Page 110 of Waiting For Fate

After about three vodka cranberries, two strawberry margaritas—that Sawyer was not shy about taking massive sips from—and two tequila shots later, Lyssa and I are on the dance floor giggling, singing and swaying our hips to the music.

“Come with me,” she yells, and I follow blindly behind her. Next thing I know, she’s pulling me up on the platform with her. “That guy kept bumping into my ass, this way we’re untouchable.” She’s still yelling as the song changes, and when “Down On Me” by Jeremih starts bumping through the speakers it feels like I’m back in high school all over again. Only this time, I have this newfound confidence and a shit ton of alcohol to encourage me to actually dance to it.

“Oh my god, I love this song!” she screams.

And then we turn into complete whores—and it’s the most fun I think I’ve ever had.

We bounce and grind and shake our asses on each other like we’ve known each other forever and when she bends over to twerk her ass in front of me, I give it a good smack and we fall into a fit of laughter.

“Hell yeah!” I hear someone shout from the crowd.

“Sexy as fuck!” someone else yells.

I begin looking around the room and when I can’t tell where it’s coming from, I settle my gaze on our table, only to see Sawyer and Matty both heading in our direction.

I’ve seen Sawyer in pretty much everything—his hockey uniform, a three-piece suit, a hoodie and jeans, boxers, nothing—but it never fails, I find new things to love about him in every single thing he wears. Tonight, for instance, he is in a pair of dark-blue jeans, green and black high-top sneakers, a black T-shirt that hugs him in all the right places, and a black ball cap that is getting turned backwards as he gets closer to the stage.

Aaaand I’m wet.

Just when I think they’re going to rip us from the stage—throwing us over their shoulders and hauling us out of here—they step up onto it with us.

He pulls me into him, my back flush with his front and his hands slide down to my hips as he begins rocking his with mine to the music. I reach up, letting my hands fall comfortably around the back of his neck as we move together. While swaying my hips, I turn in his grip and we keep moving while he sings along, looking at me like he could absolutely devour me.

“Bathroom, now,” he growls into my ear. I lean back to see the hungry look in his eyes and nod as we make our way towards the far wall. When we bypass the lines to the restroom I wonder if there’s some sort of VIP one I am unaware of.

Holy shit, there is.

When Sawyer sees the confused look on my face he smirks and answers my unasked question. “This is Devon’s brother’s club. We get a bit of special treatment here.” He punches in a four digit code to the keypad on the door, the light turning green with a click as it unlocks. Then he pulls me in behind him, slamming the door shut once we’re inside.

He pulls me to him and his lips come crashing into mine with desperation. I wrap my hands around the back of his neck as he lifts my ass up onto the sink counter, spreading my legs to step between them. His lips move down my neck all the way to the neckline of my corset, my hands tangling in his hair as my head falls back, savoring the feeling of his lips on my skin.

Our eyes meet again when his hands disappear beneath my skirt, and I nod eagerly, lifting my hips so he can slide my underwear off. Then he hits his knees, wrapping my legs around his shoulders as he pulls my ass to the very edge of the counter. My mind feels so light from the buzz of the alcohol that my body is more relaxed than I think it’s ever been. It doesn’t take long before he’s bringing me to the edge of my first orgasm.

“Sawyer, I’m gonna come,” I whisper as my head falls back on the mirror. Almost as fast as I can get the words out, I make good on my word. My legs wrap tighter around him as he continues kissing and sucking my clit, devouring me like the animal I’ve discovered he is.

Then he’s on his feet again. “Can you stand?”

Um, probably the hell not.

I feel like I’m having an out of body experience as I watch the sexiest man I’ve ever laid eyes on undo his belt and free himself from his boxers. I manage to slide off the marble and land on my feet—thank god.

“Turn around; hands on the sink.” My thighs squeeze together at the command. I turn around and place my hands palm down on the cool surface. Then he wraps his hands around my waist and pulls me back, pressing my back down as he flips my skirt up. My breath is caught in my throat as I watch his muscular arms flex as he puts me where he wants me.

“Breathe for me, Dove.” I take a deep breath in, but before I can completely release it, he slams into me, and I cry out in pure pleasure. I welcome the warmth and press my ass further into him, loving the stretch from his cock and the way he always manages to hit that sweet spot that makes me see stars.

His grip on my hips is as unrelenting as every thrust into me, and his eyes remain locked on mine through the mirror the entire time.

“You know, you asked me once before what my favorite position was,” he growls, slowing his pace.

Teasing me.

Torturing me.

“I always preferred this position because I could imagine it was whoever I wanted if I wasn’t looking them in the face.” My eyes snap up to his in the reflection.

What the fuck? Why is he saying this to me? And why now?

“Wanna know who I always imagined?”

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