Sugar on the Edge (22 page)

Then I fuck her slowly, twining my fingers among hers and finally groaning from the bottom of my chest when I come deeply inside of her.

I find Savannah downstairs the next morning, standing at the counter, watching the coffee as it brews. She hears me, turning to give me that shy smile over her shoulder, and says, “Good morning.”

“Would have been better if you were in my bed when I had woken up,” I tell her as I come to stand beside her. Her cheeks fire red over my compliment, so I reward her by threading my fingers through her hair, to the back of her head, and pull her upward for a kiss.

When I release her, she gives a tiny sigh of contentment and pulls away to grab two coffee cups. After she pours for both of us, doctoring hers up with milk and sugar, I take her hand and lead her into the living room. I sit on one end of the couch, and she curls her legs up underneath her on the other end.

She’s so fucking sexy, wearing nothing but a T-shirt and pale blue panties that I can see sticking out from under the hem.

“I have a proposition for you,” I tell her after I take my first sip of coffee.

“If it involves us naked and with you giving me a big, fat orgasm, then I accept,” she says with a grin.

Laughing… laughing, and it feels so good. Foreign, but good.

“Funny girl. I think I can manage that… but later. I want to talk business with you.”

Her eyes go serious, and she takes another sip of coffee. “What’s up?”

“I want to hire you to be my assistant,” I tell her and wait for her reaction.

I have no clue what it will be, but this is an idea I started harboring yesterday as I watched her take photos of the wild horses in the ocean. I thought about it some more, once while I was plunged deep inside of her, and again as I watched her in the moonlight last night. I came to the realization that I wanted more of her, and seeing her a few times a week after she cleaned my house wasn’t enough. It wasn’t going to be enough, even if she stayed over with me every night.

No, I wanted her in my house… while I worked, knowing she was nothing but a flight of stairs away from me, so I could have her whenever I wanted.

Simply put… she had become an obsession for me, and while I wondered about the lunacy of my thoughts, I really decided that I didn’t give a flying fuck if I was going crazy. In the short time I’d known her, I had become addicted to her brand of sweet.

“Your assistant?” she asked in confusion. “What do you need an assistant for?”

Indeed… what do I need one for?

“Lots of things,” I blurt out, my mind racing to come up with ideas. “Errands… I have errands to run. I have fan mail to go through, correspondence to answer. I have a schedule I need to maintain. I have a book signing in Chicago week after next, and I need help with research and proofreading. I have phone calls to return, dry cleaning to pick up, Facebook and Twitter posts to respond to, and a blog to maintain. I need to buckle down on this manuscript, and I don’t have time for all of that.”

“Why do I feel like there’s more to it than that?” she asks skeptically, holding the rim of her coffee cup just below her nose so she can breathe in the fragrance.

“You caught me,” I say with a grin. “I just want you around twenty-four-seven, so I can fuck you whenever I want.”

That’s so much closer to the truth than she’ll ever know, but I’m not about to admit that to her. That, all of a sudden, she’s become my weakness.

Luckily, Savannah takes it as a joke and snorts at me before taking another sip of coffee.

“So, what do you think?” I ask her. “I’ll pay you twenty dollars an hour and you can give up breaking your back cleaning houses and having weird photographers grope at you. You can also take the time to find another photography job… one that will be perfect for you when I’m done here and ready to leave.”

“And when might you be ready to leave?” she asks quietly.

Shrugging my shoulders, I hedge. “A few months probably.”

I know I promised my manuscript would be done in two weeks, but no way is that happening. I’m going to drag it out just a bit further, so there is no real need for me to leave the islands just yet.

No need to leave Savannah just yet.

“Let me think about it,” she says thoughtfully.

It took me all of eighteen hours to think about it, then I accepted Gavin’s offer. I gladly called Eric and gave him my notice… effective immediately. I also called the two women whose houses I cleaned in addition to Gavin’s and told them I had to quit because I was accepting a full-time job. They were sad to see me go, but mollified when I recommended a good cleaning service that Casey had told me about.

When I wake up for my first day on the job as his assistant, Gavin’s breath is hot on the back of my neck and his hand is working between my legs, two fingers deep.

“About time you woke up, love,” he murmurs, and then kisses me on the side of my neck. “I thought we’d start our first workday together right.”

“I insist we start every workday this way,” I pant as he strokes me in just the right way.

“And weekends?” he teases as his index finger circles my clit and causes my back to arch away from him. .

“And weekends,” I agree as I feel my impending orgasm start to crash through me.

Abruptly, Gavin’s hand is gone, and I am thrown violently backward from the precipice of pleasure. “Why’d you stop?” I practically shriek.

Rolling from the bed, Gavin gives a soft chuckle and makes his way over to the dresser. “I have something in mind.”

I lift my head and shoulders from the bed, propped on my elbows, and watch his amazingly sculpted ass and chiseled shoulders as he rummages through one of his drawers. When he turns to face me, he has a silk tie in his hands, pale yellow with light blue stripes running diagonally across it. I watch, mesmerized, as he walks back toward the bed, winding the very ends around each of his hands until there’s only about half a foot left in between. He gives a snap outward, drawing the material taut.

“Wanna play?” he asks me deviously.

I swallow past the immediate dryness he’s caused in my throat and nod my head, even as a small twist of fear snakes up my spine. I’ve never been tied up before, and it’s clear the intent deep within his gray eyes.

“Come here,” he commands me, and I don’t hesitate before throwing the covers off and rolling out bed. His eyes run up and down my body appreciatively as I walk toward him, and Gavin never fails to make me feel anything less than the most beautiful creature in the world when I’m in his presence.

When I stop just a foot away, he tells me, “Turn around. Put your hands behind your back.”

I do as he asks, trying to control the trembling of my body. Gavin bends over and places a soft kiss on my shoulder.

“I won’t hurt you, Sweet,” he tells me gently. “Not unless you beg me to.”

I groan at the thought of all the ways in which I may beg him to make it hurt. Images of his open palm smacking my ass pour through my mind, and I can feel desire building between my legs.

Gavin starts to wrap the tie around my hands as my wrists rest against each other behind my back. As he works, he murmurs in my ear, “You know… I’ve experimented with all types of bondage. I’ve used cuffs, gags, shackles, and crotch ropes.”

When I shudder, he licks the shell of my ear and taunts me. “That’s right, sweet girl… crotch ropes. I’m betting you would love that, having me wrap you in soft rope, over your breasts, binding you at the elbows, then running it right down in between your legs… right up the center of your—”

The moan that tears out of my throat is unexpected, and my head falls backward as if my neck has no strength to support it in the face of such filthy imagery. Gavin laughs softly, pulling tighter on the tie around my wrists. “I’m teasing you, Savannah. I’d never want to dirty up my sweet that way.”

Disappointment sweeps through me in a rolling wave, but then he says, “Not unless you begged me to.”

I don’t even have a chance to groan out a response because Gavin gives a slight tug to the material binding my hands behind me and turns me around by my shoulders.

He peers down at me, his eyes searching mine. “You okay?”

I nod at him, giving him a sure smile. “Peachy.”

“Good,” he says, almost with pride, and strokes a finger down my cheek. “Now… get down on your knees for me, Sweet. I want to see what you can do with just your mouth alone.”

Now I can’t help the groan that tears up out of me, and Gavin’s eyes fill with heat from my response. I hold his gaze, even as I lower myself to the soft rug that covers a good chunk of his bedroom’s hardwoods. When I come eye level with his cock, I let my eyes slide down his body and look at the massive erection standing straight up just inches from my face. It’s so beautiful… dusky rose with a thick, fat vein running underneath.

Gavin’s hands gently cup the sides of my face. “Open your mouth, love.”

I lick my lips once and then open my mouth, raising my eyes to meet his once more. He looks down at me with such intensity that I feel burned from the inside out.

“Fuck… you are so beautiful, kneeling there in front of me, utterly submissive and helpless. Tell me, Sweet… are you going to swallow me down?”

I nod at him, refusing to say the words aloud because I’m afraid they’ll come out in a helpless squeak of desire, which would not be sexy at all.

“That’s my girl,” he says softly, pulling my face toward him.

Gently, he guides me forward until the head of his cock brushes against my lips. I circle my tongue briefly around the head before pushing forward and taking him all the way in.

Gavin grunts loudly in pleasure and the knowledge that I just pulled forth that ubiquitous sound from deep within him floods me with power.

His fingers thread through my hair and grip me by the back of my head. I pull back, dragging my tongue down the length of him and pulling forth an equally sexy groan from him, before sucking on the tip. I start to go down on him again, but Gavin applies pressure to my head to stop me.

His voice sounds strangled when he says in wonderment, “You’re a little too good at that. Tell you what… hold still, beautiful girl, and let me just fuck your mouth for a minute.”

I have no clue what that means, but then he shows me as he holds my head tightly and starts to move his hips. In and out of my mouth, his cock moves, not too deep, stopping just before hitting the back of my throat. I curve my tongue along him, sucking in my jaws slightly on every other beat to give him more friction.