Sawyer (Carolina Reapers 2)

Faith proceeded to give Lukas a super-fast yet somehow super-sexy kiss.

“It may be a little hard to keep it interesting,” I joked with Connell. “Seeing as how half this group is married and the other half…” I gestured to Sawyer and Logan. “Is straight-laced.”

Faith snorted while Sawyer scoffed at me.

“Hold up,” Faith said after taking a fast drink. “You think Sawyer is straight-laced?”

I smiled. “I didn’t say it was a bad thing.”

“No, no, I get that,” Faith said. “But seriously, Sawyer? Speaking as someone who lived with him for three years? I’ve heard things no one should have to hear.”

“I can attest to that as well,” Harper added. “There was an entire week in March he ruined because the girl wouldn’t stop screaming for hours every night. Sounded like he—”

“Sawyer is sitting right here,” he interrupted her, rolling his eyes as he sipped his whiskey.

I eyed Faith, still unbelieving.

“Fine, here I’ll prove it. Sawyer pick truth.”

He laughed. “I don’t know why I let you women boss me around.”

“I do,” Connell said.

Sawyer sighed. “Truth.”

“Where is the craziest place you’ve had sex?” Faith smirked.

“Oh, now we’re getting somewhere.” Connell rubbed his palms together as he glanced at Vestergaard. “Your wife is a spitfire.”

“You have no idea,” Lukas muttered, tucking her in close to his side.

Sawyer raked his fingers through his hair, his eyes calculating.

I chewed my bottom lip, preparing myself for the cute boy-next-door answer like in the back of my pick-up truck by the lake or in my long-term girlfriend’s beach house at sunset.

“There are a few runners up,” he finally said, elbows on his knees as he hooked the crowd’s attention. “Like the time against the window in Club Thirty-Five’s VIP lounge,” he said, and Faith and Harper’s mouths dropped. “Or the restroom at the Blue Lagoon during a Hozier concert.”

My heart rate kicked up at the thought of Sawyer getting off in a public place—the thought was so not the stand-up guy who would kiss your cheek at the end of the night like he portrayed himself to be.

“But the real winner was with Amber Hodgekins, senior year, back of the bus.”

“What?” Faith laughed, and I echoed her question.

“Those other two were runners up to a bus?” I tsked him.

“It wasn’t about the bus,” he said. “Or the fact that there were fifteen other students on it. It wasn’t about being in public. It came down to one, primal need. I wanted her. So badly I couldn’t wait until we got back to my house. And she wanted me too. So it was a quick, shove-the-panties-to-the-side, thank-God-you’re-wearing-a-skirt kind of moment.”

Our group of friends was silent save for a whistle from the Scotsman.

Sawyer turned toward me, noting my parted lips and my eyes that likely gave away my shock at his answer.

“What?” he asked, tinkling the ice in his whiskey glass. “Haven’t you ever been that consumed with need? Hasn’t anyone ever made you feel like that?”

I shut my mouth and swallowed hard.

I loved sex, but I’d never needed it so bad that I couldn’t wait.

But that low, pulsing ache in my core now? It was pushing me to that damn edge. The one that screamed if I didn’t at least have a taste of Sawyer McCoy soon, I’d combust.

Just a taste. That’s all I’d need.

Then I could drop him back to the customer-only category.

Because neither of us had time for the other, and maybe that was why I wanted him so badly.

That, and the fact that he smelled like dessert and looked like the best kind of wet dream. Those long, lucid slow-burn dreams where you can feel every single sensation down to your toes.

“Connell, truth or dare,” Sawyer asked.

“Dare, naturally.”

Sawyer glanced to me, then headed toward the bar. He came back with an empty shot glass and a box of matches with the Scythe logo on it. He poured a shot of scotch into the glass, then struck the match, lighting the shot on fire. He leaned close to me. “I’m guessing you’d stop me if this wasn’t allowed,” he whispered.

I waved him on.

“I dare you to take this shot.” Sawyer gently pushed the flaming shot near the Scotsman, the rest of the group leaning away from the fire.

Connell smirked. “That’s a Tuesday night back home, rookie.” He scooped up the shot and tossed it back, the flame extinguished with the fast movement. He slammed the empty glass upside-down on the table. “Lemme’ show you what a real dare is,” he said, pointing his finger at Sawyer.

He rolled his eyes. “Fine. Dare.”

“I dare ye to kiss Echo Hayes.”

Oh hell fucking yes. I’d wanted to know what those lips felt like since he walked into the bar for the first time, and with no-strings attached? Major bonus.

“What are we, five?” Sawyer chuckled, taking another sip of his whiskey.

Don’t freeze up, West Coast.