As promised, my fic for 6/1
TITLE: Sawyer/Alex Protest Porn (‘Cause It’s Time to Get Political)
AUTHOR: Mari
RATING: NC-17
PAIRING: Sawyer/Alex
SPOILERS: Through ‘Looking Glass’
DISCLAIMER: Not my sandbox
Sawyer starts awake in the dark and wishes that he had a gun. There’s a figure standing in the doorway to his tent, holding the flap back with one hand and watching him with eyes that he cannot see. She’s slight, and her hair falls in waves around her face. Sawyer sighs and sinks back to his bedding before he puts a hand behind his head. After the fits that they were having at each other before the doc went and got them all saved, even though that ship is taking its sweet-ass time getting here, he didn’t guess that he would ever see her pert ass darkening his doorstep again.
“Well, now, Freckles,” Sawyer says. He deliberately puts a stress upon the nickname and imagines that her eyes are narrowing even as he cannot see them. She don’t like to be called Kate, he aims to please. If the moonlight behind her is keeping Sawyer from being able to see her face, then it is damned sure making her able to see his bright and wolfish smile. “I don’t see why you think that you can just waltz in here every time that you got an itch to be scratched.” She could, and they both knew that she could, but it was the little things that mattered. “I ain’t your rent boy.”
“I’m not Kate,” the figure in the doorway says in a flat voice. Sawyer straightens and feels his eyes snap open from their half-masted expression. No, he realizes, she ain’t. She’s shorter, and her figure still has hints of adolescent gawkiness about it that won’t go away for a few more years yet.
Oh, God, he just came onto a sixteen year-old girl. Sawyer rubs his hand over his face and nearly laughs. For all the sins that he has on his plate, that’s the one that makes him nearly jump out of his skin. He bets that Rose could pull out a really good glare over it.
“Kamala,” Sawyer says in an exasperated tone when it becomes clear that Alex is going to simply stand in his doorway and stare at him like a nubile child of the corn, “excuse my French here, no joke intended, but what in the fuck do you think you’re doing here in the middle of the night?”
In the shadows, he still thinks that Alex smiles. It’s gone as quickly as it arrives. That makes sense. When she arrived at their camp with her ma and that bug-eyed shrimp that served as her father all those years, she didn’t seem to Sawyer like the smiling type. Her mouth was made for the sort of pout that could turn a man’s head and liquefy his knees with nothing more than a gesture.
Fuck. Sawyer can feel Rose or Hurley sitting up in their respective tents and taking immediate glares around, just knowing that there’s lechery afoot. He rubs his hand over his face.
“I can’t sleep,” Alex confesses as she drops the tent flap back down, leaving them alone and with only a few spare strays of light creeping in around the cracks. Sawyer mutters a soft obscenity under his breath and digs his lighter from the pocket of his jeans. Dharma brand candles have a funny odor that makes everyone nervous, but they’re easier than flashlights a lot of the time. It would figure that Alex can see in the dark like a fucking cat, but Sawyer is not so blessed. He lights the candle and sets it to the side, where it immediately casts the entire tent into flickering gold. Alex has not moved from her position directly in front of the door. The only thing that moves is her eyes, which track the movements of Sawyer’s hands as he finishes lighting the candle and shoves the lighter back into his jeans. It takes him a second to realize that the stillness could even be interpreted as nervousness, if he wants it to be.
It’s all that Sawyer can do not to roll his eyes. “And you want me to read you a bedtime story?” he snaps at her.
Alex continues to stare. She’s creepy like that. “Why do you call me Kamala?” she asks. “What does it mean?”
“It’s about a girl who was raised by wolves,” Sawyer replies. “So that she doesn’t know how to be a girl any longer. Thought that it fit you.”
She pauses, tilts her head to one side. “It does,” Alex says finally, before she strides forward and, in a move that would have earned her a tip in her G-string if she were five years older and he were still in Tennessee, slides herself right into Sawyer’s lap.
“Oh, I’ve gotta still be dreaming,” Sawyer says in the shocked hush before either one of them can quite do anything else. He puts his hands on Alex’s waist in order to…hell, he doesn’t know. Push her off. Tell her to go find her age-appropriate boyfriend and have herself a nice little after-school special. Whatever. She does a funny wriggle before Sawyer can act, though, a move that both shakes his hands away from her and grinds herself down onto his crotch. Sawyer might not be sure if he’s even still awake, but his brain isn’t really needed for his. His breath catches in his throat for a moment as his cock twitches.
There is no way that the entire camp cannot be waking up with some kind of sixth sense telling them that there is serious bad, dirty, and wrong mojo being worked within this tent. And, Sawyer discovers, that might even be part of the reason that he can feel himself getting hard. He moves to push her off again, or thinks that he does, and finds his hand upon her breast instead. She hasn’t bothered with a bra.
“You don’t know how to be one of them, either,” Alex whispers. “That’s why I’m here.” The gold of the candlelight transforms her face, her hair, as she leans in close to his face.
Alex’s mouth on his belies the confidence with which she’s wriggling herself all around his lap like it’s hers, soft and butterfly-light. Her tongue touches at his lips as if she’s not sure what the reception will be.
Sawyer takes a long, slow breath before he says, “Honey, you don’t know half of what you think that you do.”
Alex pauses and leans back with a frown line appearing between her eyes. “You think you’re bad,” she says. “You’ve thought it for ages without knowing why, except that being good is so goddamned hard, and being bad is so much better. You don’t know why you’re not happy either way.” The corner of her mouth lifts up. “Ballpark?”
“So you know three-quarters of what you think you do,” Sawyer allows. He puts his hands onto Alex’s thighs, tells himself that it’s to hold her steady. He keeps telling himself this as they find their way to cupping her ass. She could take a nasty fall, all six inches or so.
“I’ve been feeling that way for sixteen years,” Alex says before she kisses Sawyer again. She doesn’t do it like an amateur this time. It’s all woman-passion and woman-confidence, tongue that sweeps against the roof of his mouth while she grinds herself down against him again, sweet and slow. There’s not pretending that he isn’t powerfully turned on by this any longer. Sawyer grabs a fistful of her hair and, intending yet again to push her back, only tugs her closer. He really ought to just let his better instincts go. They’re clearly having themselves a nice little holiday for the night already.
Fuck it. Sawyer twists his hand tighter through her hair and starts to kiss her back, at the same time using his free hand to shove beneath her shirt and find that vast expanse of heated skin that’s just waiting for him. No bra. Seeing it as she practically gave him a fucking lap dance was one thing, even feeling the hard little beads that were her nipples brushing against his chest as she leaned in close, but palming one of her breasts is quite another. They’re on the small side, but high and firm, and the way that Alex shifts and makes a surprised sound as Sawyer massages one of them says all that he needs to hear.
“Boyfriend hasn’t learned to take the long way around yet?” he breaks away and murmurs to her, his face still so close that she must be feeling what he’s saying as well as hearing it. Alex shivers as her stubble grazes against her face.
“Shut up,” Alex mutters back at him. And then she shifts, goddamned wiggles, and son of a bitch. The girl might not too many moves, yet, but the ones that she’s mastered thus far are solid gold. Sawyer pulls in his breath and starts to pull Alex’s shirt up over her head and give himself an eyeful of those breasts that his hands are enjoying so much, but she pulls away before he does more than expose a few inches of creamy skin.
Sawyer exhales a frustrated sigh. “Goddamn it, girl,” he says to her. “I ain’t the type that rants about mixed signals, usually, but you really need to figure out what the hell it is that you want here.” Sawyer, in the meantime, realizes that his mind has taken a back seat for the moment, while his body knows exactly what it wants.
Alex gives him an arch look. She reaches for his jeans, lowers the zipper with a speed that would probably make her daddy livid if he knew, for it speaks to a hell of a lot more that she’s been doing with that boy of hers than holding hands and sharing malts at the soda shop. It’s also about the clearest damned answer that Sawyer guesses he can get. He grins and lowers himself back onto his elbows. “Since you want to get right to the point-“
No, he was wrong. There was one clearer answer that she could have given. Alex ain’t one to take the long way around, either, it would seem. The way that she kneels between Sawyer’s sprawled legs, takes his exposed cock in hand, and only strokes at it a few times before she lowers her head and takes it within her mouth proves tha to be true. Sawyer finds his hand in her hair again, fingers flexing and massaging the scalp, as her warm mouth surrounds him and her tongue swirls around his length from the base all the way up to the tip and back again. Her head bobs up and down with each movement; sure as fuck she didn’t learn how to do this in no malt-shop or on whatever kind of PG-approved chaperoned events that creepy little island chief of a father she’s got must have put on. Sawyer groans and tilts his head back as she flicks her tongue across his head in a move that she ought to be proud of, while one of her hands caresses his balls. The friction is incredible, and Sawyer guesses that sometimes the simple things are the best. He grips the back of her neck when he comes. She doesn’t pull away until she’s swallowed everything down, and her tongue darts out to catch at a small droplet as she raises her head.
Damn, but if she doesn’t watch it Sawyer’s going to wind up wanting her all over again.
“What?” Alex says when she catches the way that Sawyer is looking at her, for a second all that teenaged insolence coming back through like a clear television signal. “I was never going to fuck you; I don’t want a baby exploding out of me at someone’s face.”
“Kamala, if you think that I was disappointed by that then you have a hell of a lot to learn about the ways of men,” Sawyer starts, and then pauses. “Wait, you’ve seen Alien?”
Alex shrugs and lowers her eyes. She won’t get a blush about coming into a near-stranger’s tent and giving him one of the best blowjobs that he’s had in quite a while, but admitting to some pop culture knowledge, that’s embarrassing. Weird girl. “We used to have a movie night.”
“Uh-huh.” Sawyer only lets this process for a few seconds before he stacks it onto the vast and growing pile of things that will make his brain blow up if he lets them stay for too long, and instead flashes Alex the kind of grin that’s been bringing blood to women’s cheeks ever since he was only sixteen himself. Alex is no different. As balls to the wall weird as this girl is, it’s nice to know that she’s like others in that regard. “Come ‘ere.”
“Why?” Alex asks. Sawyer is caught between widening his eyes and rolling them so hard that they fall right out of his head.
“Oh, now I know that Carl ain’t one for the long way around,” he says. “It’s called reciprocity, Kamala. Come on, just lay back and enjoy it.” Alex’s eyes are all pupil, and her lips are still swollen. It’s a good look on her.
Alex lays back when Sawyer nudges at her, flushes even deeper when Sawyer whispers to her, “You and me, you said that we were outsiders, right? Just didn’t know how to be like other folks. Barely even know how to fake it on most days.”
Alex’s chin dips down and into a very slight nod before she manages to catch herself. “I didn’t say that much,” she says.
“Yeah, but it’s what you meant,” Sawyer counters, because he realizes that it’s true, for the both of them. Has been ever since she decided to darken his doorstep and beyond. “Go on, take off your clothes.” At Alex’s look, he flashes that lazy grin again and says, “In case you couldn’t tell, I’m a fan of the scenic route.” He puts himself away while she obeys, exposing those breasts that he had been enjoying so much moments before and long expanses of skin that culminate in a pair of coltish legs. She’s flushed.
“Well,” Sawyer says. She’s beautiful. A little late to be reaching that conclusion, his brain comes back to the party long enough to chirp helpfully at him, but within moments he thinks that his cock is not going to be satisfied in a sated slumber for all that much longer. “Atta girl.” He crawls up her body until he’s reclining partially on top of her, starts with her mouth. Her startled pause breaks when he kisses her as deep and hard as if she is the only woman in the world, the only woman who could ever exist in the entire world. She’s so caught up in it that she nearly jumps out of her skin when Sawyer’s hand cups her breast again. “Shh,” Sawyer murmurs to her. “You gotta work on your trust issues.” He grins as Alex makes another attempt at a half-assed glare before he starts kissing a line down her neck, relishing every jump and twitch as he hits a sensitive patch of skin, down her collar bone and to each breast in turn. The nipples grow harder still as Sawyer takes each of them into her mouth, and her stomach is fluttering by the time that he reaches her navel.
Sawyer loves a woman’s skin, loves the softness of it, loves the way that he can make it flush and respond to him with the very lightest and briefest of touches in exactly the right places. He smiles a little when he finds that Alex is already wet and wanting him by the time that his lips reach the outward edge of her pubic hair. She makes a frustrated sound when he abandons what she so obviously wants and kisses her inner thigh instead so that he can feel her give another one of those fascinating shivers again. A downward glances shows that her toes are curling and flexing impatiently against the sand. Sawyer chuckles.
“Oh, fuck your scenic route,” Alex finally grits. Sawyer only grins wider.
“You got to watch that mouth of yours, girl,” he tells her. “You’re among civilized people now.” He doesn’t wait for her glare or retort before he places his head between those thighs that fascinate him so much, flicks his tongue out against that bud that makes the ladies go wild. Alex gasps and lurches. Now that was what he wanted. Sawyer laps at her, works her with his mouth, until he hears her whining above him and she’s so wet that she’s nearly dripping. Her legs are shaking when Sawyer braces his hands against them to keep her steady, and she gives a final buck before she comes, hard, all but wailing above him. That sound alone is nearly enough to get him hard all over again.
He swats at her thigh and throws her her shirt as he sits up. “Tell you one thing, Kamala, you are something else,” he says. “Now, not to give you the impression that I’m anti-cuddling or that I didn’t have a hell of a time, you’d best skedaddle.”
For a second Alex even looks hurt as she pulls her shirt over her head and then reaches for her jeans. “Why?” she asks. “Don’t you want to do it again? Carl always wants to-“
“Let’s not turn this into a share moment,” Sawyer interrupts. He leans forward as Alex is buttoning up her jeans again and kisses her. If the way that he does ain’t enough to convince here that he isn’t exactly lining up his list of regrets, then he doesn’t know what will. “You’re kind of loud, princess, is the problem, and I think that your mama will kick my ass if she learns about what we just did.”
Alex pauses as she fixes her jeans and flashes him a grin. “Nah,” she says. “She’d go for dynamite.”
“A thought that warms my heart.” Sawyer swats at her thigh again and turns it into an opportunity to caress at her ass. “Now, go on, get.”
“Can I come back tomorrow night?” Alex asks. When Sawyer stares at her, she looks uncertain for a moment before she says, “You were raised by wolves, too. I can tell.”
It’s not a lie. “I wasn’t joking when I said that you were loud,” Sawyer responds, and then pauses before he can feel his face cracking. “Give it a week.”
“Okay,” Alex says, her smile showing a hint of dimple. She slides out of the tent as quietly and unobtrusively as she came.
End
AUTHOR: Mari
RATING: NC-17
PAIRING: Sawyer/Alex
SPOILERS: Through ‘Looking Glass’
DISCLAIMER: Not my sandbox
Sawyer starts awake in the dark and wishes that he had a gun. There’s a figure standing in the doorway to his tent, holding the flap back with one hand and watching him with eyes that he cannot see. She’s slight, and her hair falls in waves around her face. Sawyer sighs and sinks back to his bedding before he puts a hand behind his head. After the fits that they were having at each other before the doc went and got them all saved, even though that ship is taking its sweet-ass time getting here, he didn’t guess that he would ever see her pert ass darkening his doorstep again.
“Well, now, Freckles,” Sawyer says. He deliberately puts a stress upon the nickname and imagines that her eyes are narrowing even as he cannot see them. She don’t like to be called Kate, he aims to please. If the moonlight behind her is keeping Sawyer from being able to see her face, then it is damned sure making her able to see his bright and wolfish smile. “I don’t see why you think that you can just waltz in here every time that you got an itch to be scratched.” She could, and they both knew that she could, but it was the little things that mattered. “I ain’t your rent boy.”
“I’m not Kate,” the figure in the doorway says in a flat voice. Sawyer straightens and feels his eyes snap open from their half-masted expression. No, he realizes, she ain’t. She’s shorter, and her figure still has hints of adolescent gawkiness about it that won’t go away for a few more years yet.
Oh, God, he just came onto a sixteen year-old girl. Sawyer rubs his hand over his face and nearly laughs. For all the sins that he has on his plate, that’s the one that makes him nearly jump out of his skin. He bets that Rose could pull out a really good glare over it.
“Kamala,” Sawyer says in an exasperated tone when it becomes clear that Alex is going to simply stand in his doorway and stare at him like a nubile child of the corn, “excuse my French here, no joke intended, but what in the fuck do you think you’re doing here in the middle of the night?”
In the shadows, he still thinks that Alex smiles. It’s gone as quickly as it arrives. That makes sense. When she arrived at their camp with her ma and that bug-eyed shrimp that served as her father all those years, she didn’t seem to Sawyer like the smiling type. Her mouth was made for the sort of pout that could turn a man’s head and liquefy his knees with nothing more than a gesture.
Fuck. Sawyer can feel Rose or Hurley sitting up in their respective tents and taking immediate glares around, just knowing that there’s lechery afoot. He rubs his hand over his face.
“I can’t sleep,” Alex confesses as she drops the tent flap back down, leaving them alone and with only a few spare strays of light creeping in around the cracks. Sawyer mutters a soft obscenity under his breath and digs his lighter from the pocket of his jeans. Dharma brand candles have a funny odor that makes everyone nervous, but they’re easier than flashlights a lot of the time. It would figure that Alex can see in the dark like a fucking cat, but Sawyer is not so blessed. He lights the candle and sets it to the side, where it immediately casts the entire tent into flickering gold. Alex has not moved from her position directly in front of the door. The only thing that moves is her eyes, which track the movements of Sawyer’s hands as he finishes lighting the candle and shoves the lighter back into his jeans. It takes him a second to realize that the stillness could even be interpreted as nervousness, if he wants it to be.
It’s all that Sawyer can do not to roll his eyes. “And you want me to read you a bedtime story?” he snaps at her.
Alex continues to stare. She’s creepy like that. “Why do you call me Kamala?” she asks. “What does it mean?”
“It’s about a girl who was raised by wolves,” Sawyer replies. “So that she doesn’t know how to be a girl any longer. Thought that it fit you.”
She pauses, tilts her head to one side. “It does,” Alex says finally, before she strides forward and, in a move that would have earned her a tip in her G-string if she were five years older and he were still in Tennessee, slides herself right into Sawyer’s lap.
“Oh, I’ve gotta still be dreaming,” Sawyer says in the shocked hush before either one of them can quite do anything else. He puts his hands on Alex’s waist in order to…hell, he doesn’t know. Push her off. Tell her to go find her age-appropriate boyfriend and have herself a nice little after-school special. Whatever. She does a funny wriggle before Sawyer can act, though, a move that both shakes his hands away from her and grinds herself down onto his crotch. Sawyer might not be sure if he’s even still awake, but his brain isn’t really needed for his. His breath catches in his throat for a moment as his cock twitches.
There is no way that the entire camp cannot be waking up with some kind of sixth sense telling them that there is serious bad, dirty, and wrong mojo being worked within this tent. And, Sawyer discovers, that might even be part of the reason that he can feel himself getting hard. He moves to push her off again, or thinks that he does, and finds his hand upon her breast instead. She hasn’t bothered with a bra.
“You don’t know how to be one of them, either,” Alex whispers. “That’s why I’m here.” The gold of the candlelight transforms her face, her hair, as she leans in close to his face.
Alex’s mouth on his belies the confidence with which she’s wriggling herself all around his lap like it’s hers, soft and butterfly-light. Her tongue touches at his lips as if she’s not sure what the reception will be.
Sawyer takes a long, slow breath before he says, “Honey, you don’t know half of what you think that you do.”
Alex pauses and leans back with a frown line appearing between her eyes. “You think you’re bad,” she says. “You’ve thought it for ages without knowing why, except that being good is so goddamned hard, and being bad is so much better. You don’t know why you’re not happy either way.” The corner of her mouth lifts up. “Ballpark?”
“So you know three-quarters of what you think you do,” Sawyer allows. He puts his hands onto Alex’s thighs, tells himself that it’s to hold her steady. He keeps telling himself this as they find their way to cupping her ass. She could take a nasty fall, all six inches or so.
“I’ve been feeling that way for sixteen years,” Alex says before she kisses Sawyer again. She doesn’t do it like an amateur this time. It’s all woman-passion and woman-confidence, tongue that sweeps against the roof of his mouth while she grinds herself down against him again, sweet and slow. There’s not pretending that he isn’t powerfully turned on by this any longer. Sawyer grabs a fistful of her hair and, intending yet again to push her back, only tugs her closer. He really ought to just let his better instincts go. They’re clearly having themselves a nice little holiday for the night already.
Fuck it. Sawyer twists his hand tighter through her hair and starts to kiss her back, at the same time using his free hand to shove beneath her shirt and find that vast expanse of heated skin that’s just waiting for him. No bra. Seeing it as she practically gave him a fucking lap dance was one thing, even feeling the hard little beads that were her nipples brushing against his chest as she leaned in close, but palming one of her breasts is quite another. They’re on the small side, but high and firm, and the way that Alex shifts and makes a surprised sound as Sawyer massages one of them says all that he needs to hear.
“Boyfriend hasn’t learned to take the long way around yet?” he breaks away and murmurs to her, his face still so close that she must be feeling what he’s saying as well as hearing it. Alex shivers as her stubble grazes against her face.
“Shut up,” Alex mutters back at him. And then she shifts, goddamned wiggles, and son of a bitch. The girl might not too many moves, yet, but the ones that she’s mastered thus far are solid gold. Sawyer pulls in his breath and starts to pull Alex’s shirt up over her head and give himself an eyeful of those breasts that his hands are enjoying so much, but she pulls away before he does more than expose a few inches of creamy skin.
Sawyer exhales a frustrated sigh. “Goddamn it, girl,” he says to her. “I ain’t the type that rants about mixed signals, usually, but you really need to figure out what the hell it is that you want here.” Sawyer, in the meantime, realizes that his mind has taken a back seat for the moment, while his body knows exactly what it wants.
Alex gives him an arch look. She reaches for his jeans, lowers the zipper with a speed that would probably make her daddy livid if he knew, for it speaks to a hell of a lot more that she’s been doing with that boy of hers than holding hands and sharing malts at the soda shop. It’s also about the clearest damned answer that Sawyer guesses he can get. He grins and lowers himself back onto his elbows. “Since you want to get right to the point-“
No, he was wrong. There was one clearer answer that she could have given. Alex ain’t one to take the long way around, either, it would seem. The way that she kneels between Sawyer’s sprawled legs, takes his exposed cock in hand, and only strokes at it a few times before she lowers her head and takes it within her mouth proves tha to be true. Sawyer finds his hand in her hair again, fingers flexing and massaging the scalp, as her warm mouth surrounds him and her tongue swirls around his length from the base all the way up to the tip and back again. Her head bobs up and down with each movement; sure as fuck she didn’t learn how to do this in no malt-shop or on whatever kind of PG-approved chaperoned events that creepy little island chief of a father she’s got must have put on. Sawyer groans and tilts his head back as she flicks her tongue across his head in a move that she ought to be proud of, while one of her hands caresses his balls. The friction is incredible, and Sawyer guesses that sometimes the simple things are the best. He grips the back of her neck when he comes. She doesn’t pull away until she’s swallowed everything down, and her tongue darts out to catch at a small droplet as she raises her head.
Damn, but if she doesn’t watch it Sawyer’s going to wind up wanting her all over again.
“What?” Alex says when she catches the way that Sawyer is looking at her, for a second all that teenaged insolence coming back through like a clear television signal. “I was never going to fuck you; I don’t want a baby exploding out of me at someone’s face.”
“Kamala, if you think that I was disappointed by that then you have a hell of a lot to learn about the ways of men,” Sawyer starts, and then pauses. “Wait, you’ve seen Alien?”
Alex shrugs and lowers her eyes. She won’t get a blush about coming into a near-stranger’s tent and giving him one of the best blowjobs that he’s had in quite a while, but admitting to some pop culture knowledge, that’s embarrassing. Weird girl. “We used to have a movie night.”
“Uh-huh.” Sawyer only lets this process for a few seconds before he stacks it onto the vast and growing pile of things that will make his brain blow up if he lets them stay for too long, and instead flashes Alex the kind of grin that’s been bringing blood to women’s cheeks ever since he was only sixteen himself. Alex is no different. As balls to the wall weird as this girl is, it’s nice to know that she’s like others in that regard. “Come ‘ere.”
“Why?” Alex asks. Sawyer is caught between widening his eyes and rolling them so hard that they fall right out of his head.
“Oh, now I know that Carl ain’t one for the long way around,” he says. “It’s called reciprocity, Kamala. Come on, just lay back and enjoy it.” Alex’s eyes are all pupil, and her lips are still swollen. It’s a good look on her.
Alex lays back when Sawyer nudges at her, flushes even deeper when Sawyer whispers to her, “You and me, you said that we were outsiders, right? Just didn’t know how to be like other folks. Barely even know how to fake it on most days.”
Alex’s chin dips down and into a very slight nod before she manages to catch herself. “I didn’t say that much,” she says.
“Yeah, but it’s what you meant,” Sawyer counters, because he realizes that it’s true, for the both of them. Has been ever since she decided to darken his doorstep and beyond. “Go on, take off your clothes.” At Alex’s look, he flashes that lazy grin again and says, “In case you couldn’t tell, I’m a fan of the scenic route.” He puts himself away while she obeys, exposing those breasts that he had been enjoying so much moments before and long expanses of skin that culminate in a pair of coltish legs. She’s flushed.
“Well,” Sawyer says. She’s beautiful. A little late to be reaching that conclusion, his brain comes back to the party long enough to chirp helpfully at him, but within moments he thinks that his cock is not going to be satisfied in a sated slumber for all that much longer. “Atta girl.” He crawls up her body until he’s reclining partially on top of her, starts with her mouth. Her startled pause breaks when he kisses her as deep and hard as if she is the only woman in the world, the only woman who could ever exist in the entire world. She’s so caught up in it that she nearly jumps out of her skin when Sawyer’s hand cups her breast again. “Shh,” Sawyer murmurs to her. “You gotta work on your trust issues.” He grins as Alex makes another attempt at a half-assed glare before he starts kissing a line down her neck, relishing every jump and twitch as he hits a sensitive patch of skin, down her collar bone and to each breast in turn. The nipples grow harder still as Sawyer takes each of them into her mouth, and her stomach is fluttering by the time that he reaches her navel.
Sawyer loves a woman’s skin, loves the softness of it, loves the way that he can make it flush and respond to him with the very lightest and briefest of touches in exactly the right places. He smiles a little when he finds that Alex is already wet and wanting him by the time that his lips reach the outward edge of her pubic hair. She makes a frustrated sound when he abandons what she so obviously wants and kisses her inner thigh instead so that he can feel her give another one of those fascinating shivers again. A downward glances shows that her toes are curling and flexing impatiently against the sand. Sawyer chuckles.
“Oh, fuck your scenic route,” Alex finally grits. Sawyer only grins wider.
“You got to watch that mouth of yours, girl,” he tells her. “You’re among civilized people now.” He doesn’t wait for her glare or retort before he places his head between those thighs that fascinate him so much, flicks his tongue out against that bud that makes the ladies go wild. Alex gasps and lurches. Now that was what he wanted. Sawyer laps at her, works her with his mouth, until he hears her whining above him and she’s so wet that she’s nearly dripping. Her legs are shaking when Sawyer braces his hands against them to keep her steady, and she gives a final buck before she comes, hard, all but wailing above him. That sound alone is nearly enough to get him hard all over again.
He swats at her thigh and throws her her shirt as he sits up. “Tell you one thing, Kamala, you are something else,” he says. “Now, not to give you the impression that I’m anti-cuddling or that I didn’t have a hell of a time, you’d best skedaddle.”
For a second Alex even looks hurt as she pulls her shirt over her head and then reaches for her jeans. “Why?” she asks. “Don’t you want to do it again? Carl always wants to-“
“Let’s not turn this into a share moment,” Sawyer interrupts. He leans forward as Alex is buttoning up her jeans again and kisses her. If the way that he does ain’t enough to convince here that he isn’t exactly lining up his list of regrets, then he doesn’t know what will. “You’re kind of loud, princess, is the problem, and I think that your mama will kick my ass if she learns about what we just did.”
Alex pauses as she fixes her jeans and flashes him a grin. “Nah,” she says. “She’d go for dynamite.”
“A thought that warms my heart.” Sawyer swats at her thigh again and turns it into an opportunity to caress at her ass. “Now, go on, get.”
“Can I come back tomorrow night?” Alex asks. When Sawyer stares at her, she looks uncertain for a moment before she says, “You were raised by wolves, too. I can tell.”
It’s not a lie. “I wasn’t joking when I said that you were loud,” Sawyer responds, and then pauses before he can feel his face cracking. “Give it a week.”
“Okay,” Alex says, her smile showing a hint of dimple. She slides out of the tent as quietly and unobtrusively as she came.
End