Icame 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 invisiblebinds. 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. Mytouch 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 ortoo muchto 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 denymy 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 eagerto 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 meany 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 likeany girl.”
I release my held breath in an audible rush. “Ididread 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 havethismuch 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.
