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A tingling sensation spreads out from the back of my neck and my thighs involuntarily clench together, as I turn my eyes back to the road.
Gavin’s left arm raises up and his fingers skim along the back of my neck, pushing upward over the base of my skull and sifting through my hair. “Have you thought about the other night?” he murmurs.
My hands grip the steering wheel harder and my foot eases up off the accelerator a tiny bit, but words are stuck in my throat. I’m afraid to say anything.
“I have,” he admits softly as he shifts in the seat and leans closer to me. “I’ve thought about it a lot. About what I could have done differently. ”
“Gavin—” I croak, but he cuts me off.
Bringing his right hand across, he places it on my knee and starts sliding it up my thigh. My pulse skyrockets and my foot actually falls off the gas pedal, as it’s almost impossible for me to concentrate on driving while he’s touching me.
“Speed back up, Sweet,” he whispers as he leans closer and sticks his nose under my ear. “Don’t want a cop to pull you over for going too slow. ”
“I can’t—”
“You can,” he insists quietly, and his hand travels higher. I blink hard and push the gas pedal, getting my speed back up to within a normal range.
My legs fall open a bit to give him easier access and within just a moment, his fingers sit at my hipbone. His index finger strokes back and forth over my brown tights, but I can feel the burn of his touch all the way through to my soul.
“Let’s do this a little differently,” Gavin says with his finger moving softly against the inside of my thigh. “I really want to touch you and all I want from you is to say ‘yes’. ”
“Oh, God,” I gasp out as his finger drifts over to press up against my center.
“Say ‘yes,’” he urges, his lips now against my ear, and I’m helpless.
“Yes,” I moan.
Gavin sits up suddenly and pushes my skirt all the way up so it bunches around my hips. “Lift yourself up a bit,” he growls.
I do as he commands, my foot pushing down on the accelerator inadvertently, causing the car to jump forward.
“Easy,” he chuckles, and I let up off the gas a bit.
Taking both of his hands, he pinches at my tights with his fingertips and with a grunt, jerks at the material, causing it to rip right at the inside of my thigh where it meets my hip.
“Fuck yeah,” he groans, and I glance down to see him pulling one edge of the tights away from my skin with his left hand while his right hand tunnels in.
“White lace panties,” he murmurs as his finger slips under the edge. “And they’re damp. My favorite kind. ”
I can’t help the half sob, half moan that comes out of my mouth, and he tries to comfort me by leaning forward and kissing me on my lower jaw. “Easy, Sweet. We’re just getting started. ”
That’s what scares me. I can barely control the raging of my blood and nonsensical sounds that want to pour forth from my mouth. I’m for sure going to wreck this car.
Softly inching his finger closer, he makes contact with my center and swipes his finger up and down. The move parts my swollen lips, and I can feel the slickness of my response coating his path. My h*ps flex up, trying to push his finger closer, and he doesn’t wait.
His finger sinks deep inside of me. I groan hard from within my chest, and tears prick at my eyes because this is the most erotic thing that’s ever happened to me in my life. Gavin pulls his finger back, slightly constrained by the material of my panties and tights, and pushes back in a bit rougher.
When he pulls back out again, he moves the tip of his finger and starts circling my clit. His breathing becomes harsher, his lips pressed against my neck, and his breath fanning out gives me additional shivers. He moves faster against me, because we don’t have time to drag this out, and I find I wouldn’t want it any other way.
I’m driving an Italian sports car on a lonely highway with an insanely gorgeous and carnally sinful man with his hand between my legs. There’s no other way for this to go but hard and fast.
“Need you to come for me, Sweet. ” Gavin’s words pour out rough across my skin and my foot presses down hard on the accelerator. The needle on the speedometer climbs higher, and the engine cries out for me to give it even more reign.
Gavin’s finger circles, rubs, and presses against me, and I can feel the wetness of my desire slicked all around.
“I’m going to—”
“Fuck yes, you are,” Gavin growls.
“I’m—”
“Come on, Sweet… give it to me,” he urges and stops his rubbing to jam two of his fingers inside of me, hitting me deep and just at the right spot.
“Give it to me, Savannah,” he pants again.
He pulls his fingers out to press down hard on my clit.
“Fucking. Give. It. To. Me,” he practically snarls.
And I do.
Bursting apart from the inside out with a long moan, I give it all to him.
13
I can hear Savannah moving around downstairs as she cleans, and I’m bound and determined to ignore her. Kind of like the way she ignored me on the ride home yesterday after I made her orgasm all over my hand. I had pulled my hand from between her legs and stuck my index finger in my mouth, licking her off me.
“Delicious,” I said, and she groaned again while her breath came out in sharp, little pants. I wanted to demand she pull the car over to the side of the road, pull her across my lap, and slam her down on my cock. I badly wanted her to ride me there, on the side of Highway 264 in the bright light of day, while other cars whizzed by, but I could tell by the shyness in her eyes and the way she refused to meet my gaze that it wasn’t going to happen.
So I suffered the ride in silence, ultimately pulling out my laptop and fleshing out a new scene between Honey and Max. One where they were in a car together and after the finger f**king was over, she did, in fact, ride his c**k hard on the side of the road. The unfortunate by product to writing that scene with the smell of Savannah still wafting up from my fingers as they moved across the keyboard was that I had a raging hard-on the entire time.
Yes, I want to ignore her, the way she ignored me after, but the monster in my pants perked up eager the minute I heard her walk in. Reaching down, I palm my dick through the rough material of my jeans and squeeze it. I close my eyes and groan as I imagine it’s Savannah’s hand on me.
Just that thought… just the thought of her small hand stroking my c**k raises so much lust within me; I stand up abruptly from my desk and mutter a curse. Never… in all those months I visited sex clubs and f**ked my way through London have I ever been this worked up over a woman.
And a woman that shouldn’t even hold any appeal to me. She represents everything that’s the antithesis to my darkness. She represents the possibility of moving myself out of that darkness, and allowing a little bit of bright back into my life.
That thought makes me shudder, not in a very good way, and my erection wanes.
That’s better.
I head out of my office and down the stairs, determined to be able to confront her. To prove to myself that I can be around her and still be me.
I find her in the living room, dusting the furniture. She’s wearing a pair of faded, but well-fitting jeans and a long-sleeved T-shirt. Her dark hair is pulled up into a high ponytail, and she’s humming to herself while she works.
It makes me want to drag her down to the couch, strip her, and f**k her with my mouth.
Spinning away, I walk into the kitchen, my hands balled into fists and my c**k hard again.
Opening the refrigerator, I stare blindly at the contents, not really wanting anything but not sure what to do at this point. My well-laid plans to confront Savannah having been blown all to hell.
“Hungry?” she asks behind me, and my c**k leaps.
; She has no idea just how hungry I am.
Closing the refrigerator door, I turn to stare at her. She looks uncomfortable, as well she should be. I fingered her in the car yesterday, and we barely said two words to each other after. I want to do it to her again, and so much more. Normally, the Gavin Cooke I’ve become would just move in and take what he wanted.
But as she stands there, uncertainty in her eyes, I can’t bring myself to make a move.
I’ve become the anti-hero now.
Max would be disgusted by me.
“No,” I finally say to her. “Not hungry. ”
Not for food, anyway.
“Okay,” she says, and I think I see a small level of disappointment in her eyes. She starts to move past me, on her way to the laundry room, I suppose, and I catch a whiff of her perfume. It’s sweet… flowery… innocent. Just like her.
Before I can stop myself, my hand jets out and grabs her by the wrist. “Go to dinner with me tonight?”
She jerks in surprise, and her eyes widen. “Dinner?”
“Yes. It’s this concept where two people sit down at a table and other people serve them food. ”
The corners of her mouth tilt skyward, but she asks again, “You want to take me to dinner?”
No, Sweet… I want to ravage you, strip you bare, burrow into you, and pound this compulsion out of me.
“Yes… I want to take you out to dinner. ” Which is so f**king weird, because I don’t wine and dine women. Never needed to before.
“Why?” she asks skeptically.
“Why not? I find I like your company, I don’t know anyone else here, and I’m bored sitting around by myself all the time. ”
“Oh,” she says softly as she casts her eyes downward, and I’m surprised by her lack of enthusiasm over my invitation.
Lifting her head up by putting my fingers under her chin, I peer down to look at her. “What’s with the uncertainty?”
She shakes her head as if denying me. “It’s nothing. I mean… I just didn’t think you were the type… never mind. ”
“What? That I wasn’t the type to take a woman on a date?” I tell her in a chastising tone.
Her eyes harden a tiny bit, and she smirks at me. “No, you seem like the type to pick a woman up in a bar and then leave with her so you can bang the hell out of her. ”
My hand falls from her face as dismay fills me. She clearly heard about the blonde woman I left the bar with the other night. No sense in hiding it though, so I tell it to her straight. “I’m not a saint, Savannah. I like to f**k. I like to give in to those base urges. So what?”
“Exactly,” she says as she brushes past me. “So what?”
“Wait a minute,” I say as I turn and grab her again. Spinning her around by the arm, I pull her in closer to me. Her breath hitches and her eyes dilate a little, and it’s clear to me… she’s definitely attracted to me in such a way that maybe I don’t have to expend any further energy in seducing her. “Are you saying that you’re okay with just a f**k between us? You don’t need a romantic dinner and candlelight? Soft words… slow seduction?”
She snorts at me. “I think we completely bypassed that step yesterday, don’t you agree? We went right to the after-dinner dessert. ”
“That we did,” I murmur as I pull her in closer, flush up against my body so she can feel how much I want her.
As much as her words seem like a bold statement to me that she doesn’t need the softer side of Gavin, I don’t believe it for a second. Savannah may even be trying to prove to me, at this very minute, that she can play the confident role of a heroine. A woman that knows what she wants and goes for it, no matter what the cost.
Even though that would be a dream come true for me right now, I’m bound and determined to prove she’s not that type of woman.
Bringing my hands up, I cup her under her jawline, my hands circling around her throat. I give a soft squeeze and use my thumbs to stroke just under her chin. “So, I’m getting the feeling from you that maybe you want to finish what we started in the car yesterday?”
Sugar on the Edge Page 15
