Page 63 of Karma's Kiss

Our confined quarters strangely heighten the fun, and the same goes for the fact that we’re only partially undressed. Sawyer’s shirt is off (thanks to me), but we’ve only slid his jeans and briefs down far enough to let me settle up and over him.

There’s an “Are you sure”, a “Please”, a chuckle, a groan, a long…hard sigh.

“Jesus, Madison.”

I smile a proud little smile then kiss him again. In an instant, what was fun turns into something dangerous and hot. We forgot to turn the car on and now we’re sweaty and making a mess of each other.

Sawyer’s reservations from a few minutes ago are long gone. He’s the one calling the shots now, directing us both. His mouth drags down my neck and his teeth tug on the top of my bra, exposing me more. All the while, he moves me on him, up and down, higher,lower. He thrusts his hips and fills me enough to steal my breath. His hands are so possessive and tight, concrete on my waist.

I whimper and he smiles devilishly in the dark light. I should have realized from seeing him play softball and darts and cards that Sawyer likes to win, and right now, I’m the prize on the table, me and my sanity, which he strips from me with a few swipes of his fingers between my parted thighs. Dexterous, slow, sensual circles pick up pace until I’m melting into oblivion,begging him to stay there, just like that. Sawyer’s found his own rhythm; he’s chasing his own bliss. Finally, I feel him tense and dig his fingers into my waist. He’s barely finished when—

A sharp rap on the passenger window pulls us out of our sex-filled haze.

I blink my eyes open to see red lights swirling behind the glass. A black car is parked a few yards away and there, at the passenger window, is Officer White—the sweet man who volunteers at the elementary school every year, teaching the kids the D.A.R.E. program, the man who dresses up as Santa Claus in the Oak Hill Christmas parade—carefully averting his gaze.

“Get decent, you two. Party’s over.”

Fifteen minutes later, Officer White and I stand on Queenie’s front doorstep, waiting for her to come let me in. He’s already knocked twice, and this is getting more embarrassing by the minute. Neither of us can meet the other’s eyes. I’m pretty sure this man saw my naked butt cheeksor worse.

Queenie finally opens the door, her eyes blinking against the harsh porch light. Her hair rollers are in and she’s tied a robe over her floor-length mumu-style pajama dress.

Officer White wags his thumb toward me. “This yours, Queenie?”

Queenie takes one look at my messy hair and disheveled clothes and purses her lips with disapproval. “Yup. She’s mine all right. Thanks, Dylan.”

CHAPTER 15

After last night,my childhood bedroom is a sanctuary. My Harry Potter sheets are threadbare from being washed eighteen thousand times and my pillow is so mushy it barely supports my head, but in this room, I can almost pretend I’m a child again, problem-free outside of a few puberty pimples and annoying homework assignments.

I could lie here for all of eternity if I had my way, but my anxiety about last night has made it impossible to sleep late. I’m drooling on Hermione’s faded face as vivid memories torture me. My heart rate spikes with each remembered moment. Sawyer’s mouth. His possessive hands. The delicious ache he sated oh so skillfully.

What would have happened if Officer White hadn’t busted us? Would I be waking up in his arms?In his truck?

I throw off my blankets, ignore my pounding headache (hungover doesn’tbeginto cover how I feel), and decide I’m going to push through and finish the run I started last night. I need to sweat out the booze and bad decisions.

I change my route this time, hightailing it away from Doc’s and instead looping past my old elementary school and dancestudio. Without having had breakfast, I don’t make it as far as I’d hoped, and by the time I’m back at Queenie’s, I’m practically dragging my feet up the front walk.

Inside, my mom is perched in her favorite chair in the living room watching her morning show. Her favorite anchor is talking about the health benefits of eating casseroles (I didn’t think there were any) when Queenie mutes the TV. She’s surveying me with interest.

“Sawyer came by this morning looking for you.” The twinkle in her eyes tells me we’re clearly not done discussing last night. I wrongly assumed I could slink off to bed after Officer White dropped me off on the front porch and that’d be the end of it. “He brought a whole tray of coffees from Golden Harvest and a pastry bag filled to the brim. I already ate one of the cinnamon rolls, but there are a few more in the kitchen.”

What?! Sawyer came here this morning while I was on my run?

“Why’d he do that?” I sound almost distraught.

“I don’t know, hun. From the sounds of it, you two had quite a crazy night. Maybe he just wanted to check up on you?”

“What’d you say to him?” I holler to her from the kitchen as I open the pastry bag and find not just cinnamon rolls but a whole selection of mouthwatering treats.

Panicked, I close the bag and stare at the tray of coffees sitting there waiting for me. On the lids, a thoughtful barista took the time to write all the different drink options: latte, coffee w/ cream, cold brew. Sawyer wanted to make sure I had something I like.

Dammit!

“I asked how his night was and if he got home safe,” my mom yells.

I pluck the latte from the tray and head back into the living room. “I’m sure he got homejust fine. From what I understand, Officer White planned to drop him off right after me.”

She hums and gives me a sly smile over the top of her steaming coffee. “Must have beensomeride in the back seat of that cop car together. Wish I could have seen it.”

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