Page 18 of Betting On Her
“Kitten,” Sawyer mutters in his sleep as his fingers tighten on my side.
There’s a tense expression on his face that I want to kiss away. A pang of longing hits me right in the chest, and damn it, I love this man so much.
Is it sad that I know whatever might come out of all of this that I won’t leave him in the end? I think that’s what worries me so much. Sawyer is my protector, but who can protect me from him?
No one.
When I try to lift his arm off of me, his eyes fly open. “I have to go to the bathroom,” I whisper, and for a moment, I’m not sure if he’s going to let me go. He seems to think it over but finally releases me.
Once I get out of bed, I go to the bathroom and take a moment to collect myself. After a few deep breaths, I calm my worried heart and realize that I can’t stay in here forever. As soon as I open the bathroom door, Sawyer is standing there waiting for me.
“Are you my prison guard?” I snap, and he flinches. “I’m sorry.” It’s not like me to be cruel and I don’t want to start now. As hurt as I am, I don't want to do the same to him.
“Chloe,” he says, but I don’t wait for him to finish.
“I’m hungry. You should go back to sleep. I’m going to make myself some tea and eat something.” I go to walk past him, but he snags me around my waist and pulls me into him.
“Don’t run from me,” Sawyer whispers into my hair.
“I’m not going to run. I promise.” I’m telling him the truth, but I don't think he believes me. “The doctor said no stress, so I’m not doing that again, and I’m not leaving you.”
When I push on his chest to step away, he doesn’t let me.
“You might not be running, but you’re pulling away from me. You’re not letting me in. You have a wall up.”
He’s not wrong about that, but what am I supposed to do? Emotionally I know I’m keeping him at arm's length. “I honestly don’t think I can control that, Sawyer.”
“I’ll feed you.”
I don’t argue with him as he takes my hand and leads me into the kitchen.
“Sit down, I’ll do it.”
“I can?—”
“This is my kitchen,” I say a little snippier than I intended, and his lips twitch.
The kitchen is the one place I can be a little bossy, and he knows it. Sawyer raises his hands in surrender, but instead of sitting, he leans against the kitchen island and watches me. Neither of us says a word as I get out some pasta. It’s quick to make, and once it’s finished, I place both bowls in front of the chairs at the kitchen island.
“It’s delicious,” Sawyer says after he takes his first bite.
No matter how upset I am, his praise always makes me smile. Right now is no exception, and I can see him out of the corner of my eyes watching me. I bite my lip to control it, but it’s no use. He keeps on eating, and every time he licks his lips, I wiggle in my chair.
We’ve been together too long, and I have no control over my body. His leg keeps brushing against mine, and I know he’s doing it on purpose. When I glance down at his lap, I can see the outline of his cock in his sweatpants. He’s hard, and it makes that throb between my legs worse.
“Finish your food, kitten,” he orders.
I don’t respond to him, but I eat the rest of my noodles. Not because he told me to but because I want to. At least that’s what I’m telling myself.
Once my bowl is empty, Sawyer cleans up the kitchen and then turns to face me. “We’re not done.”
“What?”
“You know what.”
He walks slowly around the kitchen island, and I can tell from the intense expression on his face what’s coming. He lifts me off my feet, and instinctively I wrap my legs around him.
“I’m still mad at you,” I tell him even as I squeeze my thighs tighter.