Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 99313 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 497(@200wpm)___ 397(@250wpm)___ 331(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99313 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 497(@200wpm)___ 397(@250wpm)___ 331(@300wpm)
Her mouth drops open as I stalk to my room. I need some distance, so I can wrangle my emotions back under control again. I’ll be damned if I’m forced into admitting something that won’t do either of us any good.
“I never took you for chickenshit,” she yells.
I spin around to face her. Anger and desire rush through my system. “Excuse me?”
She jumps from the couch. Our gazes lock as she closes the distance between us.
“You heard me.” The closer she gets, the further she tips her head back to meet my eyes. “You’re a chickenshit, Carter Prescott. I don’t understand why you can’t just be honest with me. What’s the big deal?”
I clench my hands into fists to quash the need to reach out and grab hold of her, to haul her body against mine.
But I can’t do that.
She’s not mine.
Daisy will never be mine.
Those thoughts slice through me like a razor. Pain radiates throughout my entire being.
Why can’t she just let this go?
Doesn’t she realize that I’m holding on by a thread?
When I remain silent, she comes at me again with, “You’ve spent all these years pressing my buttons and pissing me off. There has to be a reason.”
I don’t know why I expected anything different. This is quintessential Daisy Thompson. It’s one of the qualities I admire most about her. When that girl wants something, she won’t rest until she has it.
It’s called tenacity, and it’s hot as hell. Except in this instance, when she’s doing her best to wear me down.
She takes another step toward me, and I stand my ground. When she reaches out to touch me, I grab her hand before she can make contact. My fingers wrap around her wrist to hold her in place. I don’t think I could stand to feel her fingers brushing across my skin.
“Just tell me the truth,” she implores. “Don’t I deserve that much?”
My heart stutters.
As much as I want to give her what she’s asking for, I can’t. “There’s nothing to tell. There never was.” I shrug. “You’ve had too much to drink.”
Daisy laughs and shakes her head. “Come on, Carter. You know that I’m not drunk. Maybe I was buzzed earlier at the party, but I’m not anymore.” She steps closer, but I don’t release her wrist.
“Go to bed,” I plead. “And we can forget this conversation ever happened. Okay?”
Once I crumble, there won’t be any turning back.
She takes another step until her breasts press against my chest. “Is that what you want?” Her other hand rises and cups my cheek. “To forget?”
God, no.
I shake my head as my gaze drops to her mouth. She nips her bottom lip with her teeth. How many times have I dreamed about doing that?
Too many times to count.
“Fuck,” I mutter.
The walls I’ve built around myself tumble down more easily than I could have predicted. Whether this is a good idea or not no longer matters because it’s going to happen. There’s no stopping it.
My arm snakes around her, yanking her close enough to feel my erection against her belly. “Is this what you want?” I rasp in a last-ditch attempt to scare her off.
Part of me prays she’ll shake her head and tell me no. If she does, then I can walk away, and we can pretend this was just drunken stupidity. Maybe I need to call her bluff. Daisy jerks her wrist free from my grip, and I wonder if I’ve finally pushed too far, if this will be the moment she comes to her senses.
It should be a relief. A narrowly averted disaster. But it’s not. Disappointment rushes through me, nearly swallowing me whole.
Instead of untangling herself from me, she places her other hand against the side of my face, reaches up on her toes, and presses her lips against mine. She doesn’t close her eyes but watches me the entire time.
And just like that, I’m lost.
My hands drop to her backside and lift her off the ground. Her legs wrap around my waist. Her pussy is flush against my cock. She whimpers at the contact, fusing her mouth to mine. Our tongues mingle, retreating and thrusting.
I don’t realize that we’re in my room or that I’ve closed the door until I lower her onto my bed. The unthinkable has happened. My iron-clad control has snapped. I search her lust-filled eyes knowing there’s no turning back.
Not anymore.
“You better be damn sure you want this,” I bite out.
Those harshly spoken words hang in the air between us as I wait to see what she’ll do next.
21
DAISY
Iwant to laugh, but don’t think I can muster the sound. Here’s a little-known truth that I’ve only recently admitted to myself. I want Carter Prescott. I’ve wanted him since I first laid eyes on him, even though I’ve pretended otherwise.
“I want this, Carter,” I whisper.