Desire's Edge by Eve Berlin Read Free Book Online Page B

with gold and bronze.
    Jesus, he was a poet suddenly. What the hell was up with him?
    He ran a hand over his beard stubble, thinking. Or trying not to think, maybe. He needed to shut his brain down and enjoy her being there. In his house. In his bed. It was Saturday. Maybe he could keep her there all weekend. Fuck her again. Spank her . . . maybe more.
    His cock rose, but he was too hungry to give in to it. Food first. Then sex. If she was up for it.
    He’d make sure she was.
    “Kara, hey.” He touched her cheek, and her lids fluttered, then closed. “Time to wake up.”
    “Hmm, what?”
    She looked up at him, her hazel eyes still half-lidded. Something sweet about her, all sleepy like this. Vulnerable. As vulnerable as she was when he was spanking her.
    “I need to eat. You’ve used up all my reserves,” he teased her.
    “I’m pretty sure you used most of it yourself.” She yawned, stretched her arms over her head, the sheet falling away from her superb breasts. Her nipples were hardening, going dark, he couldn’t help but notice.
    Food .
    “Either way, I’m about ready to pass out,” he said. “Up with you.” He rolled her onto her side and smacked her ass, making her laugh.
    “If we’re going somewhere, I could really use a shower, if that’s okay,” she said, sitting upright on the edge of the bed.
    “I’m cooking.”
    “Really?” She looked at him over her shoulder.
    God, her eyelashes were the longest he’d ever seen.
    Stop it. Get yourself under control, buddy .
    “Yes, really. What, you don’t think I can cook?”
    “You do seem awfully used to people waiting on you.”
    “I am.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “But I also make the best pancakes you’ve ever had.”
    “That sounds like a challenge.”
    “Try me.”
    She grinned at him. He didn’t want to think about why that made him so damn happy. Okay, maybe not happy. Cheerful.
    Something . . .
    Something he was not going to think about right now.
    He stood up, facing away from her to distract himself. He got a pair of pajama pants out of his dresser and pulled them on. “We can shower later. Are you hungry?”
    Oh yeah, to have her in the shower . . .
    He had a thing for the shower. Seeing a woman wet, the water running over her skin. The steam rising around him while he bent her over and slid into her . . . He had a great shower for sex. It was big enough to throw a party in. All smooth, pale granite with a bench seat, three showerheads, a vertical row of body jets. He was getting hard again thinking about Kara in his shower, her wet body . . .
    “I’m glad you’re planning to feed me,” she said, bringing him out of his shower fantasy. “I could eat a horse.”
    “Pancakes will have to do. Here, this will be more comfortable than your dress.”
    He handed her the top to his pajamas, which he never wore. She slipped the navy blue flannel over her head. It was enormous on her, the hem brushing her thighs, the front opening in a deep vee between her breasts. She looked a hell of a lot better in it than he did. She looked amazing. Sexy as hell.
    “Warm enough?” he asked her, trying to remember that they had to eat.
    “Yes. Fine.” She came up beside him. She was still tall, even without her heels on. Her bare legs looked especially naked to him from under the hem of the pajama top.
    “To the kitchen, wench. You’re going to help me.”
    “Bossy, aren’t you?”
    He looked down at her, locking his gaze with hers. “Yes. Yes, I am.”
    She smiled. But he saw her features go a little soft at this small reminder of the nature of their relationship.
    Not that it was a relationship . No, he just meant the dynamics of the sex. Yes, that was it. That was all it ever was for him. It was better that way.
    “I hope you like real Vermont maple syrup. Come on.”
    He led the way across the apartment, the dark wood floors cool beneath his bare feet. The afternoon light shone through the tall windows that opened up an