Sawyer
"Give me your hand, Bonnie girl. I'll lift you."
I reach my hand up to the handsome sixteen-year-old boy with long, inky hair. He pulls me up to sit behind him on a moving pump jack, tucking me close between him and my best friend's older brother.
StormI was getting ready to head to the gym when I heard a scream coming directly across the hall from Sawyer’s apartment. It was a blood-curdling, gut-wrenching scream.Her front door was locked, so I kicked it open with no time to grab my lock-picking kit. There was only one bedroom door closed, and that one was locked too, so I kicked it in with my bare foot.Sawyer was crying while sitting with a dead man in her bed. I reacted on instinct, thinking someone hurt once again her. Here we were, just across the hall, and let it happen. I was terrified I was in the wrong place at the wrong time once more.Just as I was about to kill the man I was holding against the wall; Sawyer’s irate voice snapped me out of my trance with a single firm command. How did she do that?She is stark naked, tattooed, and gorgeous. The woman has become a goddess, with soft womanly curves in all the right places. My dick hardens to a painful point in my mesh shorts.What keeps me from acting on my instincts
Sawyer I’m at my club trying to go over the financials, but all I can concentrate on is Storm Diesel Benson. The way his gray mesh shorts barely cover the impressive length within. I made him hard. When I got out of the shower, he wore a navy three-piece suit. No bulge was in his slacks as he was leaning against the door, guarding mine with his arm crossed over a muscular chest and one foot resting against the door. Storm’s black hair was braided down his back. His thick, long black eyelashes make his eyes black as night. His high cheekbones and square angular jaws are part of his Native American Heritage. He is gorgeous to behold. He had a tattoo on his right pectoral of a wolf howling. That continued down his upper arm to a forest scene, with a dark-haired woman kneeling amongst a black wolf, two gray wolves, and a solid white wolf. The woman appeared familiar to me, but I didn’t get the best look. There was another tattoo below it that enc
Sawyer Storm’s car is an ultra-rare piece of classic muscle car beauty in canary yellow. How did he find such a car? It had to cost a fortune to rebuild or buy. How did he afford this? I know nothing about what my boys do for money now. I slide onto the leather upholstery, then he shuts the car door for me. When he starts the engine, the rumble has my panties combusting. I have to clench my thighs together tightly at how turned on the car is making me. Storm side-eyes me, chuckling under his breath. Jerk. He drives the car like it’s his second skin. It isn’t hard to tell that he loves this car. It doesn’t take long to reach the steakhouse. When Storm parks, I think I destroy my ripped skinny jeans along with my underwear. He parks beside a bright orange classic Ford Torino Cobra, which looks to me like a 1970 model, it’s gorgeous. I’ve always had a thing for classic cars. What I’m not expecting to see is the shiny blue Ford GT
Sawyer Lunch was great, but now it was time to run over last night’s finances and make sure all the staff was coming in tonight. I was just finishing up the calls when in bounds one of the greatest loves of my entire life. I didn’t think I would ever love anyone this much. In runs a tow-headed little girl with curls falling all around her little round face. She runs straight for me, jumping into my arms. “Hey, cherub! Did you have fun at Gram and Grumps’ last night?” I squeeze the five-year-old tight in my arms. I missed her this morning. “Yes! I ate lots of ice cream!” She squeals excitedly. “Telling on old Grams again huh, Katie Pop.” In walks Jensen and Carmen’s mom. They are the perfect grandparents to my kids and have helped me out so much, even though neither of us is related to them. Katie shakes her head. “I love you, Grams!” Her speech is clear since we have talked to her as though she was an adult, never once baby-ta
Sawyer On the way home in my blue T-top Firebird, Katie sings Baby Shark on repeat. She knows all the motions and the song word for word. Ask any parent what happens to them when their kid listens to that song. It’s stuck with you for days and you go to bed singing it in your head as you try to sleep. Darius was smart to bring his earbuds to listen to music on my phone instead of listening to what his little sister had picked out. “Mommy, can I have a snack?” Katie asks. We haven’t even been home for five minutes. Kids are always hungry, it seems. “No, I’m going to make dinner. How does pizza toast sound?” Katie replied with an excited, yummy sound. I found a recipe a month ago using frozen garlic Texas toast, pizza sauce, pizza mix cheese, and pepperoni. It’s so easy to throw it on a baking sheet and cook it in the oven. I make a salad to go with it while it bakes. I love being a mom. I wouldn’t trade it for anything
Sawyer It’s after midnight by the time we head to bed, which is nothing new, considering I own a bar and sometimes get calls before closing. Luckily, it was smooth tonight with Jeremy and Cruise, both making sure it all ran smoothly. I have Jeremy in charge of security and Cruise is my manager who occasionally works at the bar if we are short-staffed or become swamped. For the first time in the past five years, memories of what happened to me when I was fifteen are coming back. My trauma came back to haunt me, even though I have dealt with it. These memories shouldn’t be resurfacing now that I’m thriving. Maybe the boys being back is making them come to the forefront. I wake up an hour before dawn screaming again, covered in sweat from my nightmare. There is no way I’m going back to sleep, so I check on the children to make sure I didn’t wake them. Just as I’m closing Darius’s bedroom, there is a loud knock on my door. I throw the doo
Jensen I called my parents to tell them we’d moved back to town. I was biting on a bullet casing the entire time I was talking to my father. I know this wasn’t easy on our parents. We can’t exactly tell them we killed some high school boys, so it was getting trained to be professional killers or to go to prison for thirty years or longer. My parents were told we got a once-in-a-lifetime classified job offer. We couldn’t say what exactly it was we would do for them. Luckily, Sawyer and Nate didn’t bother to correct the lie. They were the only ones who knew most of the truth. So, tonight is a family dinner that they have once a week on Friday nights. Dad demanded all four of us show up, no exceptions. I’m positive they missed the guys as much as they did me. Carter, probably more so. He is the favorite of the group. Carter was forever getting out of trouble as we were growing up, even though he was usually the one to sug
Jensen After dinner, the guys and I head to Storm’s apartment to drink. All of us are still in awe of the fact Sawyer is a mother. Our girl is a mom. “Why didn’t she say anything about the kids when we talked?” Carter asks. “Knowing Sawyer, it’s because she wanted to protect her children. If we’re never going to be around her, why would we need to know?” Storm points out. My parents could have told me about them, but they didn’t either. Then again, it wasn’t their business to inform me. “Sawyer having children changes nothing.” JT is correct. We will willingly still protect those children, same as the rest of our loved ones. “We could have been helping Sawyer raise them. They could have been our kids if we would have stuck around,” I say, still going over the what-ifs of never getting caught and staying in town. “Still can be, but it’s up to Sawyer if she wants us in her life again,” Storm says