Page 30 of Edge of Desire

“You took a picture of it?”

“Yeah, next to a ruler to give it perspective.”

I bellowed as hard as I ever had.

“Oh no!”

“What?”

“The picture is on my phone and it’s at Justin’s.”

“Don’t worry. It’ll be fine. You can get it when the storm passes.”

“I hope so.”

We finished eating and I watched Avery’s head as it began to drop down as she dozed. Every time her chin hit her chest, it startled her awake. I finally reached out my arm and put it around her. “Use my shoulder so you can sleep.” She tried to pull away, but I held her tightly. “For once, can you not fight me and just relax? I promise I won’t bite.” I unbuckled her shoulder harness and she leaned against me, even though she didn't want to.

The tension left her body, and soon after, I heard her breathing even out. Not long after that, she purred again, and I just sat there and grinned.

Eleven

Avery

For some reason, it was difficult to breathe. It felt like I was having an asthma attack, only I didn’t have asthma. I pried my eyes open and found myself staring into darkness, which was odd. There should’ve been some kind of lighting in this plane. I wiggled my head around and I realized my face was smushed on something. Oh, no. I didn’t. But yes, I did. My face was planted in Preston’s lap, and there was something decidedly large and hard directly beneath my mouth. I jerked my head up and found myself eye to eye with the owner of such appendage.

He didn’t have to tell me. I already knew. I had drooled everywhere. My chin was wet with the darn stuff, and I didn’t dare look at where my head had just been. I tried to speak, but nothing came to the surface. He only stared at me, with those damn sexy eyes of his, half closed and all golden brown.

Why in God’s name had he let me sleep like that? I sat up, then dragged my hand across my mouth, wiping the drool off my face. Then, much to my dismay, or maybe it was my pleasure, he reached out his hand, took his thumb, and ran it across my chin.

“You missed a spot,” he murmured. His voice was deep and husky and caused shivers to run up my spine.

I licked my lips because my mouth had suddenly gone dry.

“You look very ...” he began, but I interrupted him.

“No, don’t bother telling me. I’m sure I look like something the cat dragged in.”

“That’s not what I was going to say.”

I hadn’t noticed at first, but we had a bit of an audience. When I sat all the way back in my seat, several men around us were giving Preston that look guys give each other. Then I made the mistake of letting my eyes drop to his crotch. I couldn’t stop the gasp that escaped. He had a giant circle of wet drool right smack-dab in the center, courtesy of yours truly.

“Jeez.” I rubbed my forehead. “Why didn’t you wake me up?”

“I wouldn’t have dared.” That’s all he said. What the heck did that mean?

The men that were close to us chuckled, Preston included. I flashed him the nastiest look I could muster. Then I added, “Go ahead and keep that up, mister.”

Then some rat bastard sitting a couple of people away from me leaned forward and said, “Oh, and what are you gonna do to him? Hit him up with another crotch drool?” There were other comments that flew around, but I couldn’t hear all of them for the noisiness of the plane. It was probably my saving grace, because I was mortified. There wasn’t any hope of extracting myself from this embarrassing predicament. Should I try to dab the drool from his crotch? Or would that draw even more attention to my major faux pas? Where was Melissa when I needed her most? I decided silence was my best course of action. Apparently, I had a pouty look on my face because Preston leaned over and whispered, “I wouldn’t stick your lip out that far if I were you. Those men over there would probably give their left nut to get their mouths on it.”

“Ah! Of all the ...”

“Hey, I’m not the one pouting.”

“Hrmpphh!” That was it. No more talking. This man was sending me so many mixed signals, I didn’t know if I was up or down anymore. And then there was that little thing about those men who wanted to kill us. What happened to my normal, mundane, boring life? I mean, one minute, I was living in Charleston, bored to death, killing myself with fried chicken and chocolate-covered donuts. The next, I’m flying in a humongous military jet, with some hot DEA agent, fleeing from some evil drug lords who wanted to kill us.

I went to take a breath and couldn’t draw any air into my lungs. And it wasn’t because my face was squished in hot DEA agent’s crotch. I seriously could not breathe. I was gulping in air like crazy, but it wasn’t reaching my lungs. My head jerked around, and then I hopped to my feet and bolted. I didn’t have a clue where I was going. I just had to get out of here. A loud roaring filled my ears, much more than what the plane made, and my vision swarmed with little dots. Someone’s hands latched on to my shoulders, and I tried to scream, but there was that no-oxygen thing, so I cowered, fell to my knees instead, and curled up into a ball. God, where was all the damn air? What was happening? My hands covered my ears because the thundering in them was so loud it hurt.

Something covered my mouth and I struggled to get away from it until a warm hand moved mine away from my ear. “Deep breaths, Avery. Long and slow.”

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