Naked Edge: Season 1 Episode One
This is book 1 of a serialized novella. Each episode is a cliffhanger.
A sexy paramedic tries to protect his heart from the adrenaline junkie that shattered it four years ago.
The first time Skylar and Rusty give themselves to each other completely--heart, mind, body and soul--is also the night Skylar disappears without a trace. Rusty promised to love her forever. But forever is a long time when you're only seventeen.
After years of waiting, Rusty gives up on Skylar and tries to purge her memory with cheap tequila and casual sex. When Skylar finally returns, Rusty is no longer the shy, sweet boy she fell in love with. He's a gorgeous, hard-bodied, paramedic and an expert in just about every type of mountain wilderness rescue. He's also bitter, angry and determined to protect what remains of his shattered heart. Skylar's determined to reclaim it, but first she has to put it back together.
Read an excerpt:
Rusty turns my hands over and kisses both palms. “I didn’t break any of my promises until after the funeral.”
My heart stops. I take a step back to give myself some breathing room. “Why then?”
“I ran out of excuses.” He shrugs. “You were nineteen. I couldn’t blame your absence on your parents anymore.”
“Is that when you started to hate me?”
“I never hated you.” Rusty lifts my chin with his forefinger and ducks his head to capture my gaze. “I tried. Everyday since the funeral, I tried to hate you. But it never worked. I could be angry with you, furious even, but hate you? Never.”
I’m melting into a puddle of Rusty-adoring goo. I need to reestablish a few boundaries, before I forget how. I rock back on my heels.
Rusty slides his calloused palms down my arms, guiding my hands to his shoulders. He digs his fingers into my hips and pulls me against his body. Holy crap, he’s hard.
I instinctively lean into him. We’re both trembling.
I sway on my feet. “Can we sit down? I’m feeling a little lightheaded.”
He pulls back, and searches my face. “Do you need your inhaler?”
“No. I’m just nervous.”
He chuckles. “Me too.”
“I haven’t done this in a long time.”
“That’s not what I heard.” I push away from him.
He catches my wrists, completely encircling them with his fingers. His voice deepens to a growl. “What have you heard?”
“That you’re with a different girl every night.” I stare into his eyes, daring him to lie to me.
“That’s a gross exaggeration.” He lets go of my hands and sits on the edge of the bed.
I sit beside him and put a hand on his knee. “I get that you felt betrayed. And I understand why you broke your promise to never make love to anyone but me. But I don’t understand—”
“I didn’t break that promise.”
“Don’t lie to me, Rusty.” My heart aches. I hate that he sleeps around, but I can forgive him as long as he stops doing it and doesn’t lie about it. If he lies, we don’t have a chance.
“I’ve fucked more women than I can count, but you’re the only one I’ve ever made love to.”
I really shouldn’t find that obscene remark the least bit endearing. I bite my lip to keep from smiling. I can’t let him think for one second that I’m okay with his promiscuity. Because I most certainly am not.
“I’ve never kissed anyone but you, either.” His cheeks flush. I definitely find that endearing.
“You’re joking, right?”
“I don’t like kissing, so I don’t do it.” He cups my cheek. “If anyone has a problem with it, they can walk away.”
“Has anyone ever walked away?”
He quirks one side of his mouth up into a lopsided grin then caresses my lower lip with his thumb. “Never.”
“That cocky attitude of yours is not the least bit sexy.” My shallow, rapid breathing and racing heart indicate otherwise. Who’s the liar now?
He brushes his lips across mine, barely touching them, softer than the stroke of a butterfly’s wing. He kisses my neck, right below my ear. “Did you seriously just use cocky and sexy in the same sentence?”
“I thought you didn’t like kissing.” I tilt my head, giving him better access to my throat.
He kisses a trail across my collarbone. “I don’t like kissing anyone but you.”
My eyelids flutter shut.
He brushes his lips across mine again. Once, twice, and then his mouth captures mine. His tongue sweeps across the seam of my lips, a subtle request for permission to enter.
I can’t refuse him. He tastes so good. A hint of cinnamon layered over something that is pure Rusty. I search for an analogy so I can always remember it. His taste, his smell. God I missed it. But how do you describe the taste of pure bliss? He moves slowly, gently. So tenderly. His kiss is just as I remembered. It awakens something deep inside me. Something that has lain dormant for the past four years. A whole-body yearning that’s so intense it’s painful.
I love that he’s being careful with me, but I need more. I keep one hand over his heart and tangle the other in his hair. I pull his face closer and suck his lower lip into my mouth.
A primitive, animalistic sound rumbles deep inside his chest, vibrating against my palm. He thrusts his tongue into my mouth. No longer gentle, he’s claiming more than just my lips. I follow his lead as he establishes a seductive rhythm that promises so much more.
Ariel Adams is a best-selling young adult author under a different pen name. She has had an overactive imagination since she was a child and is finally able to fully express all the crazy through her fun and sometimes broken characters. Please contact her with questions or feedback at firstname.lastname@example.org.