His Everlasting Love: 50 Loving States, Virginia by Theodora Taylor Page A

in the large pan. The tap of his prosthesis to the upbeat country song against the floor. He struck her as…happy. Which was fascinating in and of itself. She’d never seen him look this way before. Like he was totally at peace.
    But then he glanced up, catching her in the act of staring. “Gimp leg keeps pretty good time, huh?”
    She raised her eyes to meet his. “I wish you wouldn’t call it that,” she told him truthfully. “I don’t like it, and I’m real sure it’s not endearing your leg to you when you call it that.”
    She expected Sawyer to fight her on this. But after a thoughtful moment, he just flipped the omelet and said, “Alright. If you don’t want me to call it that anymore, I won’t.”
    Willa smiled, happy he’d decided to start being more respectful where his leg was concerned.
    But then he abruptly turned off the flame, even though the omelet was only halfway done.
    “Everything okay?” she asked. Still unable to stop herself from worrying over him. Caring, despite…
    “No, it isn’t.” He bowed his head. “I thought I could do this.”
    “Do what—”
    Before the question was fully out of his mouth. He had her in his arms.
    Ramekins crashed to the ground. All those fixings gone in one sweep of Sawyer’s arm. Then she was up on the counter, Sawyer’s hands at her hips as he kissed the everlasting hell out of her.

11
    Sawyer kissed her.
    Not just because he wanted to, but because he felt compelled to. Because somewhere deep down in his soul, he absolutely had to.
    That strange déjà vu feeling was back. Riding him hard as he reached underneath the hem of her nightshirt and wrenched the sensible cotton panties right off of her. Then he found the tight button between her legs with his thumb. “Get wet for me, baby,” he said against her lips. “I need inside of you.”
    Her moan was the best answer she could have given him. But then she said, “Sawyer, we shouldn’t…”
    Fuck that. She wanted him, too. He could feel her hot nub swelling against his thumb, and when he pushed two fingers into her tunnel, her sex squeezed them tight, hot and wet, juices already coming down. For him. For this.
    He kissed her some more, convincing her the best way he knew how. Also wanting to taste her. Next time, he’d get between her legs, he promised himself. He was dying to eat her out.
    But not this time. This time his need was too urgent, flooding his entire body with heat as he entangled her tongue in his. And the déjà vu was too powerful, making him feel like this was a scene he just had to play out.
    Unable to take it any longer, he pulled himself out of his sweats and—thank fuck—the counter was low. All he had to do was push in…and he was exactly where he wanted to be. Exactly where he knew he belonged.
    Her throaty moan was just the encouragement he needed to start moving inside her. He braced his hands against the counter and went hard, pounding into the heat between her thighs like a man possessed.
    Holy fuck, her pussy fit him like a glove. Squeezing his dick in a hot clasp better than anything he’d ever felt in his life. Tight and hot, it pulled him in with every stroke.
    Soon he couldn’t take it anymore. He had to change up his thrusts, slowly rolling his hips into hers in order to keep from coming too fast. But he only got to savor her this way for a little bit…
    “Sawyer, please,” she whimpered, her face tight with erotic agony. “Please, more, more.”
    Then she wrapped her legs around his waist, her heels digging into his ass, pulling him in deeper. And. Sawyer. Just. Lost. It.
    The appliances at the back of the counter rattled as he started fucking her fast again. Hard and deep, to the rhythm of her sweet whimpers and moans as hot, volatile need flooded his system.
    The déjà vu—though weird—made taking her like this even better. He felt insane, but also like this was absolutely right. Absolutely where he should be. Between this woman’s legs, claiming