Page 46 of Unravel Me

I skid to a stop, my bike turning sideways and sparks flying again. Fighting to keep my bike upright, I scarcely miss wiping out, and pull over to the side to catch my breath. I take off my helmet and bend at the waist, bracing my hands on my knees. My legs are shaking and my stomach flops. Before I know it, I’m retching the contents of my stomach into the ditch. I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand before taking a deep breath of the clean mountain air and letting my emotions settle.

Fuck everything else.

I want my goddamn girl.

Time to get my shit together and make sure she doesn’t ever question that.

Chapter 18

IVY

Sawyer dropped me off at my house after breakfast but wouldn’t leave without putting my number in his phone. He sent me a text so that I had his.

Unknown: You’re so beautiful.

A blush blooms across my cheeks. This morning didn’t go at all how I had pictured it in my head. I spent the last decade villainizing myself to the point that I genuinely believed the narrative I had created—that no one in this town would accept me back into it. Being met with kindness was a shock to mysystem. When I left Aspen Ridge, leaving Sawyer and everything I’d ever known and loved behind, I didn’t get any closure. Everyone’s lives kept going without me, as if I had been erased altogether. Every step I was forced to take on my own, a brick was laid, building my wall higher and higher.

I expected heartbreak and fear.

I didn’t expect to lose myself entirely in the process.

Meeting Zoe saved me from years of complete loneliness. But overall, I learned to function, holding myself together but always living on the edge of uncertainty, walking through a life that I didn’t want for myself.

Seeing Sawyer again has thrown me completely off my axis, rattling the foundation of the structure I deliberately placed to hold me together.

After so long on my own, to be seen, feel safe, secure, and protected? It’s messing with me. The memory of Sawyer’s filthy words and the feeling of his arms wrapped around me have been on repeat all day.

“Tell me, butterfly, if I touched your pussy right now, what would I find? Would you be dripping wet for me?”

He wasn’t wrong. Being in such close proximity to him again lit my body on fire. It didn’t matter the weight that hung between us like a heavy cloud before a storm. The tension and chemistry is stronger than anything else. He stokes a need in me that only he can sate.

Warmth pools between my legs, my core aching and pulsing in need at the thought of being with him again. If he had followed through on his threat to touch me, he knew the truth as much as I did. I was dripping for him, even while we fought and I poured my heart out. My hand creeps up under my shirt to touch my breasts. I pull at my nipples, twisting and pinching, knowing that they are a direct line straight to my aching center. I imagine it’s Sawyer’s mouth over my nipples, sucking and biting lightly,pushing me right to the brink of needy insanity. Closing my eyes and picturing him hovering above me, his hands all over my body, the rough feel of his beard on my soft, smooth skin, my clit throbs in need. I shimmy my leggings down past my knees and let my legs fall open, trembling slightly in anticipation. Lightly rubbing my fingers up the insides of my thighs, working myself up further, I’m lost to the desperate desire that it’s Sawyer touching me instead of myself. I imagine his praise, something that I had no idea would feel so good to hear. I let his words from my panic attack wash over me, imagining the situation differently.

“You’re doing so well.”

“That’s my girl.”

I let my imagination spiral, adding some of my own that I would want to hear—“Such a good girl. Do you want to come, baby?” So, so badly.

I finally slip my fingers down my seam and dip them into the wetness at my center. I press in two fingers and pump them a few times before I slide them up to my sensitive, swollen clit and swirl them in firm, slow circles. Moans escape me as my hips and body start to chase the impending orgasm. My free hand continues to pinch and twist my nipples as I slip my fingers back down to press inside me. My orgasm builds and builds as I let myself go. I rub my clit with my palm as I fuck myself with my fingers, hips gyrating, Sawyer’s name on my lips.“Come for me.” I hear him whisper as if he was really here with me. “Come for me, baby.”

I combust. I’m washed away with wave after wave of pleasure that rocks through my body. My pussy pulses around my fingers as I come harder than I have in years. Once I’m too sensitive to be touched further, I remove my hand and catch my breath. Sex was good with Sawyer, but we were fumbling teenagers who had no idea what they were doing. The thought of him touching menow? Fucking hell. If it was even half as good as just the thought of him was, I wouldn’t survive it.

I pull up my leggings and go to the bathroom to wash my hands as my phone starts to ring with Zoe’s incoming video call.

I dry them quickly before returning to the couch and answering her. Her smiling face greets me, her short hair pulled in a half-up top knot that I swear only she can make look cute.

“Hi, ZoZo!”

“Holy shit, babe, you’ve got that ‘I’ve been fucked’ glow.”

Nothing gets past her. I wiggle my fingers in front of the camera and give her a little smile.

“Ahh. A self-induced digit fuck. Whatever works.”

I laugh at her.

“I miss you!”

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