Sugar on the Edge (Last Call #3)(23)

Moving my hand away from her leg, I shake my head and chastise her. “Not good enough, Sweet. You need to demand of it of me.”

Savannah gives a tiny cry of frustration, and I can see the warring within her eyes. I’ve taken her so far out of her comfort zone that her natural inclination is going to be withdrawal, but her body is reactive to me and it’s battling with her common sense.

“I know what you want,” I tell her softly. “You know what you want. But prove to me you have it in you to demand it.”

Blowing out a breath, she says, “I want you to…”

“Tell me,” I urge her on.

“Touch me,” she says softly.

“Where?”

Her eyes squeeze close, her brow furrowing inward. When she opens them again, she gives another frustrated sigh. “Between my legs.”

“Uh-uh,” I chide her. “Dirtier. Make it dirty for me.”

Savannah opens her mouth… she’s on the verge of telling me what I want to hear, and my cock swells in anticipation. She’s going to push past her barriers and restraints, show me her dark side, and then it will be okay if I f*ck her.

I can finally f*ck her.

“I can’t,” she exclaims and surges off the couch. I rear backward, surprised by her move as she tries to push past me.

My arm snakes out and grabs her around the waist, pulling her back down onto my lap, right onto my aching erection.

“No,” she cries out, struggling against me.

“Shh,” I whisper against her ear, but I don’t tighten my hold on her. She’s upset, and I don’t want to frighten her. Fuck… I want to console her for some insane reason, which is not a part of my DNA.

“Shh,” I whisper again as I gently rub her back in broad strokes to calm her down. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re an *,” she practically whimpers with her face pressed into my shoulder.

Sighing, I push her back from me so I can look her in the face. “Yes, I am. I shouldn’t have pushed that way. I thought you could take it.”

“I’m not some sort of sick game for you to play with,” she says, her voice sounding stronger.

“I know,” I agree with her, because it was the sickest of games. But f*ck… she wanted me. For a moment, she was all in, and had I just accepted it when she said she wanted me to touch her between her legs, my fingers would be buried deep within her right now. But I let my own darkness and need for control dictate to me the way it would be played out. So I could make the terms and force her to abide by them.

Pushing Savannah off my lap, I wait until she’s standing steady and say, “You should go.”

She walks on shaky legs into the kitchen, and I stand from the couch to face her while she gathers her purse and keys. Dragging my fingers through my hair, I sigh in frustration.

Sexual frustration, but also mental frustration. What the f*ck was I just doing?

When Savannah reaches the door, she hesitates and then says without turning to look back at me, “I don’t understand what just happened.”

“Fuck if I know,” I mutter.

Savannah then turns to look at me, cocking her head to the side. “I’m curious, Gavin. Did you want me too, or was that just a way to try to break me out of the mold you wanted to put me in?”

Her words floor me and shame me all at once. In five long strides, I’m standing before her, cupping her by the back of her head with my hand. Leaning down close, I tell her, “I f*cking wanted you. Don’t doubt that. But you’re right… I wanted to break you first.”

“Why?” she whispers, her eyes cautious.

“Because I’m dark that way. I’m way too bitter for your brand of sweet.”

“I find that to be sad,” she consoles me.

“Very,” I agree with her as I release my hold and turn away from her. “I’ll see you next week.”

I hear Savannah open the door as I start to walk back into the kitchen.

“Gavin?” she asks hesitantly.

“What’s up?” I ask, struggling for seeming nonchalance as I turn to look at her.

“Want to take a break from your writing? Do something to get you out of this house tomorrow? It might do you good.”

“Excuse me?” I’m bewildered by this absolute change of subject.

“I um… well, I volunteer at this no-kill animal shelter called The Haven. Want to come help me?”

I stare at her like she’s a phenom from another planet. Her face is earnest, her intentions pure. She’s saddened by my darkness and wants to pull me out of it.

Oh, Sweet… not going to happen.

“No, thanks,” I tell her. “Not my sort of thing.”

“Oh… okay. Well, if you change your mind, just call me.”

“I won’t,” I assure her. “But thanks for the offer.”

“Sure,” she says with a smile. “See you next week.”





Oh my God! I think I may be absolutely and completely obsessed with Gavin Cooke. I hate myself for it? but it’s completely true. I feel like a completely different person when I’m around him.

When he’s taunting me.

Goading me.

Seducing me.