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Cela’s throat worked as she swallowed hard, her lips parted, closed, opened again as if she had words to say but couldn’t pick which ones.

“Tell me what’s going on in that head of yours,” Foster said, keeping his voice even. “You don’t need to be afraid to say what you’re thinking.”

She licked her lips, the pulse at her throat visibly jumping. “First, I need to know what this is—tonight.”

Pike angled toward her on the couch. “We told you, doc. It’s your night to have a good time, whatever that may be.”

She looked to Pike, then back to Foster and lifted her hand to the neckline of her dress. Her fingers dipped underneath the material and moved along her sweat-dampened skin, riveting Foster’s gaze. She pulled a small square of paper out.

“What’s that?” Pike asked.

“In less than a month, I’ll be back in the small town I grew up in. Everything there is planned out for me in a nice, neat path. The job I’ve always known I’d have, the guy I’m supposed to date, the place I’m going to live.”

She hesitated and stared down at the paper, her thumb rubbing across the smooth white surface over and over again. Pike put a palm to her back, a gentle grounding touch that seemed to replenish Cela’s resolve. She gave them both a wavering half smile before continuing.

“I’ve lived my whole life working toward exactly that goal. It’s what I’ve wanted for so long. But I realized tonight that I’ve missed out on a lot of experiences that weren’t bullet points in the plan. I don’t want to go back home with a Never Have I Ever list a mile long.” She set the square of paper on the table, let her fingers linger on top of it for a moment, and then pushed it toward the center. “And I was hoping you two might help me scratch some things off the list.”

Foster’s attention zeroed in on the note, his heartbeat climbing up a notch.

“Whoa,” Pike said, her declaration apparently stunning the nothing-shocks-me musician.

Before Pike could take the liberty, Foster reached out and laid his palm over the small square, the paper slightly damp from being against Cela’s bare skin. He resisted the urge to bring it to his nose and inhale.

“That is,” she rushed on, her eyes darting toward Foster’s grip on her note. “If y’all are, you know, really interested in me or whatever but if not . . .”

“Shh . . .” Pike said, pressing his fingers against her lips. “Doc, if what’s on that sheet has anything to do with getting to touch you again, I have no doubt we’ll be all for it.”

Foster lifted the paper, unfolded it carefully, and stared down at the neat, bulleted list Cela had written on half a notebook page.

Never Have I Ever . . .

Broken the rules.

Had a one-night stand.

Lived out a fantasy.

Slept with the hot neighbors I’ve been crushing on for a year.

Lost control.

But I want to . . .

The paper crinkled beneath Foster’s finge

rtips as all sights and sounds around him seemed to fade, the words on the page nearly glowing at him. But I want to . . . He looked up at Cela, the vulnerable expression on her face reminding him of her youth, her innocence. But his stampeding libido trampled over those concerns, his cock hardening past the point of maybe. Yes, she was sweet. Inexperienced.

But the woman who wrote this list knew what she wanted, what she craved.

And he’d be damned if he was going to let someone else give it to her.

If Cela wanted to lose control with someone, he knew the guys for the task.

He stood, tucking the note in his pocket, and holding out a hand. “I think we’re done dancing.”


My heart was pounding hard enough to make my chest hurt, and a fine sheen of sweat had gathered on my neck, but I managed to get to my feet and take Foster’s offered hand. This is what I had wanted when I’d knocked on their door tonight. Wanton abandon. A departure from all that my predictable life normally was.


Tags: Roni Loren Loving on the Edge Erotic