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“Daisy…” He laughs somewhere over my head. “On that, we can agree.”
“I changed my mind,” I say, jerking my jeans upward. “Let’s just—”
When I straighten, he’s not grinning anymore. He drops the half-empty bottle and comes at me, no more than a step and a half across the narrow hall, and he’s in my face, so close I can feel his chest brush against mine, with every breath he takes. “Let’s just what?” he says, those shards of black in his eyes sharpening to a razor’s edge. “Cut our losses? Call it quits? Forget it ever happened?”
Yes.
Yes to all of it.
It would be better. So much easier to walk away now. I got what I came for. I could go home. Back to my safe, easy life. Lunch and shop. Chair committees and organize benefits.
Plan a wedding.
Live a lie.
When I don’t answer, he reaches for me, his hands sliding over the silk of my shirt. Pulling it closed, he starts to push its buttons through their loops, one by one. “None of that is going to happen,” he says, his gaze lowering to concentrate on his hands. “Because this is happening—you and me,” Last button fastened, he looks up at me. “And this time, it’s not going to be over until I say so.”
“Until you say so?” I can feel my eyes narrow, hackles instantly raised.
A muscle in his jaw twitches once. Twice, before he answers me. “That’s what I said. Want me to spell it?”
“No. What I want is for you to shove your say so straight up your ass.”
“Such language for a lady.” His lips quirk, but there’s nothing humorous about his expression. “What would your mother say?”
“Fuck you,” I seethe through clenched teeth even as shame burns its way through my gut.
“I always loved that sassy mouth of yours.” He tips his head forward so he can whisper in my ear. “But we both know I’m right. You’re not going anywhere.” His fingertips skim across my belly, lower and lower until they’re between my legs, brushing against the juncture of my thighs, stroking the seam of my pussy through my jeans. “You can’t.” He slips his free hand into my hair to cradle the back of my head, his mouth skating across my cheekbone. My jawline. “Because I’m it. I’m the one. The only person who can do this to you. Make you feel this way… and you know it. That’s why you’re here. Why you climbed in my window.” He applies pressure between my thighs, loosening the hinge on my knees. Making me gasp. “Tell me I’m wrong.”
I can’t.
“Conner.” I orgasmed twice only minutes ago, and I can already feel it building again. A tingling heat seated low in my belly. The resolve I felt just seconds ago evaporates, replaced by the sort of breathless desperation that should scare me. Would scare me if I had any sense.
He’s right.
All I want is him.
All I need is this.
“Fantastic—now that that’s settled…” His fingers slip higher, pressing my clit through fabric and flesh, giving me slow, tight sweeps that set me on fire. “Why don’t you do us both a favor and use that mouth of yours to tell me what’s bothering you…” He whispers while the fingers between my legs stop circling to move even higher. He raises his head, looks me in the eye while he pulls the zipper of my jeans up. “Instead of saying things you don’t mean.”
Dizzy. I’m dizzy and shaking, my hands latched around his biceps. Fingers digging into hard muscle. “You’re not going to like it.” I say it to his cheekbone once the room stops spinning.
“I don’t need to like it, Daisy—” Fingers grip my chin, tilting it until I’m looking him in the eye again. “I just need to hear it.”
I stare up at him, pressure building behind my eyes. Prickling at their corners. “You drink a lot.”
“I do.” That’s it. That’s all he says. No excuses. No justification. No reassurance that it’s not a problem. That he can stop if he wants.
His blunt honesty knocks something loose inside me. Makes it easier to say what comes next. “I don’t like it.”
How many times did I say as much to my father? Tell him how much it scared me to see him wasted. How many times did I find him unconscious and think he was dead. How many times did I beg him to stop.
Clean up.
Take care of himself.
Take care of us.