Page 35 of Edge of Desire

“Don’t be sorry. I’ve wanted to touch you since the first day I saw you.”

I swallowed, hard. His voice, husky and deep, took my breath away. My body betrayed my brain. Again. I didn’t want to desire him. I wanted to keep hating him. When I glanced at his eyes, they sparkled like gold. It really should be against the law for someone to look this sexy.

When I wasn’t choked up with lust, I said, “The same could be said for me.” I wanted to tear the shirt off his back and do all sorts of dirty things to him, but I hated myself for it.

“Preston?”

“Yes?”

“This is a little awkward. Being naked and all.”

“Hmm. I love you naked.”

“Well, that’s nice, but I’d feel better if you were naked too.” Where the heck did that come from?

He laughed.

“What I meant was, we’d be on an even playing field, so to speak. Not that we’re playing or anything.” Just shut up already.

He chuckled again. “Makes sense. Does this mean you’re not going to walk around naked all night?”

I scrunched up my face and said, “What?”

He smirked. “It would be amazing if you did. That’s all.”

I was still hugging him tightly. “Hardly. I don’t even want to let you go because then you’ll get a full frontal of me.”

With a finger under my chin, he tilted my head back and asked, “You really do have a body-image problem, don’t you?”

“That’s what happens when you gain a bunch of weight.”

“Avery, I don’t know what you looked like before, but to me you couldn’t look any better. You’re exactly how a woman should look. Curvy and soft. Not straight and hard. I don’t know why women think they need to look like men nowadays. It’s not attractive at all. You, on the other hand, are positively gorgeous.”

Okay, I’m not gonna lie. Preston just scored a million points with that comment. My anger began to slip away. He walked and tugged me along with him, still holding me against him. We went to the next room and standing next to the wall was the infamous towel warmer. He pulled one off and wrapped it around me. But before I could step away, he said, “Avery, there are things you should know about me”—he looked off to the other side of the room for a second or two—“things that aren’t so pleasant. Things I ...” He bit his lip, fighting to say the words.

“What is it?”

“Look, why don’t you get dressed and join me downstairs? Then we’ll talk.”

I nodded. It sounded much better than trying to have a conversation in this state.

It didn’t take long to pull on a pair of yoga pants and a sweatshirt. I slipped on some flip-flops and met him in the den.

He’d poured us some wine and handed me a glass. We sat on one of the couches. I loved this room. The focal point was a huge stone fireplace, but it had a vaulted beamed ceiling and was filled with soft cozy furnishings.

He released a long sigh, but before he spoke, I stopped him. “Look, I know you want to tell me something, but let me go first. I seriously don’t want to like you. After last night, I want to hate you. But there’s this annoying thing that won’t go away. I happen to be very attracted to you. I’ve told myself it was a passing thing, but that was a giant lie. With that being said, I’m willing to form a truce.”

His brow quirked. “A truce?”

“See, there you go, making fun of me.”

His jaw slackened and he asked, “Making fun of you? I’m not making fun of you.”

“Then why did your brow pop up? You did a brow smirk. I know what that means.”

“A brow smirk?”

“Yeah, your brow smirked at me."

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