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DARYL

I came in to check she was doing okay and to sneak a glimpse or two — to fill my heart for another day — and instead she gives me an earful of temptation and an eyeful of her intentions.

The girl is pure heaven and mischief both, wrapped up in conservative clothing and bound by her father’s possessive, manipulative wrath. Skirt up, she’s half undone, and I want to unwrap the rest of her so badly, but I know I shouldn’t. If anyone found out, she’d face humiliation any time she left her house, and she’d be isolated even more. She’s crying out for freedom, and it kills me that my touching her would only cause her chains to tighten.

I hate to see her locked up out of reach on the shelf. She deserves better. Cadence Malone isn’t the kind of person who should be kept hidden away and made to feel small. She should be held high and encouraged to shine. Her heart is pure love and everyone from babies to the old and infirm want to bask in her heliotropic energy — she’s the sun we all want to orbit. To see her constantly kept dimmed and tucked away, unseen, is a crime, against her and humanity.

I find any excuse I can to be near her and spend a lot of my time contemplating the best way to help her escape her invisible binds. I can’t stand seeing her made to live a cramped, miserable existence when I know she dreams of a better life. I’ve accepted that better life can’t be with me, but I can’t leave her be, either.

I can’t stand idly by while her kind heart is being abused, and her potential is going to waste — sexual or otherwise.

I’m a fucking sucker for the underdog. The guys would say it’s because I am one, but that makes it sound like I’m fighting for myself, when I know for a fact that I give way more fucks for others than I ever give about me. I have the criminal record to prove it. Not that anyone should have to spend time in jail for stealing a van-load of depressed rabbits from a cosmetics-testing laboratory for the purpose of treating their painful dermatitis. If the justice system doesn’t see what’s wrong with outright cruelty, then I’ll happily sit in a fucking cell to show my lack of faith in their shitty rules and values. Authority should be earned, not dictated, and shoddy leadership doesn’t inspire obedient followers.

Which is why it’s so fucking hard to walk away from a woman I respect, when she’s broken out of the box people have put her in, to behave in a way that’s so deliciously forward. She could demand almost anything from me right now, and I’d do it —and that’s fucking dangerous.

“Cady…”

What to say? What to do? She’s asking for salvation, when I’ll only bring destruction.

Unable to tear my gaze from her thick, creamy thighs, I feel heartbroken to know they’ve never seen the sun. It’s a travesty. Even for a precariously fair redhead like her. She should be allowed to feel warmth on her skin. A warmth not of her own making. She deserves to know she’s loved, by this world, and by someone in it.

And yet, if we were caught in the simple act of talking like this it could irreparably taint her name in a town she can’t leave. My touch would ruin her. She’d be forced to live more deeply into the shadows than she already has to. Who am I to curse her like that?

She’s so pure as she is. Bless her mom for raising a good girl before that mind-stealing horse-kick to the head left Cady’s father in the driver’s seat. While it’s hard to fault a man who wants to protect his daughter, somewhere along the way, what started out as protection turned into a need for control that fully impinged on Cady’s free-will. Now he uses her big heart against her like a weapon, and chained by love and guilt, she’d never abandon her family in a time of need. I get that’s why she’s asking for a secret life, so she can have a foot in both worlds without disappointing anyone, but she shouldn’t have to live that way. She shouldn’t have to feel like it’s selfish or too much to want happiness for herself.

“Please,” she says in a whisper that crushes my soul.

What kind of guardian angel would I be, if I left her miserable and alone when she’s begging for my help?

She gazes up at me, her lips slightly parted, letting out shallow breaths. She spreads her gorgeous thighs a little wider. Enough so her skirt’s fabric shifts, and the shadows beneath tease my imagination.

Do my eyes deceive me? Do those pale rose-colored panties actually have a nectar-induced streak of darkened pink down the centerline of the crotch, or is it only wishful thinking that she’s soaking her pretty, innocent underwear for me? God, that roseate line is so perfectly pussy-shaped.

I swallow roughly, gulping down the galloping urges within me. What’s the best action to take in this scenario? Do I save her from a renowned villain such as myself or break her out of the cage a goddess like her should never have been cornered into?

The right thing to do would be to yank that skirt back down to her toes and forbid her to ever tempt me again, but I can’t deny my ravenous desire to push it higher still, to bury my face in her scent and lick that damp mark on her panties until the cotton wears thin. I can almost taste her on my tongue, and it has my mouth watering.

Strength, Daryl. Stay strong. For her.

“Cady, I wish there was a man alive good enough to experience you in all your sweet glory, but I’m painfully aware that I’m not him. It’s actually causing me a disturbing amount of physical discomfort to keep from leaping over the desk and taking advantage of such a tempting offer.”

I swallow hard and adjust my aching cock, both loving and hating the way she’s staring at it. “I appreciate the offer. Believe me . But I come with a history that’ll taint your future, and I can’t do that to you. You deserve to live in peace and dignity.”

My sweet little librarian folds her arms, clearly unimpressed. “The fact that you can turn me down so articulately, is literally the reason I want you to bed me, Daryl. The other men in this town can barely string two words together if the conversation isn’t about breeding livestock or sowing seed for the next season.”

I try to keep calm, but inside, I’m a roaring bull raking at the earth. Is she using those words on purpose? Does she want me thinking about sowing my seed and breeding her? Because I really don’t need any fucking encouragement. Not a day goes by when I don’t fantasize about it. The amount of seed I’ve lost down the shower drain while thinking about her barefoot and pregnant could have had her impregnated a jumbo-jillion times over.

“I don’t care about your reputation,” she continues. “If anything, I’m probably way more curious than I should be about how you’d even make my ass take a dick the size of yours. I feel like it’ll be enough of a mission to stick it in the more conventional places, but that’s a challenge I’m willing and eager to conquer with you, so bring those boots — and the gorgeous man inside them — over here, and put that magnificent cock to use initiating me into the world of sex before I die of deprivation.”

I shake my head, fighting for control while I find the right words. “I’m not a guy any girl should cut her teeth on, Cady,” I say carefully.

“Did you just call me any girl ?” Her eyebrows draw down in the center. She pulls her legs closed and lowers her skirt. “And here was me thinking you’d actually read all those erotic books I subtly recommended. If you had, you’d understand that I have expectations about my pleasure being my lover’s priority. I want to feel acknowledged and worshipped and cared for, like I’m the most special woman in the world. Not treated like any girl .”

I release my held breath in an audible rush. “I did read them,” I rumble at her. “I loved every sordid, orgasmic fucking story you casually suggested to me as if they were of equal or greater value than classic literature.” I drop my head into my hands and growl with frustration. “I didn’t mean it like that — like you’re not the most special fucking woman on the whole damned planet. I meant that I’m an acquired taste with a bad rep, and I’m not good enough to be your first. No fucker is.”

God , it kills me to think of some other guy making her first time anything but perfect. Men can be so fucking inconsiderate. The absolutely selfish shit running through my mind right now is proof of that, because how fucking perfect would she look, bent over that cute little desk of hers?

“So, I should stay a virgin forever, then?” She cinches her folded arms more tightly over her chest and glares at me. “I’m not allowed to do anything but look after my mom every day except for the three hours I get to escape here, to be the caretaker of this shitty old building full of dusty, outdated books that are wasted on ninety percent of this town’s population? I have to stay here, trapped into servitude for a woman who doesn’t know who I am, by a man who refuses to let me grow up or live a life he hasn’t molded or pre-approved. Is that it? I should be grateful to have this much freedom? It’s inconvenient and unladylike to complain about the absence of hope, fun, love, or a life worth living, right? Great. Thanks for clarifying. Sorry I mistook you for someone who’d give a shit and help me — or at least be horny and reckless enough to take advantage of free access to some low-hanging forbidden fruit. My bad. You can leave now. Judging by my current level of humiliation, you’re clearly not as committed to preserving my dignity as you claim.” She pulls herself back to sit at the desk properly and stacks the books next to her, audibly slamming one on top of the other.

My heart is dented by her pain and loneliness, but my ego is shattered that she’d believe me such a hound dog. Horny and reckless? “You thought I’d take advantage of you?” I growl. “Where the fuck did you get the idea I was that kind of predatory asshole?” I stare at her, and she stares right back, not budging an inch toward retracting her words.

I fucking love it when she’s hard-assed and sassy. It ignites a spark within my core that’s just begging to explode out of my cock. I grit my teeth to keep from smiling and square my shoulders to come across all staunch and intimidating when I drive a firm finger toward the floor, to make my point appear more solid. “I work my ass off to be a fucking gentleman, Cadence Malone,” I argue. “Especially around you.”

She gives a half shrug and looks out the window. “A true gentleman wouldn’t have to work hard to behave, Daryl. It’d be innate.”

My breath grunts out of me, and I deflate faster than a punctured tire on an overloaded truck. “Touché.” She’s so fucking smart, and she doesn’t ever let me forget it. The age difference never seems to matter between us when we talk, and it’s one of the many reasons I adore her.

She returns her attention to me and snorts softly. “If it makes you feel any better, I’ve never wanted you to be a gentleman. If anything, I hoped with all my might that you weren’t. I know an honorable man would refuse to do what I’m asking.” She shrugs again and looks down at her hands resting stoically in her lap. “It’s fine. Commendable, even. I know you’re a good man, and I was wrong to put you in a position to go against your values. It’s just hard to be me sometimes, you know?”

“I’ve imagined,” I admit quietly.

“You… Well, that’s just great.” Her tone is exasperated, and her eyes are pinched. “I thought you liked me, but the truth is, you feel sorry for me. Is that why you come and see me every day? Out of fucking pity ?”

I shake my head and try to regain my bearings. I don’t think I’ve ever heard Cadence Malone swear like that before. It’s both disorienting and exciting. She can be so repressed, and this whole conversation has thrown me into a spin. What’s come over her today? Because I’m fucking loving it, but it feels wildly unwise to let myself enjoy her so much. “I don’t pity you. I come… to check on you.”

Cady narrows her gaze at me. “Check on me for what?”

The nerves in my belly begin to tangle, and I shrug. “To make sure you’re still smiling. That your spirit hasn’t been broken.”

She sits quietly and watches me for what feels like far too long when her guarded expression is giving me no clues as to her thoughts.

After a time, she lifts her chin. “For what purpose would you need my spirit unbroken, if you have no intention of benefiting from it, Daryl Winters?”

I draw my brows down hard. “You think because I won’t fuck you, that you mean nothing to me? I come every day to make sure you smile, but I’d be lying if I said I did it out of charity. Seeing your gorgeous fucking face light up is what gets me through my day. You think I like living in this shitty town any more than you do?”

She scrunches her face into the cutest, pursed, lemon-sucking expression and pushes to her feet. She leans over her desk, grips the edge, and growls at me. And she’s so passionate in her affront, her knuckles have bleached white with ferocity. “You’re a successful, single, grown-ass man with every ability to leave, Daryl. If you hate Beaumont City so damn much, why the fuck do you live here?”

I grasp at the air in front of me. “Because you do.”

She releases her death grip on the desk and straightens. All aggression leaves her face as she pales. She stands very still, devoid of expression, except for the tiny flicker of fire that remains in her eyes. “What did you say?” she whispers, before shaking her head. “No. I heard it. I’m just not sure I understood it. Tell me what it meant .”

I close my eyes and release a quiet groan. It’s time. I get the feeling this conversation may be the last we have if I leave her hanging now. Breathe . Relax. Be honest . Be yourself. Accept the result .

I open my eyes and zero-in on hers. “It means that I’m madly in love with a beautiful girl I can’t ever have. But I’d rather come here and torture myself daily than never see her again.”

“You… love me?” she asks, her voice pitched high in disbelief. “ Madly? ”

“And truly. And deeply.” I dip my head lower and try not to feel like a shy, vulnerable kid. “It’s hard not to, despite what your father may have you believing. He’s scared to lose you, so he does all he can to keep your sparkle small and invisible and safely under control, but your light is brighter than anything he could hope to dim. Cady, I see you. Your heart is too big to miss, and that’s probably why he works so hard to keep you protected. You’re worth it.”

“Since when?” The words seem to choke out of her. “How long have you known this… this information? Felt this… love?”

I fill my lungs, hold it a moment, and then release the breath slowly and surely. There’s no point holding back now. If she wants me to confess my feelings, so I may as well share them all. She chose this day to change the dynamic between us, and I’m going to trust her lead, because I should not be at the helm of this relationship. If I was, she’d be barefoot, pregnant, and screaming her pleasure for the whole town to hear — which would only result in me being dragged to the local jail cell under bogus charges her dad dreamed up. He’s clearly got the locals on his side, so I imagine my wrongful incarceration would likely precede an old-fashioned lynching by an army of torch-and-pitchfork-toting townsfolk, since that’d be the only way to keep me from ever seeing her again.

So. Cady’s in charge. She wants answers, and — gods help me — I’ll give this woman whatever she wants.

“I became fully aware of my feelings about two summers ago,” I admit, too scared to meet her eyes in case she thinks that’s a bad answer. “I saw you down at the pond hunting for tadpoles with the preschoolers. It was a hot day, so you’d unbuttoned your high-necked blouse a little. You were sharing your wisdom in a fun and cheeky, easy-to-learn way, and I have never wanted to know more about the life cycle of frogs than I did right then. Your cheeks were flushed, your smile was glowing, and even the kids couldn’t take their eyes off you. They were hooked on every word, and so was I. I wish I’d had someone like you around when I was little. I mean… that sounded stupid. It’s just… kids love it when an adult is willing to interact on their level, but you could tell they knew it was a magical event to have the town princess splashing around knee-deep in the water with them.”

I bravely lift my gaze to meet hers. “The size of your heart is obvious at any distance, Cady. You operate in this world from a place of pure love, and it’s an absolute blessing to be anywhere near you. I remember sitting across the pond and thinking that you were everything I could ever want in a woman. What I felt was so much more than a physical attraction, and I’d never had that before. You… you shine like the sun, and it’s a constant struggle to tear myself away before my dark clouds get set upon you. You’re perfection on every level. In that moment, I knew you were so much more than sexy, but my god, did I love seeing your long skirt tucked up in your underwear so it wouldn’t get wet, mud clinging to your calves…”

“ Two years? ” She flops back into her chair and emits a slow wheezing sound before she speaks. “Two whole years and you’ve done diddly-squat about it?” She’s almost moaning now. “You’re literally never going to act on it, are you? You’re the only one who sees me as anything other than Daddy’s little girl, but I’m still going to die as that shell of a woman they all believe I am.”

Her voice has softened into the barest whisper, but after having seen her all feisty and self-assured, I’m desperate to hear her confidence again. She was a woman on a mission when I came in here.

For whatever reason, she chose today to express her sharp observations with her even sharper tongue. She well and truly called my bluff, because of course I don’t come in here to read outdated books about shit that means nothing to me. She’s known as Beaumont City’s golden angel of chastity, but I know the real Cadence Malone is a woman of intoxicating sensuality — if she could only express it beyond a flash of her eyes or the pout of her lips or the way she chooses to recommend erotic e-books that speak to me about her deepest desires.

The way her eyes see right into my soul and her words slice through all the bullshit? I love it. Whenever I see her shrink into helpless victim mode, I want to do things to her that bring her back to the edge of aggression. If we were naked, I’d have her edged so beautifully, she’d be screaming at me, demanding the release she needs. Fenced in by the role she’s been given, she never seems to argue or stand up for herself or ask for anything selfish from anyone. I want her to speak up and demand what she wants?—

Like she has with me.

I groan inwardly. She’s literally telling me what she wants. And I’m telling her she can’t have it? Who am I to deny such bravery?

I take a step toward her, and her eyes light up.

“You’re not getting my dick,” I warn, before yanking her to her feet and pulling toward the bookshelves that’ll give us some cover if anyone comes in the door. But in my mind, I whisper, “ Yet .”