Chapter 3
SAWYER
I’ve never been the most humble person. And for a situation that requires being one, I don’t even know how to start.
How can I tell a woman who hates me that I wouldn’t mind making her come on my tongue? Because I sure as hell wouldn’t.
Not tonight.
The tequila is finally kicking in, asserting itself.
Feeling horny beats feeling sad as hell any day, and I decide to choose the former.
Eyes hazy, heart jackhammering, I lean over, slamming the bathroom door and locking it, my hand steady. A moment later, I slide that same hand along the seams of Naomi’s jeans, smile brightening as I swipe fingers over her denim-covered hips, my hands slow as they brush over her skin.
I hold out my hands for her to see. “Look, Ma, no strings.” I shift on my knees, hoping they won’t gi
