Page 64 of For the Record
“So beautiful,” McCoy whispered, running her tongue along Sawyer’s inner thigh. She reached for a pillow, tucking it under Sawyer’s ass. Then she spread Sawyer’s thighs apart and settled between her legs, blowing air on her sensitive lips. Sawyer stifled another cry. “So ready for my kiss.”
She expected a tentative swipe of McCoy’s tongue or maybe rough fingers trying to find her clit, and she gasped as McCoy devoured her.
“Relax, sweetheart, I’ve got you,” McCoy said, holding Sawyer in place. She winked, her face already glistening from Sawyer’s arousal.
“McC-oh!” Sawyer’s legs shook as McCoy’s tongue stroked the length of her pussy, then swirled and flicked the bundle of nerves begging for release. Sawyer clutched the bedsheets, her ragged breaths mounting with each inhale. Her body was on fire. She couldn’t catch her breath. McCoy sucked her clit into her mouth, and pinpricks of light danced in Sawyer’s vision. Her chest squeezed like it was a tension ball, and a flare of panic hit her. It was too much. Too much.
My heart’s going to burst!
“Stop,” she sobbed, throwing her arm over her eyes to shield herself from McCoy. “I-I can’t—” Another sob, and the moment McCoy withdrew, Sawyer twisted her legs free.
“Sawyer? What’s wrong?”
Sawyer shook her head, unable to speak past her tears. She was weeping for no reason, and yet her heart felt like it was splitting in two. McCoy’s hand landed on her arm, and she flinched like it had burned her.
“It’s okay. Just breathe, sweetheart. I’m sorry. You’re okay.”
Arms wrapped around her, and then McCoy was cradling Sawyer to her chest. She trembled, caught between needing McCoy and needing to push her away. Sex had never caused fear before, but then, she’d never had sex like she did with McCoy. Like all her nerve endings were exposed and raw, like her clit was so overstimulated she'd combust where she lay. She’d never come close to feeling like that.
“That’s it. Slow your breathing. Can I get you anything?”
Sawyer shook her head, relaxing into McCoy’s chest. She felt McCoy’s comforting touch drawing circles over her back, and after a long stretch of silence, her eyelids grew heavy. She sniffled, allowing sleep to take her, so she wasn’t certain she heard McCoy’s muffled declaration correctly.
“I’ve gone and fallen in love with you, haven’t I? Well, shit.”
Chapter 34
McCoy
Later that morning, Coyfound herself rummaging through Sawyer’s kitchen as she tried to locate a lighter for the propane stove. The beginnings of her nana’s special porridge recipe rested in a pot beside the stove. “Oh, lighter. Come out, come out wherever you are,” Coy sang under her breath, opening another cupboard. She had a headache, and she still needed coffee. In Sawyer’s big, fancy kitchen with all the gadgets in the world, there wasn’t a percolator in sight.
A giggle sounded behind her, and then a sleepy voice said, “It's a gas stove, so … just turn the knob.”
Coy turned to see Bree mid-yawn, clad in an oversized hoodie and baggy drawstring pajama pants. Patches wasn’t too far behind, butting her head against the back of Bree’s leg. “Ah, thanks, you’re a lifesaver.”
“No prob. Whatcha making?” Bree yawned again, padding her way to the way-too-modern-for-Coy espresso machine. “Want an Americano or latte or something?”
“Uh …” Coy racked her sleep-addled brain, trying to remember what she’d had at Abi’s all those weeks ago. Scratching her head when nothing came to mind, she shrugged. “Whatever you can make that’s not too sweet, thanks.”
“Sure.”
Coy got the stove going the first try, and immediately felt like a fool for not thinking to do that first. Lack of sleep had her barely functioning without caffeine. “I’m making my nana’s famous porridge recipe. Me and Sloane practically grew up on this stuff. Figured you and your mom might like it.”
“Well, thank you. I know I’ll appreciate it. Who can say for sure aboutMaman? So far, she’s choked down any porridge I’ve given her.”
Coy smiled, accepting the wooden spoon Bree handed her. “Yeah, I think she’d prefer a cinnamon roll. She doesn’t really like change, does she?”
The delicious aroma of coffee filled the kitchen as Bree fiddled with the machine. She tossed a smirk in Coy’s direction. “Says the one who spent the night inMaman’sbed.”
Coy blushed, turning back to the porridge. She made sure the burner setting was on high before going on a hunt for the eggs. Patches met her at the fridge, rubbing her head against Coy’s bare leg and meowing. Coy was more of a dog person, but she had to admit the calico was a cutie.
“C’mere girl, let’s get some breakfast into you,” Bree said, scooping Patches up. She kissed her head, strolling over to the walk-in pantry for the calico’s food. “You’re right, though,” Bree added, glancing up at Coy as she opened a can. “Mamandoesn’t like change and hates surprises. But you’re a bit of both, and by the looks of things, she’s adjusting.”
Coy considered that. Had Sawyer been adjusting by allowing Coy to touch her? When she’d woken with Sawyer still in her arms, it had taken everything in Coy not to stay put. Nothing had ever felt more right than a naked Sawyer draped over her, fast asleep.
But what happened at the end?
Coy had her suspicions. During scenes with Frankie, Coy would sometimes get so overstimulated that she became a sobbing mess. When that happened, she begged Frankie to let her come. She knew a lot about the raw emotions that came with it, too, but she and Sawyer hadn’t been doing a scene. Hell, if their intimacy had to be categorized, Coy would say it was pretty damn passionate. She’d never wanted to make love to anyone before, and yet, taking her time with Sawyer came naturally. It’d been perfect until Sawyer panicked.