CAPTURED: 9 Alpha Bad-Boys(91)

He shifts and I'm so wet and excited his cock slides right in me. This is so wild and daring. I'm hugely turned on.

Carrying me as if I'm weightless, he takes us into one of the stalls. I  have my arms wrapped around his neck, so he closes the door. It's a  tight fit, but thrilling.

Our mouths meet in hungry kisses. He leans me back against the door,  then drives deeply into me. He shifts his body, so the shaft of his cock  caresses my clit with each thrust. It's so good. I'm sobbing with  pleasure into his kisses.

Then the teasing pressure against my clit triggers my orgasm. God. God.  God. I come, rocking on him. Sawyer climaxes too, at the exact same  moment. He staggers, almost collapsing.

He breaks our kiss, leans his forehead against the door, gasping. He supports me on him, amazing me with his strength.

As he kisses me again, I start worrying about him. About his safety. About his future.

I wonder about going to the police myself. But to do so would be a huge betrayal to Sawyer.



Given how scared I am for Sawyer, I shouldn't care when I see Trey walk  up to Sawyer at a frat party. I came with Abby and Shanelle and ‘ran  into' Sawyer here. He still wants to convince Helman I am not his  girlfriend so we have to meet carefully. But we did slip into a bedroom  to kiss, and got interrupted by Trey and a girl-a different girl than  the one he was with at the last party. So much for the look I saw in his  eyes before. Guys like Trey are never really in love, I guess, with  anyone but themselves.         

     



 

I am walking back from the washroom, when I see Trey strike up a conversation with Sawyer.

"Are you actually dating Claire Thomas? Are you crazy, man? Claire is a  geek-fest." Laughing, Trey keeps talking. He tells Sawyer how he just  remembered me, and how I was a big, brainy idiot who got completely  tormented in high school.

I stop in my tracks. My heart hammers. I'm listening to Trey tell Sawyer  how geeky and unpopular I was in high school and my blood is freezing  to ice. Sawyer is definitely going to push me away now.

"Fuck, you are an idiot," Sawyer snaps. "You're insulting my girlfriend  to my face. You have ten seconds to get the fuck out of this house,  before I tear you apart."

Trey looks at him blankly. Then starts laughing. Drunkenly.

Sawyer smashes his fist into the wall, near Trey's head. His hand goes through the plaster, leaving a hole.

"Fuck." Trey spills his beer on himself. He backs away.

"You have five seconds now," Sawyer says.

Trey takes off.

Sawyer sees me. He comes up to me, kisses me with such heat that my  shoes almost sizzle. "Let's go back to my place," he says. He leaves  money with one of the frat guys to repair the damage to the wall.

I pull my hood up to cover my hair. Sawyer knows my deepest, darkest  secret-high school humiliation-and he doesn't care. He isn't judging me  based on the way everyone else treated me.

Sawyer is incredibly wonderful.

I want to do everything I can to help him.





Chapter Six

To keep our relationship quiet and ‘hidden under wraps', I suggest we  spend most of our time in bed. We've stayed under his covers for almost a  whole week. Literally. I've missed three quarters of my classes.

But I don't care. Sawyer is like an addiction. Even after I've had  multiple orgasms, I'm exhausted, and I know I should get out of his bed  and study, he reaches over and plays with my pussy or sucks my nipples  and I'm instantly aroused again.

During our week of sexual decadence, I learn a lot about Sawyer. We both  like mystery novels and math puzzles-along with anal sex, oral sex  and … basically every kind of sex. On Sunday morning we lie in his bed and  do puzzles from the newspaper, while naked and drinking coffee. Sawyer  ties me up with ties and his clean socks to make love to me. He  introduces me to my slightly kinky side. When we talk, we share stories  about our pasts, I try to ease his mind, and he worries about keeping me  safe.

He has to race on a couple of nights. He leaves me in his bed, where I  study-and worry-until he returns. As long as Sawyer does what Helman  tells him to do, it looks like he will stay safe.

But I keep wishing there was a way I could get the men who call  themselves his "sponsors" arrested. If they are responsible for Jaxon's  accident, they have committed murder and they should pay for it. But  Sawyer refuses to go to the cops. Nor will he tell me where he races.

Sometimes, when he's engrossed in studying, I just sit and watch him. He  looks sexy when he's deep in thought, when his black lashes dip over  his violet eyes. I know he used his bike racing winnings to pay for his  mom's cancer treatment, buy this house, and his car and truck and two  motorcycles. He also donated a lot to local charities. He buys thousands  of dollars of presents for toy drives for children. He tries to use the  money he wins by illegal racing to do good.

On Thursday night, he drives me to a concert at one of the local bars. A  lot of indie bands play there, and he's dropping me off so I can meet  Abby and Shanelle.

"Are you really willing to give up racing?" I ask. "You wouldn't have  the same kind of income. I know you do a lot of good things with the  money. Are you sure you don't quit because you know you couldn't help  your mom? And buy the things you can buy?"

This has been bugging me for days. The fear that he tells me he wants to quit, but it's not really true.

He doesn't say anything.

"Sawyer-" I know he's driving, but I need to know the truth. I care  about him. I want to help him. But what's the point if the real truth is  that he doesn't want to give up the money?

"You'd hate me if I said I was staying for the money, Claire. But I need it. You don't know what it is like-"

"I do know! My mom used to work two jobs and I would look after my  brother, so we could afford to pay for his drugs. I do know what it's  like. I think you would be willing to sacrifice yourself to help your  mother-"

"Shouldn't I be willing to do that?" he asks sharply, interrupting me.

"I don't think she would want you to."

"You're right, she doesn't. Mom won't speak to me anymore because of the  bike racing. But she does cash my checks, because she doesn't want to  die either, and because she needs money for herself and my sisters. She  may hate what I'm doing and she may have told me not to come home unless  I change my fucking life, but she needs me to be making tens of  thousands of dollars on a race."

"Your mother won't speak to you?"

"That's her solution to me putting myself in danger. She can't deal with  it, so she told me not to come home. But like I say, she cashes the  checks." He turns to me. "If I don't stop racing, are you going to say  you don't want to see me again?"

"No. I want to see you." I don't want to lose you.

"It's true that I'm fucking trapped. But I did it for money. I'm still  doing it for money. Yeah, I wanted a career. I wanted to be an engineer.  But I need to make a lot of money. Fast."

"What if they kill you?"

"Then I died trying to help my family." He shrugs. "I'm not good with guilt."

"I can't believe it. You feel so responsible for your family you'd rather die than let them down? This is wrong."

"It's who I am. Apparently, the more you get to know me, the less you like me."

"That's not true!" I soften my tone. "You sound so angry."

"Maybe I am angry. Maybe I was happy with my life before you came  along." His eyes are focused on the road, his mouth hard and tight.  "You've made me doubt everything. I figured I'd found something I was  good at, something that solved all my problems. Yeah, it's risky, but  that's why I make money. You make me want to get out of it; you make me  want to escape. If I didn't have you, I'd be happy."

I swallow hard. "Okay, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I made you unhappy." I think I'm being wrongfully blamed and it hurts deeply.

Sawyer turns so fast, he jerks the wheel. We veer toward a light  standard. He quickly straightens the car. "I didn't mean it like that."

"You did. You're angry at me. You wanted to push me away. And you're  doing a really good job." I start to wonder-maybe it's more than his  dangerous bike racing lifestyle that has led him to have only one night  stands. Maybe, in his heart, he doesn't want more of a relationship. He  wants to drive me away.

"I just don't know what the truth is," I say. "Are you really angry? Are  you really pushing me away to protect me? We've been together for a  couple of weeks. Maybe this is starting to feel too serious to you."

He takes one hand off the wheel and rubs his gorgeous, stubble-covered  jaw. "When you dated before, how did it last for you?" he asks.

"Uh," I say. Actually, never. I guess I should be honest. "I've never  really had a relationship before," I admit. I expect he is going to be  shocked.

But he says, "Then I'm sorry for what I just said. I was a jerk. I don't want to push you away."

"What about you?" I ask softly. "Have you ever had a long term commitment?"