Sugar on the Edge (Last Call #3)(68)

“Why the doubt, Sweet?”

“It’s just… stuff like this doesn’t happen in real life, and it certainly doesn’t happen to me. You’re larger than life, and I feel dwarfed. You’re dark and mysterious. Sexy and charismatic. Your touch leaves me breathless, and your words hypnotize me. I feel both lost and found with you, yet many times, I feel in between those two places, which is way worse that just being lost.”

I tilt my head to her and give her an understanding smile. Pulling on her hand, I say, “Come here, baby. Sit with me and let me tell you all about it.”

She stands up and lets me pull her on top of my lap, arranging her legs in a good straddle. I love being this close to her, face to face, * to cock.

“You’ll get a boner in this position,” she says confidently, slyly. “You always do.”

“I don’t give a f*ck.” I smirk at her. “I like you this way.”

“But everyone will see,” she says as her eyes glance around the crowded beach.

“Again, don’t give a f*ck. They might see but you are the only one feeling it.”

She sucks her lower lip in between her teeth for a moment, considering my words. She lowers her hips down and makes contact with the hard-on that is indeed starting to tent my swim trunks.

“Mmmm, feels good,” I tell her but then still her progress with my hands on her hips. “Now, what were we talking about?”

“We were talking about the fact that I’m not good enough for someone like you… not really.”

Leaning forward, I place a soft kiss on Savannah’s breastbone. Her skin is hot and there’s a tang of salt on my lips when I pull back. Looking up at her, I talk to her with utter transparency. “Savannah… Sweet… you have it all backward. I’m the one that’s not good enough for you. Your light shines so brightly that I’m merely thankful to be standing near enough to let one of the rays touch me. You say you feel dwarfed by me? Well, I feel utterly overwhelmed by you. My skin hums whenever you’re near, and my heart threatens to leap out of my chest like an excited puppy. I’ve never felt that something was so right… so meant to be. It doesn’t have any reason to it, but then again, feelings and emotions aren’t meant to. All I know is that my gut, my heart, my brain… the cock that’s pushing up against you, they’re all telling me that you’re the one. So, no more doubts. Okay, baby? We’re good for each other, and that’s all we need to worry about right now.”





“Are you sure you want to do this?” I ask Gavin, which yes… I know it’s for the third time.

“I’m sure,” he says as he pulls several bottles of wine out of the rack and sets them on the kitchen counter.

“I’d understand if you weren’t sure,” I prod at him.

“I’m sure you would understand.”

“I mean… we can cancel, if you want.”

“We can’t cancel,” he says and yes, that’s a smirk on his gorgeous face.

“But if you want—”

Gavin turns on me fast and pulls me to him. He kisses me hard, swiftly, with power and control. “Shut up, Sweet. They’ll be here in ten minutes, and you’re wound up tighter than your own *. What’s up?”

I hardly even blush anymore because his dirty talk is getting easier to digest. “It’s just… I’m nervous about everyone coming over.”

“Why?” he asks as he kisses my forehead. “I’ve been around all your friends before. I think they like me, right?”

“Seemed to,” I grudgingly admit.

“Then what’s the problem? You wanted to invite them over for a get-together, and I told you I thought it was a fantastic idea. This will be fun.”

Sighing, I give him a squeeze and then pull out of his embrace. Turning to the refrigerator, I start pulling out all the finger foods I made. A veggie tray, sliced cheeses, grapes, and deli meats. A pot of spicy meatballs simmers in a crock-pot on the counter, and another holds a warm, buffalo chicken dip. “You’re right. It’s just… things have moved kind of fast for us, and I don’t want them to judge me.”

I expect further words of comfort and encouragement from Gavin, but he merely says, “Fuck ’em if they judge us. You don’t need them.”

Lifting my gaze to his, I see anger and protectiveness. “That’s kind of harsh,” I murmur. “And I do need them… they’re my friends.”

Gavin grabs the Macallan from the various bottles of liquors and mixers he brought up from the bar downstairs. Pouring himself a glass, he takes a sip and says, “The way I see it… maybe you’re nervous because you doubt what we have is real. You said it’s too fast—I said it’s not fast enough. Maybe we’re not on the same page like I thought.”

I blink at him in surprise, taken aback by the resentment in his words. “What? No, I don’t feel that.”

“If your heart is true, and all the things you told me in St. Lucia were true, you wouldn’t worry about what others think. You’d accept what it is and revel in it.”

Pushing away from the counter, I walk to Gavin and step in to him. Wrapping my arms around his waist, I place my cheek to his heart and hear it galloping away. He doesn’t respond for a moment, then finally sits his glass down and places his arms around me, leaning his cheek to the top of my head.