Page 27 of A Deceitful Pact

“Fuck, I’m coming. I’m gonna flood this pussy, Riley. What do you say to me?” I growl when her nails scratch the sides of my arms, and her breath gets heavy in my ear. “Come on, use your fuckin’ words. What do you say?”

“Thank you,” she whispers at the same time as I shoot my load, and I hold steady, and as deep inside her as I can get while I watch her take it.

Riley looks nothing like she did when I first got here; her face is red and flustered, her hair’s a mess, and she’s naked from the waist down with her shirt open. But what I like best of all is the fact she’s got my cock stretching her pussy and keeping my cum inside her.

“Holy shit.” Scooping her up from her desk, I rest back on her chair, keeping her tight to my lap and ensuring I don’t slip out of her.

“I’ve never met a man like you before,” she admits, as her legs tremble and her breath comes back to her. “I…I never–”

“You don’t need to try and explain it, I already know,” I tell her, tucking her hair behind her ears and stroking her red cheek with my thumb.

“How do you do it? How do you get me to–”

“Because you let me,” I tell her. “I don’t take the control away from you, Riley. You choose to give it up to me.” She pulls back from me, looking surprised. “Seems like you trust me with way more than just knocking you up.” I pull her head down to my chest so she can rest while she lets that sink in.

RILEY

Iclose the window after Sawyer jumps back out of it, and while I unlock the door, I’m still feeling lightheaded and completely knocked off balance. I have no idea how he can switch between being the town's fun and charming barman, to the man who has me on my knees begging. I’ve never let anyone treat me the way he does when we’re having sex. In any other circumstance, I’d find it degrading, and yet I seem to crave it like a drug.

Today Sawyer laid down some terms of his own, and although they won’t be going into the agreement my solicitor draws up tomorrow, I will adhere to them because he’s right. Sawyer is giving me something very special, he’s giving me a part of himself, and although he won’t be raising my child with me, there's still a chance it could have his eyes or his sense of humor.

God help me if it does.

If I think about that for too long, it makes me feel guilty, and I shouldn’t let it. Me and Sawyer are grown adults who made a pact. I laid everything out to him from the start, and he told me he doesn’t want to be a father. Why shouldn’t what we’re doing feel enjoyable? Sex is supposed to feel good.

I check myself in the mirror by the door before grabbing my purse and heading out of the station to get some air.

It’s a crisp but sunny day in Clearwater Creek. Eleanor is cleaning the florist shop windows, and Eamon from the hardware store holds up his hand when he sees me. I take in the fresh air I came out here for and start thinking that this place really could become home once I’ve rid it of its scum.

“Do you have a gun?” A small voice comes from behind me, and when I turn around, I see a little boy with chocolate all around his mouth, and I smile.

“Not on me,” I answer, realizing that my utility belt is still in my office.

“Could I see it?”

“Christopher, leave Sheriff Hale to her business.” I look past him and see Cheryl Rushford struggling to push a stroller and keep hold of a toddler's hand at the same time.

“It’s fine,” I tell her, crouching down in front of him. “Well, Christopher, maybe next time when you see me, if it’s okay with your momma, I’ll let you take a look at it. But guns are very dangerous things, I need you to promise me that if you see one, you won’t touch it.” I know of far too many accidents involving kids and guns; curiosity is where it usually starts.

“Promise.” He smiles before wiping his nose on his sleeve and rushing past me toward the diner.

“I’m sorry, his daddy was a military man. I guess he’s got his obsession with weapons from him.” She rolls her eyes, still trying to get her toddler under control.

“I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what?” Cheryl laughs.

“Oh, I assumed because you said ‘was’ that you’d lost your husband.” This is why I don’t like to socialize. I’m always putting my foot in my mouth.

“Oh, Christopher’s daddy was never my husband, and I sure didn’t lose him to death. I lost him to a blonde whore from the next town over.” She lifts the uncooperative toddler onto her hip and pushes the stroller to catch up with her son.

“It takes all sorts,” Eleanor remarks as she continues to clean her windows.

“Sorry?” I’m not sure if she was talking to me or to herself, but I guess the polite thing to do is acknowledge her.

“I said it takes all sorts. All sorts of people to make a world. Haven’t you heard that before?” She climbs down from her step ladder, and I hold it steady when it starts to wobble. “Cheryl Rushford, bless her heart.” She shakes her head as she looks across at her. “She just can’t seem to hold a man down. Doesn’t matter how many times she gets herself in the family way. Do you know she has two in middle school?”

“No.” I shake my head, looking across the street and watching her wipe Christopher’s mouth with a wipe despite his protests.

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