BWWM Interracial Romance 6: Her Protector (8 page)

Adriana’s pleasure mounted every moment, the friction between her body and Sawyer’s driving her closer and closer to orgasm as her heart pounded in her chest. She was moaning, murmuring his name in praise, struggling to get more and more contact, to feel him deeper and deeper inside of her. She was almost surprised when the first wave of pleasure washed through her, driving out all thought, sending tingling hot and cold flashes of sensation dancing up and down every nerve in her body as she continued to move.

She fell against him, only dimly aware of the pain still lingering in her body, as the last of the spasms of pleasure shuddered through her. She was exhausted—but so content that she could barely imagine moving, even to get her pain pills. The pleasure hormones zinging in her blood were more potent than any synthetic, she thought in the part of her brain still capable of consciousness. Sawyer’s arms coiled around her carefully and she fell into a doze.

Sawyer stood at one of the anonymous desks in the “bull pen” of the police department, waiting for the desk’s occupant. He was off duty—as was the person he was waiting for—but he wasn’t ready to go home just yet. Adriana would be working into the night, he knew; he’d wait for her to call him to confirm whether or not she was coming over.

Ever since they had come back together, he and Adriana had been growing closer and closer—their relationship stronger than it had been before the breach that had separated them for a few weeks. Adriana was recovering from her injuries exactly as she should be, and Sawyer had told her firmly that if she needed physical therapy, he was happy to chip in. When she bristled, trying to reject the idea of his ‘charity,’ he had told her firmly—but with a joking smile—that he considered it a matter of his own pleasure; if she regained all of her mobility, they would be able to try more and more athletic forms of sex together.

Sawyer looked up in time to see the arrival of the man he was waiting for. Kent checked at the sight of Sawyer waiting at his desk, hesitating before he continued his approach. “You need something, Barton?” Kent’s gaze was wary, still guilty even after all the time that separated them both from the altercation that had followed his admission that he was sleeping with Sawyer’s wife.

“We need to have a talk,” Sawyer said. He had come to the conclusion a few weeks before that he wouldn’t be able to fully move forward in his relationship with Adriana if he didn’t discard the last bits of personal baggage he was clinging to. Yes, Kent had done him wrong; yes, his ex-wife had betrayed him. It had hurt so much because he had cared about Lisa, because he had been best friends with Kent in addition to being partners. But if he wanted to have a truly healthy relationship with Adriana, he couldn’t keep carting around the feelings of hurt and betrayal that he had been nurturing deep down in his own mind.

“You want to talk right here?” Sawyer shook his head.

“Let’s head to The Works.” Kent hesitated only a moment before nodding his agreement.

“I’ll meet you there in fifteen.” Sawyer almost invited Kent to ride with him—it didn’t entirely make sense to take two cars, and he was more than a little bit apprehensive that Kent wouldn’t show if he was given the option—but he decided that if Kent didn’t follow through, it wasn’t his fault.

They sat down at an isolated table outside with cups of coffee and a sandwich each and for a few moments they ate in awkward silence. Sawyer knew that Kent was worried for his own well-being, that Kent was full of questions about what this meeting represented. “Look,” Sawyer said, running his fingers up and down along the length of the paper cup his coffee had come in, “We both know what happened. It’s not worth rehashing.”

“I agree,” Kent said warily. “I was wondering what you asked me here for.” Sawyer took a deep breath. It was difficult for him to say what he knew he needed to say; his hurt, betrayed feelings demanded that he nurture them.

“I can’t hold onto my grudge anymore—it’s not helping me live my life, it’s making it harder on both of us, it’s pointless.” Sawyer paused for a moment before continuing. “You were my best friend, man. What you did to me—I won’t ever be able to forget it. But in a way you kind of did me a favor.”

“Adriana?” Kent smiled slightly. Sawyer nodded.

“I’m happier with her than I’ve ever been with Lisa—so overall, it’s just as well that something ended that marriage—even if it had to be you cheating with her.”

“I gotta say, man… I never really apologized for it. I did the worst thing a guy can do to a friend. I’m really, truly sorry.”

“Yeah,” Sawyer picked at the remnants of his sandwich. “I’m not saying we’re going to be best friends anymore—that can’t ever happen again, not after…but we can at least not hate each other.”

“I think that’s a straight deal.” They fell into silence for a long time; Sawyer couldn’t think of anything else to say. They finished their coffee and managed a few stale remarks about the local little league teams before parting—not as friends, but at least as neutral acquaintances.

Sawyer felt as though a load had been lifted from his shoulders. Months before, he would never have thought that forgiving Kent for his part in destroying a marriage that Sawyer had been so comfortable in, ruining his prospects of a family, would make him feel better. But as he went back to his cruiser, Sawyer found himself whistling, jingling his keys in his hand. He would send Lisa a letter—there was no need to contact her more directly than that, even if she lived in the same town as he did still.

As he was making his way home to wait for Adriana’s call, he was surprised when his phone rang, the screen on his console confirming that it was her. “Hey, baby,” he said, hitting the button to answer it via the Bluetooth. “You’re early!” He heard a sniffle, a gasping breath, a sob.

“W-w-we have t-t-to c-close,” Adriana said, her voice just below a shriek. “By the end of the w-w-week.” Sawyer’s stomach fell, and he pulled over, throwing his car into park.

“Oh, baby, I’m so sorry,” he said, switching over to the phone itself. “What happened?”

“We couldn’t make the loan work,” she said, her breath hitching as she sobbed. “After everything I did. All the work. All the hours cut.” She let out a wail and Sawyer hoped that at least she was in the office at the restaurant, or in her car, or at home—somewhere she wouldn’t have to deal with the well-intentioned pity of her own employees, now soon to be turned out onto the street to find new jobs. “S-s-Sawyer, I tried so hard to make it work,” she began to sob in earnest, her words garbled. “I’m letting him down. I’ve failed him.” Sawyer wished with every inch of his being that he could be wherever Adriana was right then, to fold her into his arms and hold her tightly while she shook with sobs.

“Listen, baby,” he said softly but firmly, knowing exactly the emotional state she was in. “Where are you at?”

“I’m at the restaurant,” she said faintly, continuing to gulp and sniff. “In the office. Mom’s—mom already went home.”

“I’m going to go over there and pick you up, and we’re going to buy you a big bottle of wine and you’re going to take a nice long bath and have a good meal, and we’re going to make love until tomorrow morning.”

A few days later, Sawyer parked in the surprisingly busy lot outside of Ellis American Cuisine. It was the last night that the restaurant would be open, and it seemed as though everyone who had ever known the Ellis family in any respect had managed to turn out for the last night. It was heartwarming to Sawyer, and he knew it would be for Adriana too; she had come to accept the fact that she simply couldn’t hold onto the restaurant any longer, that it wasn’t in her blood the way it had been in her father’s, and she was halfway to accepting that it wasn’t her fault that it had failed—that she had done everything she could to make it a success, but that luck had simply been against her.

As he worked his way to the front of the line, several people giving way to him not just as a police officer but also as Adriana’s acknowledged boyfriend, he caught sight of the woman he loved moving around the dining room, dry-eyed and smiling. If the smile was a little sad, it suited the occasion, and Sawyer thought that she was very brave to go out the way she was.

Banners on the wall proclaimed that everything in the restaurant was for sale, that all of the food had to be eaten that night—they were turning over the keys and the deed to the property to the banks the next day, along with the loan money. Scattered around the tables, pieces of memorabilia from the walls had already been claimed; Sawyer saw the servers laughing, a few of them shedding nostalgic tears, but no one lost to sadness in the oddly festive occasion of the restaurant’s last day of business. Adriana spotted him and came over, giving him a quick kiss. “We’re a bit packed at the moment,” she said loudly enough for the people waiting their turn at a table to hear. Everyone laughed. “But I think I can seat you at the bar, Officer, if that’s okay?”

“More than okay,” he said. He spotted some of his friends from the department in line and at tables, and waved all around. Adriana led him to the last open seat at the bar and put a menu—hastily assembled, comprised of everything that the chefs could possibly make that night from the supplies at hand—in his hands. On the bar itself there was another menu, exhorting the patrons to drink responsibly but thoroughly—the alcohol needed to be sold out too.

Sawyer planned on driving Adriana home at the end of the night, so he kept himself to two drinks—a top-shelf bloody Mary and a rumrunner, sipping through his enormous dinner of steak and lobster with all of the traditional trimmings. People came and went, buying enormous meals at a deal, tipping as generously as their wallets would allow, doing what they could to provide the staff and management of the company with at least a little cushion against the tragedy that had befallen them. It might be several weeks before the staff managed to find new jobs; no one wanted them to starve in the meantime. Adriana, still limping slightly from the injury to her knee but otherwise in good shape, moved about the dining room constantly, as did her mother. A guest book circulated, and Sawyer added his scrawl to one of the pages, adding a note for Adriana and Esther.

By the time the night was coming to a close, Sawyer felt exhausted, emotionally drained, and wondered how Adriana could possibly continue saying her goodbyes as the owner of the restaurant, talking to people, keeping the smile on her face. He thought that he had never loved or admired her as much as he did that night—seeing her so brave, so positive even in the face of her own defeat. He stayed as she counted and divvied up the tips she had earned that night, making sure that everyone had her contact information so that she could provide references as they needed.

Finally, there was only himself, Adriana, and Esther in the building; everyone else had gone. Adriana went behind the bar and claimed a bottle of champagne from the picked-over selections, and Esther took a couple of bottles of rum. “We’ll have to come back tomorrow,” Ester reminded her daughter, “So don’t stay up all night.” Esther gave Sawyer a knowing glance.

Sawyer let Adriana out of his cruiser, helping her stand up. “I can’t wait until my stupid knee is better,” she said with a sigh. Her ribs had all but healed, and she no longer had to wear the splint on her arm—except when she was doing something strenuous—but the torn ligaments in her knee and ankle were a long-term project for healing. “Did I tell you?” she asked as he closed the car door behind her, lending her his arm to lean on while they walked to his front door. “Desiree offered me a job.”

“That’s great, baby,” Sawyer said. “I think you’ll be happier there.” Adriana smiled broadly, slipping into his arms and pressing her body to his.

“I’m happier right here,” she said, shifting up onto the balls of her feet to kiss him lightly on the lips.

Sawyer lifted Adriana into his arms, carrying her into the bedroom as he continued the kiss. He felt a steady, low thrumming of desire racing through his veins, pooling deep down in his hips to make him quickly hard. “You were so brave tonight,” he murmured, gently dropping her onto his bed. He picked up her feet and took off her shoes, tossing them across the room without looking to see where they had landed.

“No real choice,” Adriana said with a wry smile. “I couldn’t let Dad’s place go down with me weeping.” Sawyer rubbed the soles of her feet with his fingers firmly, feeling a thrill at the contrast of his pale skin against her dark tones. He loved the way that her palms and the bottoms of her feet were several shades lighter and faintly pink compared to the umber of the rest of her skin. He loved the way her skin felt like velvet under his fingers. Adriana let out a moan of appreciation, falling onto her back, and Sawyer continued his massage for a long moment, focusing on her arches and the balls of her feet, knowing that was where she ached the most.

Once he knew she was relaxed enough, he lifted her up slightly, finding the zipper of her dress at the back and tugging it down. Adriana perked up, her eyes opening and a smile forming on her face that was more lustful than dreamy. Her hands—less clumsy now that she didn’t have a splint hampering her—danced over his body, opening his uniform shirt, slipping underneath his clothes to trail heat along his abdomen and chest. He slipped Adriana’s dress off of her quickly, stripping her down to her underwear in a few moments and feasting his eyes on her. Adriana was easily, without question, the most beautiful woman he had ever seen naked; her full, heavy breasts, capped with dark nipples, her lush hips and thick thighs that wrapped around him so tightly when they made love, everything about her delighted him.

Sawyer unhooked the clasp at the back of Adriana’s bra, guiding the pink fabric away from her body, casting it aside only to cup her breasts in his hands. He brought them up to meet his lips, reveling in the sight of his pale skin dappling her dark skin, like a reverse shadow flitting across the landscape of her body. He brought first one nipple and then the other to his mouth, claiming it with his lips and tongue and careful grazes of his teeth, thrilling at the sound of her throaty, deep moans as she became more and more turned on. He lingered at her breasts for a long time, worshipping her body, caressing her everywhere he could reach with his hands. Sawyer brought his mouth back up to Adriana’s, reaching down to tug her panties down over her hips, to remove the last barrier between their bodies.

He pushed her down gently onto his bed, spreading her legs wider as he kissed a path along her body. Sawyer had discovered well before he had connected with Adriana that he loved to go down on a woman—but he loved it even more with Adriana, who was utterly uninhibited in her reactions, who got so deliciously wet for him as she got aroused. He stopped short of his objective, nuzzling her hips, kissing and nibbling at her lower abdomen, breathing in the heady, faint musk of her arousal. He buried his face between her thighs, spreading her open as his mouth connected with her.