CHAPTER 18
Sawyer
“You look beautiful,” Garrison whispers, almost speechless as I cross the room to him.
Slowly, I spin in a circle, letting the dress flow as it was intended to do and giving him a full view. “How did you know this was my grandmother’s?”
He shakes his head, taking my hand in his. “I didn’t. I remember you taking it into that store after you ran over my bike and you were staring at it the other night when we were in the square. I knew it had to be special to you.”
Tears sting my eyes and I nod. “Very… thank you.”
With my dancing heels on, I don’t have to push up on my tippy toes to kiss him. I turn to face him, sliding my arms over his shoulders and lean forward, kissing him softly. I tilt my head, opening my mouth slightly to deepen our kiss but Garrison pulls away, holding his hands out to his side.
“Um… I don’t know where to put my hands.”
I smile, running my hands down the front of his white jacket, smoothly out the wrinkles that aren’t there.
“You seriously want a dance lesson?”
Garrison narrows his eyebrows, bobbing his head up and down. “I don’t wear my dress uniform for no good reason.” He shows that smile that he usually hides as he runs his finger down my cheek. “I want to be in your shoes, Sawyer, I want to feel what you feel when you’re on the dance floor. Teach me.”
My smile turns into a grin and my mind dances quickly, trying to even remember how to dance myself. Letting go of Garrison, I walk over to the iPod docking station and fumble nervously to put my phone in the cradle. Once it’s set, I scroll through my music, trying to find the perfect song to dance to. I smile as I pass an old Billy Joel song that my grandfather used to love.
Pressing play, I stand up and walk back to Garrison, taking his left hand in my right and holding it at shoulder height. “Cup your other hand on my shoulder blade,” I instruct, placing my fingertips on my left hand on the shoulder seam of his jacket. “I’m setting you up to be the lead so you’ll just have to listen to me, okay?”
Garrison nods, looking down at his feet. I move my hand under his chin, lifting up. “No, we don’t look at feet. We look at each other, it’s the only place we look. Understand?”
Garrison nods, his eyes lighting up as he smiles softly. “That will be easy, it’s my favorite place to look.”
I feel my cheeks heat up, but I quickly go on with the instructions. “Our elbows should be shoulder height, straighten your back, and then we count to three. The waltz is done to a three count… one, two, three… one, two, three… We’ll start with our feet together then I’ll step forward with my left foot and you step back with your right foot.”
Garrison’s eyebrows are furrowed in concentration. I reach out, running my finger over his eyebrow, trying to get him to relax. “Just follow me and try not to think about it.”
The music starts and slowly, I step toward Garrison. He stumbles slightly, trying to find the rhythm. He glances down at our feet but I shake my head, making a “tsk, tsk” noise and he lifts his eyes to meet mine. I stare into his, allowing us to connect on a deeper level, one where we don’t have to speak to express our emotions. The physically connection between the two of us is obvious, the mental and emotional one is something I don’t think either of us are willing to admit but it’s there, like the elephant in the middle of the room. Our stare gets even more intense and I find myself thinking deep, scary thoughts so I quickly shake my head.
“My grandfather taught me to waltz to this song. My grandmother loved Billy Joel and he always said this song was for both her and me.”
Garrison nods. “It sounds like you had an amazing childhood.”
I smile. “I did, I couldn’t have asked for it be any better… not even if my father had been around.”
Garrison stops dancing and we stand still in the middle of the living room, the music still floating around us. “Then why are you so set on finding him?”
Answering quickly, and as honestly as possible, I look into his eyes. “Because I have no family left.”
He opens his mouth then stops, contemplating precisely what he wants to say. “Family isn’t just blood. I’ve found over the years that the best family are the people who stick by your side when things get bad, that love you at your worst, and hold their hand out to pick you up when you’re down. You don’t need your father to have family, Sawyer.”
Garrison looks directly into my eyes and I pick up on what he’s implying, knowing that he won’t say it out loud. I slide my hand over the back of his head and he dips down, pressing his lips to mine. This time, he knows exactly what to do with his hands. One grips my hip tightly, while the other runs slightly over my backside as he pulls my body tighter to his. The song ends but our kiss doesn’t. Garrison’s tongue runs over mine and we both continue kissing, more hunger for each other as each second passes. A new song starts up and I smile while we kiss when Charlie Puth’s song Marvin Gaye comes on. We’ll see if Garrison takes the hint…
Garrison
I hate this song, I fuckin’ hate this song, but God, I want to do exactly what it’s telling me to do. Sawyer’s lips taste so sweet on mine, so sweet and innocent which is why I’m holding back from going any further. I grip my hand on her ass, trying to convince myself that we need to stay in this living room and that we shouldn’t do any more than kiss. Then again, I made this grandiose gesture off Cuzzo’s suggestion. He told me Sawyer’s a strong woman, that she’ll be fine so I just need to trust him. Still, I question what should happen next.
Lifting my head, I roll my lips together, enjoying the taste of Sawyer on my mouth. “We should change this song.”
Sawyer shakes her head, licking her own lips. “No.”
I frown and draw my eyebrows down. “Why not?”
She cocks her head to the side, lifting one eyebrow and looking at me like I’m an idiot. “Don’t deny this attraction, Garrison. What are you scared of?” she calls me out in a bold manner that I would only expect from her.
Looking directly into her eyes, I nod. “That it won’t be enough. That I’ll never have enough of you, Sawyer Kingham, that I’ll never be able to have any more.”
Sawyer draws in her breath and for a few seconds, I don’t know if she’s going to cry, laugh, or slap me across the face. It’s the most honest I’ve ever been with her, laying the truth out there for her to take it however she’d wish. Then, suddenly, her face goes blank and she takes a step away from me.
“Don’t be scared,” she says softly, moving her hands to the buttons on my jacket. One by one, she undoes them until it’s wide open, showing off my white undershirt. Her hands move inside my jacket, slowly rubbing them over the thin fabric of my shirt. I close my eyes, trying not to moan, but it’s too late. Then, I feel her lips on my neck and I let out a sigh.
“Sawyer…” I mumble, not sure what I even intend to say next. I open my eyes and move my hand to her chin, forcing her to stop kissing my neck because it’s making all the blood in my body rush somewhere it shouldn’t in this exact moment. I take her hand in mine, bringing it to my lips and kissing her knuckles.
She looks at me confused as I walk us toward the couch. I guide her to sit down, shrugging off my jacket and dropping to my knees. I squat between her knees, parting her legs. My hands move to her ankles, moving underneath her dress as I push the material higher up her legs until it rests around her waist. My fingers slide up and down her thighs as I stare at her white thong, the only thing blocking my view of her ladyhood. I glance up at Sawyer, asking one more time for permission. She nods, biting her bottom lip in anticipation. Judging from the look in her eyes and the growing bulge in my pants, I know I can’t delay this any longer.
My finger moves to the damp white material, moving up and down it very slowly. Sawyer tilts her head back against the couch cushions, closing her eyes. I lean down, licking the thong and inhaling her sweet scent. I close my eyes, knowing I have to work quickly because this woman is enticing me faster than anyone ever has. I push the material to the side, replacing it with my tongue. Sawyer gasps and her hand moves to the back of my head, holding me in place. Smiling, I obey her silent wish, licking between her lips as she gets wetter and wetter. Then, without notice, I slide my finger inside her. She cries out my name and my dick gets harder. As much as she’s enjoying this, I need to be inside her… soon. I move my mouth to the top of her lips, sucking lightly until I pull her bundle of nerves into my mouth. Another finger slips inside her and I move them rapidly as I suck a little harder. Sawyer twists underneath me, holding my head steady so I don’t stop as she cries out my name along with a “please,” a “don’t stop,” and “oh my gaaa…”
Satisfied that I haven’t lost the touch and loving that Sawyer is thoroughly pleased, I reach between my own legs, unzipping my pants and pulling out my rock hard dick. I stroke myself as Sawyer shudders in my mouth and my fingers get wetter. Her body quivers as she calms down from her quake while her hand goes from holding me in place to lightly petting my hand in appreciation.
Standing up slowly, I push my pants down, but not before I pull a condom out of my pocket. Talk about embarrassing, go into the pharmacy in a small town and try buying condoms without the whole town finding out. Staring down at this gorgeous woman in front of me, I don’t care about the embarrassment I went through to buy condoms, it was worth every last bit of it. Sawyer takes the condom from me, unwrapping it. She wraps her hand around my cock, stroking it softly and I close my eyes, not afraid to hold back my moans this time. Her hand feels tight against my throbbing manhood and I don’t ever recall a woman’s touch feeling this good.
I open my eyes, looking down at her. Our eyes meet, and she pulls away her hand, rolling the condom down my shaft. She stands up, turning her back to me. Tentatively, I lower the zipper on the back of her dress. Sawyer shrugs her shoulders, letting it fall to the floor then turning around to face me. I take her seat on the couch, looking into her eyes yet again. With a soft smile, she straddles my legs, guiding my manhood into her, inch by inch. Her hands rest on my shoulders, squeezing her hands against them with each movement. Once I’m fully in, I wait, letting her get used to the feeling.
She leans her forehead against mine and whispers softly, “We were meant for each other, Garrison. You know that, right?”
I close my eyes, barely nodding.
Her hips grind against mine and slowly, I thrust upward. Almost immediately, like our relationship, we find our groove, her push pleasures my pull, and vice versa. Her grip gets tighter on my shoulders and I feel myself throbbing deep inside her. Her comment rings in my ears and I’m not sure if I’m scared or satisfied because she’s more than right, we were meant for each other, and the fact that I might never be this connected with her ever again scares me more than having never felt a connection like this in my entire lifetime.