Read Online Pure Lust Vol. 1 by M. S. Parker, Cassie Wild - Free Book Online

“I don’t know. I’m still searching for them.”
    We both laughed and I realized I was seriously considering transitioning into a heavily censored version of my foray into hand modeling when a plate of samosas arrived and we both eyed them hungrily. I watched him crunch into the flaky crust and close his eyes as he chewed the mouth-watering mix of spiced ground beef and peas. With his eyes closed, I was able to get a good look at him without him knowing.
    He was wearing a navy blue suit, but this time without a tie and, in the twinkling glow of the restaurant, he looked relaxed and happy. I noticed his light brown hair was sun-streaked and the open collar of his shirt showed a muscular and tan chest. His eyes opened and I turned my attention to my own plate.
    “You seem like the sporty type. What do you do for fun?” I asked, trying to get my mind off of those broad shoulders.
    “Promise not to judge?”
    I grinned. “Only if you give me the last samosa.”
    “Deal.” He pushed the small plate across the table. “Polo.”
    “You mean with the game thingy with the horses?”
    “That’s the one.”
    He sipped his wine and watched me, as if my reaction to his revelation was important. I liked that he cared what I thought, although I wasn’t sure why he was concerned about what I’d think of a game.
    “Sounds like fun,” I said and he relaxed.
    The main dishes arrived, steaming up the small window above our table, and Edward ordered another bottle of wine. We skipped separate plates and shared bites from each savory dish, rolling our eyes and moaning at each tantalizing taste. Our conversation veered off into favorite books we read in childhood and we laughed over our shared secret love of science fiction.
    “I thought I was the only one that carried a towel around my backyard and waited to hitchhike on passing spaceships,” I said.
    “Are you kidding? I got a telescope just to look for rides out into the galaxy.”
    When we finished, we both tipped back in our chairs. I looked down at the table, startled by the sheer volume of food we’d consumed. It was probably a good thing I’d skipped the narrow pencil skirt.
    “Do you want to take a walk?” Edward asked.
    “I’d better or you’ll have to roll me home.” I smiled.
    He paid the bill without letting me argue about splitting it and we strolled down the block where he signaled to his driver to move on. The car slowly drifted away and we turned the corner. I saw Washington Square a few blocks away and Edward slipped an arm around my waist as we walked towards it. His hand rested on my hip, a warm brand. We’re together, that touch said. I liked it.
    We passed several wide gallery windows where New York’s socialites were fawning over new artists. I stopped in front of one white-walled gallery displaying black and white photographs. They reminded me of Flynn. I tried to swallow the ache that rose in my chest as I remembered the look in his eyes as he’d aimed the camera held such passion, so focused, so intent.
    Stop it .
    I wanted to be there, leaning against Edward with his arm around my waist, but my mind suddenly fixed on Flynn, wondering where in the world he was at that moment.
    Probably French-kissing some silly waitress in Paris or seducing a young senorita in Spain, I thought and tried to shake him from my head.
    “Everything alright?” Edward asked, his tone concerned.
    “I’m fine,” I said, dragging my thoughts away from the images. I put my head on his shoulder.
    The farther we got from the gallery, the easier it was to put Flynn out of my head, the easier it was to focus on the man next to me. It was so easy being with him. Just walking in the warmth of the night—everything felt easy. “Maybe you should pinch me. Is it just me or is this date going really well?”
    Edward stopped me at the edge of the park and turned me so we were facing each other. When I didn’t look up, too focused on trying to remember how to breathe, he