Page 45 of The Inevitable Us

I’m not sure what it is on his face that makes me run, but I do, crossing the table only to find my exit blocked by him.

“You said run!” I accuse, darting to the left, on the other side of the table, and find he’s faster again. I decide to fake him out, moving quickly to the right and then an immediate left, and I’m captured in his arms and fall to the kitchen rug.

He straddles my hips and pulls my hands over my head. “Say you’re sorry, woman!”

“No,” I insist.

“Say you’re sorry,” he tries again, his tone soft as if talking to a toddler.

“Fine, I’m sorry!” I protest, wiggling to try to get from under him.

His eyes roll upward, and he breathes in deeply. “Rosalie, you’d try the patience of a saint.”

He leans down and presses a hard kiss to my lips. He starts to get off my hips, popping my bottom with a playful swat as he moves off of me to answer his ringing phone.

“Did you tell her we can’t put the cameras in a fake tree because that impedes the lens?” he asks, moving away from me. “No, wait, I’m just going to come now.”

He doesn’t come back to eat, but I bring a plate for him and Laighton into the office an hour later. Sawyer briefly looks up from the phone and mouths, “Thank you,” and scowls at the second covered paper plate I set down in front of Laighton.

I don’t see him again until long after I’m asleep. He wakes me with kisses on my back and pulls me onto my hands and knees from my stomach, entering me once I’m ready for him. After I orgasm, he finishes with a loud groan and peppers sweet kisses down my spine.

When I move to clean up, he pulls me back, “No, sleep like this. I like it when you smell like me.”

He moves me half on top of him, and we doze back off with his hands on my ass.

Chapter twenty-three

Rosalie

Ishowerquietlyanhour later when my alarm goes off, trying to not wake him up. “Come here after school,” he yawns from the bed. “I’ve got to work, and I’d like for you to be close.”

“Bring more clothes over with you so I can take you back to the range,” he reminds me before I walk out the door. “And tell the new doorman to hold a package for you if it comes while you’re here. I had some extra shit for Ranger sent to your house.”

I look at him curiously. What new doorman? Pete was there yesterday, and there’s been no notice or sign he’s leaving. Shrugging, I tiptoe down the stairs as Sawyer goes back to sleep.

Sure enough, when I enter the elevator later that day, a new doorman is waiting. “Good afternoon, Mrs. Benson. I’m Jeremiah, the new doorman. There’s a package for you.”

I laugh at the misuse of Sawyer’s surname when the lease is under the name of one of my dad’s LLCs, and I’m registered for school under my mom’s maiden name for safety reasons. How does he even know what I look like? Weird.

“Thanks… you’re new?” I inquire. “I’m actually Miss Montgomery,” I answer, using my mother’s maiden name. “Mr. Benson is my boyfriend.”

“Yep, hired yesterday afternoon. The management company said they needed someone to start immediately,” he answers smartly.

Shaking off the unease, I bring the package up to my loft and start packing clothes to bring to Sawyer’s. A lot of my things are already there since we tend to stay there unless he’s off and I’m not. I love the cabin and the view of the pond from the large window in the den. I sometimes go outside to visit with the overly domesticated animals in their enclosures.

When my phone alerts, I check my texts:

Sawyer: Where are you? Waiting to finish that movie with you.

I roll my eyes at him. I’ve only been out of class for about ten minutes.

Rosalie: You promised we’d go to the shooting range!

Sawyer: If you hurry up, we can do both. ‘

It’s early enough that there’s no traffic going towards the ranch. I let myself into the gate and see a gray minivan parked in my usual spot.

A woman is next to the van, seemingly arguing with Sawyer as she hands him a toddler. It must be his sister Angelique.

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