Desire's Edge Read Free Page A

go away to college. But she was all grown up now. Warm and female, her pale skin luminous in the amber light of the porch. As they’d talked, she’d begun to lean toward him, sending a subtle signal. And now her smile—sweet and sensual and reflecting the same desire he felt like a sharp current in his system—just about knocked him out.
    Her light brown hair was long, as it had been in high school, a smooth, heavy sheaf of shining strands. He wanted to touch it. He wanted to touch her .
    He wanted her.
    Slow down, buddy.
    His body didn’t want to. But this was someone he’d known years ago, not some girl to pick up in a bar or at the Pleasure Dome, the BDSM club he’d frequented the last several years. Not a woman to have a brief fling with then never see again. Kara was the girl next door. Literally. And he was always especially careful with the vanilla girls. Not that he couldn’t enjoy sex with a woman who wasn’t interested in the rougher games he played. He could. He often did. But that taboo edge made things more exciting. Revealing that to someone new was always a delicate situation. Revealing that to someone he’d known when they were just kids . . . But they weren’t kids anymore.
    Jesus, he was thinking as though she’d already offered to sleep with him, offered herself up to him on a silver platter.
    Not that he’d mind if she did.
    He went hard thinking about that. He couldn’t help it.
    Calm down.
    He pulled in a long breath of the cool night air, exhaled.
    “Would you like me to get you some more wine?” he asked her, thinking a short diversion might be a good idea, a moment inside the house where he could cool off.
    “No, I don’t need any more. Thanks.”
    She set the glass down on the floor of the porch. Smiled at him again. That sweet mouth. Her lips would be so soft . . . and suddenly he couldn’t think of any reason not to just lean in and kiss her.
    He did—one hand going to her cheek, he moved in a little at a time, giving her a chance to pull away. But all she did was part her lips, her big hazel eyes on his, then fluttering shut as he got closer.
    Her lips were soft, softer than he’d imagined. And she was going soft all over, her body yielding, leaning into his. Yielding was one thing he recognized easily. And this woman had it, that ability to give herself over, whether she was aware of it or not.
    She opened her lips and he slipped his tongue inside. She tasted of wine, liquid and sweet. And she was kissing him back, her mouth welcoming him. Drawing him deeper.
    She moaned quietly, and it went through him like a shock. He kept kissing her, just kissing her, and he was as hard as if she’d had her hands on him, or her gorgeous mouth.
    Jesus.
    He pulled back, and she held perfectly still, her eyes closed, her mouth still slightly parted. Her lips were plush, a little swollen from his kiss. He wanted to kiss her again. But he was actually afraid that if he did, he might push her too far, too fast. Because the truth was, he wanted to strip her down, push her onto her back right there on the narrow porch swing, and sink into her. Do every dirty thing he’d ever imagined back in high school. And a few more things he’d learned since.
    He groaned.
    Her lashes fluttered; her eyes opened.
    “Dante?”
    “Yeah. Do I need to apologize?”
    “No. That was as much my fault as it was yours.”
    “Does anyone need to be at fault here?” he asked, needing to know, to be certain he wasn’t imagining she wanted him.
    “Maybe not.”
    That sweet smile again. God, she was something.
    He realized he still had his hand on her face. Her cheek was smooth beneath his palm, the skin silky and cool in the chilly night air.
    “Are you cold?” he asked her.
    “No, I’m fine. I’m good.”
    She looked a bit dazed. She looked exactly the way he felt. Overcome by lust.
    No woman had ever had this effect on him, not that he could remember. Could it be the reawakening of those long-held teenage