Dad, who approached with his arms outstretched. Love was obviously doing him good. He looked younger and was wearing jeans and a flattering wool sweater.
“Hey, Dad,” I said, throwing my arms around him. Then I backed up and held him at arms’ length, looking him up and down. “You look great.”
“I took your advice and left my overalls at home today. Shall we?” He nodded toward the bench by the window.
“First, I want to introduce you to someone,” I said. “Dad, this is Sawyer, my roommate. Sawyer, this is my dad, Stanley.”
“Ah! I’ve heard so much about you.” Dad shook Sawyer’s hand firmly. “Nice to finally put a face to your name.”
Sawyer blinked. “Oh… um, same here.”
Dad smiled and led us to our table. I went to follow him but Sawyer held on to my wrist.
“You told your dad about me?”
I frowned. “Of course. I tell him about all my friends.”
She frowned and released my arm. “Aha.”
“What did you think?” I asked.