Plate of food in front of her, Naomi suddenly had to force herself to eat. Sawyer had said they could talk about anything, but had been pretty tight-lipped since then. The looks he was shooting her way, though, spoke volumes.

The heat in his eyes made her skin flush and burn. It felt like only his touch could relieve the fire spreading through her. The steak she was making herself chow down on was delicious, but it could hardly distract her from playing that kiss they had shared over and over in her head, only working herself up more.

Jesus. I don’t think I’ve ever felt such pure… lust for someone.

Naomi had already trusted Sawyer with a lot. Would she trust him with her body, too? Should she? The swirling excitement in her gut told her that on some level, she had already decided the answer was ‘yes’.

Sawyer’s eyes snapped to her once more, and she watched him wrap his lips around a glass of water. Her own mouth was now drier than the Sahara, the implications of being alone with him in his apartment ramping up the tension gripping her body.

“You smell like trouble,” he remarked, after a sip of his drink.

“I don’t know what you mean,” she replied, gulping down her own water in an attempt to sound less hoarse.

His nose ridged as he took in a deep breath, and the way he looked at her as he did made a shiver run down her spine. This was a dangerous game they were playing. It felt like anything could happen at any moment.

And she had never felt so alive.

“People’s scents change all the time,” he explained, leaving his fork and knife on the plate and folding his hands on the counter. “It’s subtle. Each person still has that smell unique only to them. But in certain situations, it can take on different notes. Pheromones, for example, add an unmistakable layer of smoky sweetness.”

“Pheromones?” she questioned, even though she knew very well where he was going with this.

But if she let him do the talking, maybe he wouldn’t pick up on the sense of pure need slipping into her tone. She crossed her legs on the barstool where she was sitting opposite Sawyer, and let her eyes wander around his hard body.

I’m not really surprised he doesn’t get out much. Women must throw themselves at him as soon as he steps into the street.

Sawyer nodded, slowly getting up from his seat. Naomi’s heart thundered in her chest as he walked around the counter, as casual as a predator who is sure of his next meal.

“You can really smell it at the pulse points,” Sawyer went on, standing beside her as she swiveled in her chair to face him. “The warmth from your blood expels your scent into the air,” he said, reaching out to trace a finger down the side of her neck.

Naomi felt her pulse jump against his touch, her insides tightening and clenching. He just stood over her, the way he looked at her enough to turn her on like never before.

“And do I smell smoky then?” she asked, her voice only a whisper.

“You smell like you want to kiss me again,” he replied.

Naomi gulped. Could he really smell that on her, or was he just messing with her? In the end, it didn’t really matter. She didn’t even have a chance to say anything before Sawyer’s mouth came crashing down on hers, his hand grabbing the back of her head.

Naomi sank backwards in her chair, melting under the force of his kiss. The outside world melted away, and in a flash, nothing mattered except getting more of him, and giving more of herself.

Her relationship with Sawyer had been a whirlwind from the start, and it only made sense when they finally gave in to their desires, it would cause a tidal wave like no other. Naomi let her hands roam over his body as she got up from her seat, pressing herself against him.

He growled deep in his throat, grabbing hold of her shoulders, his large hands sliding down her arms and to her back. Nipples already aching, Naomi moaned when her breasts rubbed against his chest, the lengths of their bodies crushing together.

Their dinner forgotten, there they stood in the middle of the kitchen, kissing like they couldn’t possibly get enough of each other. She let out a long sigh when his hands reached her ass, grabbing her buttocks and squeezing.

Her clit was already throbbing, her panties already wet, her blood boiling at the thought of getting to touch his bare skin. Fingers slipping past the edge of his t-shirt, she let her fingernails graze across his lower back before she moved toward his shoulders, pushing his shirt up.

Before long, they were all but ripping each other’s clothes off, the passion between them ramping up until it felt like it might consume them whole.

“You’re beautiful,” Sawyer murmured against her swollen lips. “I want all of you to be mine.”

Arching her back, Naomi groaned in anticipation. His back muscles flexed beneath her touch as she ground her pussy against his thigh. The moment he kissed her again, she had known this was it. There wasn’t enough willpower in the world to resist a man like Sawyer.

And she didn’t want to.

With the sheer insanity that was her life, he had quickly become her port in the storm. Why not give in to her hunger for him? This wasn’t the Middle Ages. Women didn’t get sent to monasteries to repent for the sin of premarital sex anymore. Her body was hers, and in that moment, she wanted nothing more than to share it with the man that made her feel like the sexiest woman in the world.

With her shirt already somewhere on the floor, Naomi broke their kiss to tug at Sawyer’s clothes. He gladly helped her, pulling his t-shirt over his head and tossing it aside. Naomi stood in awe for a second, even hesitating before reaching out and pressing her palm against where his heart was.

Sawyer looked more like a marble statue of a Greek god, chiseled to perfection, cut in a way she was half-afraid she’d hurt herself on those six-pack abs of his. Shoulders broad and sinewy, waist narrow and rippling, Sawyer stood before her, looking down at her as if she were the perfect one, not him.

“Holy shit,” she muttered, clamping a hand over her mouth as soon as the words escaped her mouth.

Sawyer chuckled, shooting her a wicked grin.

“Not what you expected when you pictured me naked?” he teased.

“No, it’s not that…” Naomi trailed off, biting her lip.

“So you have pictured me naked?” he quirked a brow at her.

This was a whole new, devious side to Sawyer, and Naomi blushed and laughed at the same time.

“What’s this, interrogation tactics?” she replied, letting her hand trail down his stomach, down to his belt. “That’s not playing fair.”

“Who said anything about fair?” he countered, tracing a finger over the outline of her bra.

Before she could even say anything, he had dropped to his knees. Kissing around her navel, his fingers went to work on unbuttoning and unzipping her jeans. Naomi leaned back against the counter, clutching onto its edge.

She gasped when Sawyer pulled her pants down with one swift yank, exposing her plain cotton panties. Maybe if she had known how her night was going to end, she would have run and changed before Sawyer started cooking her food.

But she didn’t think about that for too long, as her attention was entirely occupied by Sawyer, kissing and licking her inner thighs. Gently, she pushed her legs apart, as he glanced up at her with hazy eyes before sliding a finger down her slit through the fabric of her panties.

Naomi’s breath caught, her head tilting back, yet she couldn’t look away from Sawyer kneeling between her thighs. Slowly, he peeled off her panties, and she stepped out of them, one foot at a time.

Hands sliding up the length of her legs, Sawyer kissed around her pussy, making her writhe. Her lust had become a palpable force in the room, pushing her toward the quickest path to release, yet Sawyer took his time.

Teasing, he built up the tension inside her, until she was sure she couldn’t take it anymore. She wanted to let go of the edge of the counter, to bury her fingers in his hair, but she was afraid her knees would give out from under her.

When Sawyer spread her pussy open with one long lick, she shuddered, a wave of heat rushing over her back. She had to accept she no longer had any control of her reactions when she bucked her hips, grinding her pussy against his mouth with reckless abandon.

Nothing mattered but the pleasure Sawyer was showering her with. Ignoring her own whimpers, she listened to him growl and purr as he ate her pussy, vocal evidence of his need for her being just as strong as hers for him.

The urgent tension inside her curled and coiled, reaching to scratch an unreachable itch. Sawyer’s rough tongue laved against her sensitive clit, sending pleasure surging up her spine.

When he added his hands to the mix, easily sliding a finger into her wet pussy, she couldn’t contain the loud moan that escaped her lips. This man knew how to push all of her buttons. And she never wanted him to stop.