Alexa was quiet for a moment. A beat too long, it seemed because Sawyer's face clouded with worry. The muscles in his chest were tight as his body hovered over hers. Even still, she could feel his heart racing. His hands caressed the side of her face, brushing her hair back. “Say somethin'.”
“I-I-I can't,” she said, honestly. “Nothing I could say would ever sound that good.”
He offered her a smile and although it was small, it reached his eyes and danced behind them. “You liked that, did you?”
She nodded.
“I guess I'll have to remember to tell you all the time.”
She liked the idea of him wanting to tell her anything all the time. “I might just love you forever, Sawyer West.”
“It'd be an honor to be loved by you,” he whispered. “Even if it's only for a second, for a minute, for an hour, but especially forever.”
Could his words possibly be any more perfect? She needed to change the subject before self control was merely something to reminisce about. The things he spoke so effortlessly about would indeed be her undoing. “Lane said maybe you'd teach me the piano,” she said.
He buried his face in her neck, his breath tickling the nerves in her skin. “He did, did he?”
“Yeah,” she replied. “And I really need you to stop doing that.”
He applied the smallest pressure with his lips at the base of her throat. “This.”
“Yes,” she said. “That among other things.”
She couldn't see his face but she felt the curve of his mouth. He was grinning. “Why?”
“Because I said so.”
He kissed her neck again. “You're bossy.”
“I'm thinking rationally,” she corrected. “At least for now.”
He ignored her. The shirt she wore gave him relatively easy access to her collarbone which he kissed from one side to the other, before mumbling, “Stay with me tonight.”
“If I say yes, will you stop doing that?”
Sawyer lowered his fingertips and let them gently rake across her stomach and she groaned. “Maybe.” He looked at her with lidded eyes and gave her a crooked, half-smile. “Okay, I'm sorry. You really want me to teach you how to play something?”
“Yes,” she said. “I'd like that very much.”
Sawyer righted himself and stood, offering his outstretched hand to help her up. He sighed and Alexa wasn't sure if it was out of irritation or relief—maybe both. “Go sit at the bench,” he whispered. “I'll be there in a second.”
He left the room and she followed his instructions, taking at seat at the piano. Did he leave because the tension building between them was too much? She was no expert, but she imagined Sawyer had far more experience than her in that department—surely he wasn't having a difficult time controlling himself. When she heard the kitchen cupboard open and a tap turn on, he answered her question. He was getting himself a glass of water.
She traced her fingers along the cool ivory of the keys. It was without question a stunning piano and suddenly she felt as though perhaps she shouldn't touch it. She withdrew her hand like it was touching a flame.
She didn't hear him return to the room, but the dark, distressed denim of his jeans flanked either side of her hips and slid down her legs as glided himself in behind her. His voice was deep and low and sent a vibration of shivers straight down her spine like electricity. “It's not going to bite you, sugar.”
