Page 9 of Over the Edge

The reality was even better than her imagination. She’d failed to factor in the vibrant warmth of him and all that sheer, raw masculinity.

Big hands landed on her waist. Heat soaked through her thin shirt, scorching her skin. He’d put his hands on her dozens of times before, showing her how to throw a grenade, positioning her next to a sniper rifle, spotting her as she learned to use climbing rigs to go up and down walls. But it had never felt like this.

Never had electricity zinged into her, never had his fingers tightened and loosened convulsively on her body. Never had he made her feel so feminine and desired. Sonoticed.

He leaned in until his lips were a hair’s width from hers.Was he actually going to—

His lips touched hers. It was the barest brush of warmth against her mouth. Her pulse jumped, and joy leaped and spun with abandon in her stomach. She moaned in approval. He kissed her again, a little bit more firmly. Enough to register the warmth and resilience of his lips against hers.

And then, all of a sudden, hereallykissed her. It was an all out, open mouthed, wet tongued, gotta have you, near tonsillectomy kind of kiss. Which she returned in full. Their mouths slashed across each other, tongues tousling and breath mingling, hot and moist.

She looped her right leg around his hips, and he leaned into her with a groan, grinding his hips against hers until she groaned back.

Shocked at the raw lust consuming her, she gasped. He froze, his mouth still lightly on hers. His breath was a benediction against her lips, and something shifted deep down inside her soul.

A door had opened between them. One that would not be easily shut again. Her emotions, held back with all her strength for the past year, rushed out in a massive surge that completely overwhelmed her. No way, no how, was she putting all these feelings back in a mental drawer. They were loose for good. Profound relief warred with the unbridled lust pounding through her.

Everything had changed between them. She could never again see him as merely a colleague. He was suddenly a man. All man. Sexy, smart, amazing, relationship-material man. A man she desperately wanted in ways she should never want a co-worker. And given the way he was all but devouring her, it was a good bet he was experiencing the same epiphany.

The entire world tilted around them. And when it righted once more, it was aligned to a completely new pole where they were wildly, irrevocably attracted to each other.

She whispered against his mouth, “I can’t tell you how long I’ve been—“

He jerked away abruptly, startling her into not finishing telling him exactly how long she’d been waiting for this. His hands fell away from her, and the night air felt chilly on her skin. He stared down at her as if weighing a monumental decision. Then, with a quick, hard shake of his head, he stepped back from her.

He held up his hand, and his car keys dangled from his fingertips.

Damn him!

It wasn’t as if she could complain about his distraction tactics. After all, she’d used the exact same ones to get his keys in the first place. Still. That kiss.

Pandora’s box of grown-up attraction had been flung open and nothing—nothing—was going to put memory of that smoking hot kiss back in the box.

Trevor strode away from her at a pace just shy of an outright run. She hurried after him, determined not to let him drive after the copious scotch he’d consumed.

Right. That’s totally why I’m chasing him. It had nothing to do with needing to kiss him again more than she needed to breathe.

“I’ll order you a cab,” she called at his back. “I’ve got an app for it on my phone. My credit card is linked to the account, so you can stiff me for the cost of the ride.”

That got his attention. “I pay my own debts, thank you very much.”

She caught up with him and was breathing harder than that short little sprint should’ve made her. “Fine. Consider the cab a gift from me to you. Take my word for it, the American military has no sense of humor whatsoever when it comes to driving under the influence of alcohol.”

“Neither does the British military,” he observed.

“Great! Then we’re agreed. You’re not driving home.”

“Correct. I’m merely driving away from here.”

His words, lightly delivered, smashed into her with the weight of a wrecking ball. He was so eager to get away from her that he was willing to risk his career, his life, and the lives of other drivers on the road tonight, to do it.

An urge crawled across her skin to find the nearest rock and burrow under it. She was such an idiot! She’d spent all of the past year drooling over the guy. And then she’d clearly read a whole lot into their kiss that he didn’t seem to think was there.

He felt nothing at all for her, while she…she…

…she had no words for the pain grinding her down to nothing.

Crushed didn’t quite describe how she felt.

---