Sugar on the Edge (Last Call #3)(39)

And yet, here was a woman that was absolutely gorgeous, sweetly innocent, yet with a backbone of steel who made my cock hard all the time. My attraction to her went through the roof after she shared her “secret” with me, yet at the end of the night, when I took her back home and walked her to the door, I did so with the absolute conviction I was not going to be f*cking her that night.

Before she even had a chance to unlock her door, I bent down and with one hand cupping her face, gave her a very short, very chaste kiss before I said, “Goodnight, Sweet.”

Confusion filled those beautiful eyes, and she said, “I don’t understand.”

“I’m saying goodnight,” I affirmed. “And I’ll see you next Tuesday.”

I turned to leave her, because if I looked at her another moment, I was going to drag her down to the wooden porch and f*ck the hell out of her. And that wouldn’t have been right… not after she just told me about getting attacked and mauled by a man that clearly felt he had the right to take what he wanted.

Just like me half the time. I take without any regard to the consequences I would leave behind. I’ve already done it once with Savannah and, if I did it again, it would almost make me feel like I was no better than that monster Kevin.

“Did I do something wrong?” Savannah had asked before I could make my way off her porch.

Turning back to her, I took her face in my hands. I leaned down and kissed her again. This time not so sweet, not so chaste, and my dick got all excited for what it thought might be coming. But I pulled away, kissed her nose, and said, “No, Sweet… you happen to do everything just right.”

Then I left her standing by her door. I tried to forget her for a while. In the two hours I was working on my manuscript, completely lost in my writing zone, I had indeed pushed her away. But for almost every other minute of my conscious time, she’s been plaguing my mind. I laid in bed last night, thinking of how badly I needed her yesterday… how I wasn’t going to let anything stop me from f*cking her on the top of my kitchen table, and I thought about how hard I had indeed f*cked her and how f*cking mind-blowing the orgasm I had was. Then I jacked off to the memory and was satisfied for a while.

Then that passed, and I was left wanting again.

I text her back. Let’s go for a ride.

She responds immediately. Shouldn’t you be writing?

I need a break. I’ll pick you up in fifteen minutes.

The only thing she wrote back was, Okay.





Savannah opens her door, smiling at me shyly. I stand there a moment… drinking her in. She’s wearing her long, dark hair loose, spilling over her shoulders and down her back. Another pair of tight, faded jeans, a heavy cream, cable-knit sweater, and black riding boots with brown leather trim completes the look of a woman that’s set to go on a lazy car ride with me down the coast.

Which was my original intention. Just to get out for a bit… spend some time with her. See what other surprises she can hit me over the head with. See if maybe I can figure her out, look for cracks or falsehoods. Maybe even expose her for a flash in the pan, and maybe not a woman deserving of what may be growing into an obsession for me.

Instead, I’m overwhelmed with desire for her.

Desire, not lust.

Because they are two different things.

Lust suggests a carnal need to slake oneself until there is no further need.

Desire suggests a craving… something that is pervasive and without end. Something that slowly pulls at you… warms you from the inside out and fogs your senses entirely.

This is what I feel for Savannah at this very moment, as she stands before me all sweetly na?ve as to what I really want. It’s the first time that I want something that I don’t think I deserve in the slightest, and the selfish part of me… the part of me that doesn’t give a f*ck if I end up shredding her in the process, decides to take it.

Stepping into her house, I crowd into her, causing her to step back a few feet so I can I follow her in. I shut the door behind me and bend down, lifting her up and wrapping her legs around my waist. Her arms automatically come up to grip my shoulders, and I take the opportunity when her mouth opens in surprise to kiss her, slipping my tongue inside.

This is the third time I’ve kissed her.

But the brotherly kiss I first gave her last night, and the slightly hotter kiss that I followed up with on the heels of the first one, shouldn’t even count.

No, this is truly our first kiss and I go in deep and possessing, demanding she yield to me.

She does… immediately, her fingers digging into the muscles at my shoulder. Her mouth moves against mine, her tongue battling… tasting oh so sweet, feeling divinely warm. A tiny little moan slithers up from her throat and coats my tongue with her own desire, and I start walking through her living room.

I pull my mouth slightly away, but I leave my lips resting lightly against hers. “Where’s your bedroom, Sweet?”

She leans in and runs her lips up my neck, one hand going up to the back of my head to grip my hair tightly. “Straight back, second door on the left.”

Savannah’s fingers tighten in my hair, and she tugs my head to the side as I walk down her hallway. Her tongue flicks against my earlobe and then she bites it, causing me to groan at her boldness. I may have to change her nickname to Spicy, because she’s not all sweet I’m finding.