“AS WICKED AS YOU WANT” by Nia Farrell
“Where is Daniel?”
“Upstairs napping,” I said. “His leg’s been bothering him today, courtesy of the Minié ball that he took at Fredericksburg. Whiskey helps, but when it gets like this, he needs to rest it. Young Frank pitched in and helped haul the crates upstairs. I hope to unpack tomorrow—although I’ll need tools to pry the boards.”
Edward eyed me speculatively. I flushed with guilt (it was impossible not to) when his gaze dropped to my lips, as if he knew where they’d been not two hours past.
One corner of his mouth twisted into a curious half smile. “After supper,” he said smoothly. “I will help you uncrate your things. Daniel can watch.”
My gaze flew up to meet his turquoise eyes. I watched his mind work for a moment, then shook my head. “I don’t know, Edward.”
“Nor do I,” he said. “I came home with news to share and find myself distracted by the sight of you. The smell of you. The scent of your sex and him on your skin, and all I can think of is, if I kiss you, will I taste him too?”
“Yes,” I croaked, scorched by the heat in his eyes.
“Come here,” he growled, still leaning against his desk, his whole body pulsing with promise.
I rose from my chair on trembling legs and managed to walk to where he stood.
“Kiss me,” he ordered.
I lifted my face and stepped closer, watching him, my eyes never leaving his. I needed to know what was behind them. So far he’d managed to keep himself just short of his flashpoint without flaring, but that could change in an instant. One heated breath, one fanning touch, and we might both go up in flames.