His breath was still warm against my lips when I finally stepped back not because I wanted distance, but because if I didn't, I was going to climb him right there in the middle of the bar.
He watched me with an expression that made my knees tremble again. Half desire, half challenge.
And I didn't back down.
"Tell me your name," he said quietly.
I licked my lips, still tasting him. "Leah."
He repeated it slowly, like it meant something. "Leah."
The way he said it made something deep inside me clench.
"I'm Edward."
Edward.
God, even his name was sexy.
I didn't say anything. I just stared at him at the way he leaned against the high bar stool, relaxed but powerful, his eyes locked onto me like he was trying to decide whether to kiss me again or drag me home by the waist.
The tension between us was electric.
He broke it first.
"You kissed me like you meant it," he said.
"I did."
"You're not usually that bold, are you?"
I shrugged. "Maybe you bring it out of me."
His lips twitched. "I wouldn't mind bringing more out of you."
My breath hitched.
I shouldn't have felt so turned on by a stranger's words. Shouldn't have wanted him the way I did. But I was already drowning in him, and I wasn't even ashamed.
"Edward…" My voice came out lower than I expected husky, needy. "Come home with me."
His eyes darkened instantly. "You're not wasting time, are you?"
"Do I look like I want to waste time?"
He let out a low, rough laugh. "No. You look like you want to ruin me."
"Maybe I do."
He exhaled slowly, almost like he needed the control. "Why me?"
I stepped closer, my hand brushing his chest. Solid. Warm. Dangerous.
"Because you're the first man I've looked at in months and thought…" My fingers curled around the fabric of his shirt. "Yes. That one."
"And what do you want to do with 'that one'?" he murmured, leaning in.
I swallowed. "Everything."
He drew in a sharp breath. "Leah…"
"Yes?"
"If I go home with you" he paused, eyes dropping to my mouth "I'm not going to be gentle."
A shiver shot through me. "Good."
"I'm not going to be slow."
"I don't want slow."
"And I'm not going to pretend I don't want you."
"Edward," I whispered, "I want you too. Clearly."
His jaw flexed.
He looked around the bar briefly, as if making sure we still had some semblance of privacy, then grabbed my waist, pulling me close. So close I could feel the heat of him through my clothes.
"This is a bad idea," he said softly.
"I know."
"You just met me."
"I know."
"You're probably going to regret this."
"Edward…"
"Yes?"
I leaned up, my lips brushing his ear. "Come home with me."
He growled.
Actually growled. A low, primal vibration from his chest that shot straight between my legs.
"Say it again," he demanded.
I smiled slowly. "Come home with me."
His hand slid lower, gripping my hip as though he was imagining exactly what he'd do once we got there. "You're dangerous."
"I'm divorced," I corrected.
"That makes it worse."
"Come home with me."
He closed his eyes briefly, like he was holding himself back.
Then he stood up.
God.
He was even taller than I thought. My breath caught as he stepped closer until the bar stool behind me hit the back of my legs.
His fingers stroked my chin lightly. "Are you absolutely sure?"
"Yes."
"You're not drunk, right?"
"I've had two drinks, not twenty."
"And you're not doing this to forget someone?"
I paused.
I wasn't going to lie.
"I'm doing this to forget a man who didn't deserve me," I said. "And to feel something good for once."
His eyes softened only a little then darkened again. "Then let me give you something good."
Heat rushed through my entire body.
"And let me be clear," he added, dragging his thumb across the corner of my mouth, "once I touch you, I'm not stopping until you're begging."
My knees nearly gave out. "Then don't make me wait."
He stepped back a single inch, just enough to look at me fully. "You're trouble."
"You like trouble."
He smirked. "Yeah. I do."
"Then come home with me."
He grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair and slung it over his shoulder. "Lead the way."
My heart raced.
I reached for his hand instinctively, not thinking but he caught my wrist instead, slowly intertwining his fingers with mine.
He looked down at our hands, then at me.
"You're shaking," he said.
"I'm excited."
"You're nervous."
"Maybe a little."
He leaned in, lips brushing my cheek. "Good."
"Why good?"
"Because I'm dying to see how you fall apart beneath me."
My breath stuttered.
He pulled away, giving me a hungry, almost wicked smile. "Let's go."
I turned toward the exit, but he tugged me back gently. "Wait."
"What?"
He looked at my lips again. "One more."
I didn't even have time to answer before he kissed me hard, fast, consuming. The kind of kiss that made my toes curl and my brain switch off.
When he pulled away, I was breathless.
"Now," he murmured, "I'm ready."
I swallowed, my voice barely steady. "Follow me."
He did.
And with every step toward the door, I felt my heart pounding harder, my body warming, my mind racing with anticipation.
Because I knew exactly what I was taking home tonight.
A mistake.
A distraction.
A stranger.
A man who kissed like he wanted to devour me.
A man who was about to change everything.