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.”
5
CADENCE
“Ever?” I ask, trying to get a better look at his face as he pulls me behind the nearest shelf of books. My heart is beating so fast and loud in my ears, I’m not sure what he means. “What do you mean you won’t give me your dick?” I sputter. “I want your cock, Daryl.”
He swears under his breath, spins back to face me, and pins me against the shelf so firmly it wobbles. Without even flinching, he steadies it with his hand and leans in so close, we’re sharing the same breath.
“Not today. Not like this.”
The statement is both hot and cold, but I only want hot. “Why n?—”
“We need time,” he says, cutting me off. “You’re new to this, and I don’t want to rush it. I need to earn your trust, and you need to think about your birth control options, because I’m not having anything between us when we come together. It’s going to be pure sensation and love, and I want to feel everything.” His eyes search mine, and he must see how much I want him, because he doubles down on the deprivation. “We’ve waited this long, Cady. You can wait a little longer.”
His body feels so big and warm and strong against mine, and it’s making it difficult to think about anything else. He has his hand on my hip, and he’s holding me close enough to feel the hard bulge of his cock pressing against my belly. To be captured by him like this is making me lightheaded. And hungry for more with an urgency I don’t want to contain. “But?—”
“Don’t you dare beg me to rush this.” Still holding the bookshelf, he slowly slides his other hand up my side.
His touch is gentle. A smooth, languid caress. Perfectly measured, it’s delivered in a way that declares my body is precious. Aheavenly tease I’m forced to experience through my clothing when I’d give anything to feel those fingers dragging along my skin.
The pad of his thumb brushes over my taut nipple, and he smiles at the soft gasp that escapes my lips. “I’ve been dreaming of this for a long time, Cady.”
I nod. “Two years. I know.”
He shakes his head. “Longer.”
Surprised, I quirk my eyebrows. His smile widens.
“I said two summers ago was when I becamefullyaware I was in love with you,” he clarifies. “But I have wanted to touch you and hear your pretty moans since the first week I arrived in town.”
I squint at him. “Huh?”
“The only person ever identified asrealanddecentby Beaumont City’s notoriously eccentric battle-ax, PattyMad-dogMacArthur, was never going to escape my attention for long, Cady” he says, studying my face with intense interest as he talks about his great aunt, who passed a while back. “She told me you helped her get a box of candy from the upper shelf at the grocer’s once, and that you absolutely knew she was going to steal it when she stuffed it down the side of her wheelchair, but youdidn’t say anything. You just left money for it at the counter and went on your way.”
My cheeks warm, and I shrug. “I figured she needed candy. She was so private and reclusive, that to see her in the store was a big deal, so it seemed really important for her to have it. She may have been the only person in town people knew nothing about, and that makes her a fucking hero in my book, so of course I had her back. And contrary to what everyone used to say, I think she was kind of sweet.” I smile to myself, when I think about the renowned hoarder who’d bark at anyone who tried to enter her house. “She was sassy and unorthodox, and her town-given nickname wasMaddog. She was definitely my favorite badass before you turned up. Not that I got to meet you properly for a long while.”
Daryl’s eyes shine at me as he smiles. “I was kept too busy sorting out the damned hoarder house after her doctor rang and told me shecouldn’t quite manage anymore,” he says, using air quotes. “I didn’t know her too well before I came, but I was listed as her next of kin, and there was nobody else they could call. I agreed to come stay for a week and sort out what kind of care she needed.”
“Aweek?” I ask, almost scoffing. “You’ve been here four years. AndMaddog MacArthurhas been gone nearly as long.”
His cheeks bloom with color, and he nods again. “It was pretty clear when I turned up to Aunt Patty’s, that one of us was going to leave town soon, and it wasn’t me,” he says quietly. “I wanted to throw a lit match on her house and take her to live with me in the city, but she wasn’t having any of it. Luckily for her, I’m a fucking pushover for chicks with sass regardless of how old they are. I didn’t expect to be turning up to see her passing, but I was in the fortunate position of being able to stay and make sure she was comfortable for what turned out to be her final few days. And then I had to stay to spendthe subsequent months following the very explicit instructions she left regarding her treasures. I was pissed her doctor hadn’t contacted me sooner, though — or made it more clear before I arrived to discover just how tragic the state of her health and her house were, when it should have been glaringly obvious to him. If the excessive spaghetti stains on every fucking one of her shirts didn’t give it away…”
“Which explains your first Beaumont City red flag event with the police down at the clinic.” I wrinkle my nose in a slow wince. “That’s when I got my first warning from Dad to steer clear of the new, unsavory character in town.”
Daryl presses his lips together and lifts his eyes to the top of my head. His fingers lightly stroke a wisp of my hair. He tucks it behind my ear, and I shiver with delight at the natural intimacy of his actions. It’s as if I’m his to touch. As if I’ve always been his.
His lips curl a fraction at the corner on one side, and he shakes his head a little. “I barely raised my voice at Dr. Peebles, and nobody can prove I had anything to do with him leaving town,” he says calmly. “I have no regrets about my actions. He needed to know he was a negligent piece of shit, and I had a problem with his behavior that he needed time away to learn to fix. Vulnerable people deserved better.”
“Okay,” I say in a whisper. His passion is a little overwhelming, and not in a bad way. I’m not even remotely concerned about what he may have done to slimy Dr. Peebles, who told me I was being dramatic when I went to him as an anxious and depressed teen. If anything, my panties are more soaked than they were before I heard Daryl’s side of the story.
He grazes his thumb over my lower lip. “The new doctor is nicer, don’t you think?”
“Uh-huh,” I utter breathlessly. He’s going to kiss me. I can feel it. My body is tingling all over in anticipation. Everyromance novel or movie makes a big deal out of the first kiss, and I’m so damn ready for mine.
He leans in and gently presses the side of his nose against my cheek. The connection isn’t the kiss I was expecting, but it’s oddly sweet and comforting when our foreheads press together. The way he lingers and sort of intensifies the pressure gives me the impression he’s working hard to restrain himself, which makes my heart beat even faster. I let my eyes flutter closed and tilt my face up, waiting for the kiss that doesn’t come. He does the nose thing again, meeting mine in a sort of nuzzling slide — like we’re horses and he’s showing his horse-y affection or something. What the fuck is that? And why is it making me feel so fucking needy?
