“Yeah. Thanks.” He gave her fingers a grateful squeeze before turning to look toward the center of the room. The moment he saw the view through the hole in the floor, the bottom of his stomach dropped out. “What the hell…”
Where the foundation should have been, there was only dark brown rock surrounding a crevice that plunged straight down for at least twenty feet before the light grew too dim to see any farther.
“I don’t know,” Mia said, still clinging to his hand. “I’ve heard stories about caves near the butte where people would hide their liquor during Prohibition, but there was never any mention of the caves being underneath the jail. This area was already practically a ghost town at that point. Almost everyone moved up to the newer part of town when the highway went through.”
Sawyer took a step forward, leaning in to peer into the inky black at the center of the chasm.
“Don’t.” Mia squeezed his palm so hard his finger bones rubbed together. “I thought I was going to be sick when I saw you hanging over the middle of that thing. You could have broken both legs.”
“Or worse,” Sawyer said, glancing down at her. “Good thing you’re strong when you’re scared.”
Her breath rushed out, harsh and uneven. “Guess so.”
“Would it be nosy to ask why a woman who runs a lingerie store has experience with adrenaline fueled rescue situations?”
Her tongue slipped out to dampen her lips, drawing Sawyer’s attention to her plush mouth. “Would it be cowardly to say I’d rather not talk about it?”
He shook his head. “I think you’ve proved you’re not a coward.”
“I don’t know about that,” she said, chin lifting as he stepped closer. “If I wasn’t a coward, I would have said yes to dinner.”
“You have nothing to be afraid of from me.” He lifted his free hand, letting his fingers slide around the back of her neck to thread through her soft curls. “I told you, I’m harmless.”
Mia bit her lip, the look in her eyes so haunted, Sawyer felt compelled to add—
“And I know what it’s like to live through things you’d rather not talk about. Sometimes it’s best to leave the bad things in the past, where they can’t bite you in the ass when you’re least expecting it.”
“But I haven’t left the bad things in the past,” she said, softly. “That’s the problem. The bad things have their teeth sunk in too deep.”
“Might be something that could be handled with a sterling silver amputation set,” Sawyer said, hoping to lighten the moment, feeling ridiculously proud of himself when Mia smiled in response. “We could borrow it from the museum.”
“Yeah?” She lifted one brow. “Would you perform the procedure yourself?”
He winked. “If it gets me closer to your ass.”
She chuckled again, but her smile faded as she took a step closer and looked up at him, bringing her lips to hover temptingly beneath his own. “What are you looking for, Sawyer?”
“A good time, a few laughs,” he said, honestly. “A friend who likes the way I kiss.”
“I think I like the way you kiss.” Mia’s arms went around his neck. “But I was a little tipsy the other night. I might need something to refresh my memory.”
“That can be arranged,” Sawyer said, heartbeat stuttering as she leaned into him and her full breasts pressed against his chest.
She stood up on tiptoe, and Sawyer met her halfway, claiming her mouth with a soft moan of pleasure. Her lips parted and his tongue swept inside, stroking against hers, advancing and retreating, teasing through every sweet inch of her mouth as his hands drifted down her back, urging her closer. She tasted even better than she had the other night, like smoky tea and honey and something dark and mysterious that was Mia’s taste.
Kissing her felt like being trusted with a secret, a clue to who this woman truly was. Mia, beneath the sharp wit and the easy smile. Mia, behind the easy going small town girl image, down deep at the heart of her where there lived a woman who was brave enough to admit that she was afraid, and who had risked her life to help a near stranger without a second thought.
Sawyer couldn’t put a name to that taste, he only knew that it tasted real, beautiful. He never wanted to stop kissing Mia Sherman. He wanted to get closer, kiss deeper, let his hands whisper over every inch of her bare skin, making promises until she trusted him to keep them. He wanted to be there when she dropped her walls, and unleashed all the longing Sawyer could feel lingering below the surface, straining to be free.
“God, Mia,” he mumbled into her mouth, groaning when she made a sexy little sound in the back of her throat and shifted her hips, pressing against where his erection strained the fabric of his jeans.
Sawyer dropped his hands to her hips before sliding his palms around to cup her ass, urging her closer, rocking her against his aching length until she gasped and her head tilted back, giving him access to the column of her throat. He trailed kisses across her soft, fevered skin as he pushed her back against the doorframe, shifting their position until his leg slid between her thighs and his hands could smooth beneath the tight fabric of her tank top.
He let his palms play across her stomach and around to her back as he circled his hips, nudging his thigh muscle against her core, knowing he was hitting the sweet spot when Mia’s breath grew shallow and a flush spread across her pale cheeks.
“You’re beautiful,” he murmured as he slid the strap of her tank top off her shoulder, kissing his way across her clavicle as he tugged at the cotton fabric, baring her left breast.
Sawyer glanced down, a fresh wave of desire rushing down to fist between his legs at the sight of her peach-colored nipple, already drawn into a tight bud that practically begged for his attention. But before he could drop his head and pull her puckered flesh into his mouth, Mia squirmed out of his arms and lunged toward the road.