Hothouse Flower (27 page)

“What?” Lily says, gaping. “Lo, that never happened.”

Lo looks up at her and his gaze immediately softens. “I
know, Lil.” He doesn’t even hesitate. Doesn’t question her or think otherwise.
There’s complete loyalty between them. But it doesn’t break the pain that they
share between their gazes. They’re both being dragged through this.

“Throw it in,” Rose says quietly.

He does it. And I watch it burn, right along with my
thoughts.

I don’t know what or who to believe anymore.

Everything’s just dark.

< 40 >

RYKE MEADOWS

I am alone with Daisy. In a tent.

“I’m not surprised,” Daisy whispers. I attached a flashlight
at the top of the three-person tent and it dangles like a lamp. I can see all
of her as she sits cross-legged. I lie on my back, watching her twist her hair
into a bun. “Rose thought the shadows were bugs, and she rolled on top of Lily,
she was so grossed out.” Daisy smiles at the image. “She’s never been camping.”

“Really? I hadn’t fucking noticed,” I say. Rose was the
first to ditch the all-girls tent. She unzipped the one I was in, bracing an
axe in her hand like she was ready to murder all of us. I think the thought
seriously crossed my brother’s mind.

But Connor reached out for her, and she melted, like a feral
cat turned into a soft kitten. Before I left, his arms were wrapped around her,
and she seemed content. Lily showed up next, too frightened to be alone with
just Daisy in the all-girls tent. In
Lo’s
words, Rose
could scare off a “wildebeest” and without her, Lily decided to seek comfort
with her boyfriend.

Which left Daisy all by herself.

And it gave me a necessary excuse to sleep in her tent. No
one really wanted her to be alone in the middle of the woods. Not even my
brother.

“Lie down,” I tell Daisy. I can tell she’s having trouble
sleeping. She doesn’t want to take Ambien tonight, and I can’t push her to take
that pill anymore. The side effects are too intense. There has to be another
way to combat her insomnia.

Instead of lying down, she straddles my waist. She’s wearing
my track sweatpants that are baggy on her legs. I fucking love her in my clothes.
“I can’t sleep,” she says.

“It’s two in the morning,” I whisper, sitting up fully. I’m
taller than her in this position. Being this close to her, my chest an inch
from hers, strains the air and stiffens my muscles. “Have you ever imagined me
fucking you?” Curiosity compels me to the question. My fingers glide along her
bare hips, underneath my Penn shirt that she wears.

Her breathing shallows, probably wondering if tonight will
be
the
night. “Yes.”

“When?” I prod. I pull the T-shirt over her head, leaving
her topless, her nipples already erect. It’s over for me. I harden in a fucking
instant and a large breath catches in the back of her throat as she feels me
underneath her.

“A bunch of times,” she says in a whisper, the air tensing.
She tugs on my shirt, wanting me bare as much as she is. I help her pull it
over my head, and then she starts to trace the outline of my tattoo with her
fingers. “By myself. But usually…” She pauses, her green eyes flitting up to
mine. “When I was with other guys. I thought it’d help.”

She thought about me when she was screwing other guys.

Not just masturbating to the idea of me.

I just want to fuck
you harder.

My surprise sits beneath an intense arousal that literally
forces my body to hers. I grab the back of her head. She grabs mine, and I kiss
her hard and urgently. I think about every night I spent in her bed. The
restraint. Every time I pictured Daisy underneath my body, my muscles cloaking
her in safety and so much fucking power. Driving into her. Releasing.
Fuck.
I need inside of her.

Our lips and hands and bodies connect like a bomb goes off
between us, nerves screaming, lungs barely fucking breathing.

I move roughly with her and she moves wildly with me.

Our legs tangle together, and her hands roam my abs with
eagerness, settling on my back, gripping my flesh while my weight bears down on
her. She cries out as I grind into her.
Fuck…
I want to hear her again, but I have to stifle her noises. So I cover her
mouth with my palm, and I keep grinding against her, my cock throbbing.
Push into her.

Not yet.

She mumbles against my hand, trying to speak while I slide
the track pants off her long legs. I remove my hand and shed down to my boxer-briefs.

“Push into me,” she whispers, her lips swollen from our
embrace, her breathing ragged. The flashlight swings above us. We must have
knocked into it, and neither of us attempts to turn it off. I want to see all
of her, every reaction and every limb.

Instead of outright answering her, I undress Daisy, slipping
off her panties and shirt. We kiss again, just hammered with these intense
feelings. She rolls her hips against me, and I slam my weight back into her.
She cries out, and I grip her hair.

She lies on her back, her shallow breaths slicing the
silence. Her eyes pin on my dick, and I can tell she’s imagining every inch of
me inside of her.

“Please,” she breathes.

I comb my fingers through her hair and then hold her face in
my large hard. She’s small beneath me, fragile. Even if she thinks she’s
experienced, she’s not experienced with me. Not yet, at least. I kiss her while
my other hand descends to her clit. She bucks her hips up to meet me as my
fingers move up and down and then circular.

She writhes beneath me, her nails clawing into my back. Just
as her lips part, I slide my hand over her mouth, her hot breath heating my
palm.

I scan her from head to toe, the way she unravels in
pleasure, the way her legs spasm, and her body arches towards me, her hips
thrusting to try and find a pressure that I have yet to give her. Watching
Daisy come is like watching a person discover a new world, seeing fireworks for
the first time, lit up and awed. Knowing I helped her achieve it—I fucking ache
to be closer, to fill her with happiness and me.

Her toes curl and her fingers press deep into my back, her
head tilted, my hand enveloping her face to muffle the cry.

I sit up and let her catch her breath, which is all over the
fucking place.

She watches me, but my dark gaze lets little through besides
I want you. You’re so fucking beautiful.
She
quickly matches my position, sitting, and I spread her legs wider around me.

Her mouth starts to descend towards my cock, and I lift her
chin up quickly and kiss her. I move on impulse—what feels right. And my
fingers slip inside of her. She’s so fucking wet. She climaxes within a couple
minutes, and I take them out and grip the base of my cock.

Daisy inhales sharply, realizing what’s about to happen. She
edges closer to me, holds the back of my neck with both hands, and rests her
forehead on my chest. She likes the visual, and I’ll gladly give her one.

I brush her hair away from her ear and whisper, “Ready to
have all of me, Dais?”

She answers by running her hands through my hair near my
neck. I smile, and I slowly slide into her. She clenches around me, and my
mouth opens. I force a fucking groan to stay in the back of my throat. My
muscles cut into hard lines, and I hold the back of her head to my chest.

I can’t imagine a more intimate way to fill Daisy, with her
on my lap as I sit up, clung to my chest, giving me possession of her body and
heart.

She’s swollen around my erection, soaked and so much tighter
than I anticipated or expected. Underneath these nerve-splitting sensations,
I’m acutely aware of how much she can take of me. She gasps, learning how to
keep her voice hushed, and I stop midway from fitting into her completely.

“
Ryke
,” she cries.

“
Shh
,” I coo. She rocks her hips,
attempting to put all of me inside of her. My hand falls from her head to her
hip. I steady her, and then I push in further.
Fuck.
My eyes shut as the pressure overwhelms me. I haven’t even
started moving in her yet.

I grip her ass while she stares at the way my long cock
disappears between her legs. She breathes short, choppy fucking breaths, and
when she’s engrained the image, I tilt her back against the dark green sleeping
bag.

My hand slides from her knee to her thigh, and I begin to
thrust with slow, deep strokes, milking every fucking movement. I want each one
to last for eternity, no rushing, no speeding up this cliff. My ass tightens as
I push forward, and I kiss her, combing her damp blonde hair away from her
forehead.

I’m inside the girl who has begged for this type of pleasure
for years.

And I’m the one finally giving it to her, showing her that
sex can be so fucking good.

Fucking Christ, I’ve
wanted this for so fucking long.

“
Ryke
,” she starts saying. So much
that I have to put my hand over her mouth again. She rocks her hips upwards
each time I thrust down, creating friction and extra depth that blinds me with
adrenaline. I rest my forearm beside her head, my six-foot-three body hovering
over her small frame.

Her eyes fix on mine as I thrust, my pace increasing by a
notch. Her hips can’t keep up with me. Her legs hook around my waist. She’s
limber enough that I bring one of her legs over my shoulder while my chest is
close to hers.

She moans into my palm, and I restrain from coming right
there. I hold back, grunting and pushing.
Fuck.
I don’t feel her breathing, and her eyes flutter.

“Breathe through your nose,” I say roughly, instinctively
quickening each thrust. I don’t want her to fucking pass out.

She finally exhales, and her gaze returns to mine. I slow
for a second, but I can tell she’s nearing the end. Her whole body is tense
beneath me; her eyes threaten to roll back at any moment. I pound into her in
fast spurts, a thin sheen of sweat coating my skin.
Fuck.

Fuck.

She’s so tight.

I can’t slow down, even if I wanted to.

My parted lips touch her forehead, and I move until her body
lifts against mine, until her head tilts back and her eyes close. Her moans
breach my hand, but they’re soft cries that only I can possibly hear. And
they’re so fucking beautiful.

I grunt as I force myself not to come yet. I take my hand
off, and I lift her from underneath her arms.

“
Ryke
,” she says, her tense
muscles all softened and melted after that climax. Her eyes fall to my
erection, and she frowns.

“Catch your breath fast, sweetheart.” I spin her on my lap,
her back against my chest, and I grip my cock, sliding into her easily. She
gasps as she has the best visual of me moving up and down inside of her.

I suck her neck, lifting my pelvis up into her in a deep,
pulsing rhythm. I knead her breast, my finger flicking over her hardened
nipple.

She leans back against me and clenches my hair, letting me
fuck her how she deserves to be fucked. With attention and so much love. Long
minutes pass, and I know I could build her up for hours. I could make her come
until exhaustion shuts her eyes, but I want her to be coherent afterwards. As
she clenches around my cock, I focus on her body in my grasp, me deep inside of
her, and her shallow noises.

I push upwards hard, and I come with her, white lights
flashing in my vision, my head fucking spinning. I exhale a couple times before
I slide out of her. I gently lean her against the sleeping bag, and I lie next
to Daisy, my body at peace with hers. The flashlight swings above us like a
pendulum.

Fucking finally.

Nothing has ever compared to that.

She kisses me, before I can say anything. I smile and kiss
her back. Then I cup her face, my legs magnetically finding her smooth ones,
tangled once again. “Better than chocolate?” I whisper.

She breathes like I took her on a marathon, not a sprint.
“You’re in another league.”

I skim her cheek with my fingers. “Yeah?” I smile. “You’ve
finally found the league you’re supposed to be playing in, Dais.”

“I like it here,” she whispers. “The
better than chocolate
league.” She wraps her arms around me, and I
press my lips to her head. “How long do you think this’ll last?” Her voice
turns serious, fear creeping in. Now that we’ve slept together, we could lose
so much more if someone pulls us apart.

“As long as we want it to,” I tell her. “I’d fucking fight
for you, Dais. You just have to let me.” She can’t be worried about hurt
feelings. We’re going to upset people eventually, but if they love us, if they
want us to be happy, they’ll accept this.

“Even your brother?” she whispers, her eyes closing as she
dozes off.

“Even him,” I breathe, watching her begin to fall asleep.
How long it’ll last, I’m not sure. I sit up and turn off the flashlight. I zip
open one flap that faces the woods, the moon bathing our tent in a serene glow.
I lie back, not closing my eyes. She eases into a peaceful slumber.

And I stay up and recount what I have with her and how much
more I want.

One day can change everything.

So I keep hope that one day we’ll finally be there.

* * *

An hour must pass before she wakes up, unable to
sleep. She notices that I’m already awake, and she rolls onto my body and
traces the outline of my tattoo again, grazing her finger over the dark ink. I
hear the faint sound of crickets outside our tent.

Her finger trails the inked chain on my side that’s bound
around the feet of a phoenix.

“Am I the anchor?” she asks, skimming the tattoo on my
waist.

My eyes darken. “Why would you think that?”

“You never told me what the tattoo meant when you got it.”

She was with me almost every time I went to the tattoo
parlor to have more of the design filled in. She asked only a couple times what
it meant. I would give her a look, and she’d drop it. I didn’t think she’d draw
this conclusion. Not back then, and definitely not now.

“I’ve weighed you down the past couple of years,” she
elaborates off my dark gaze. “I just thought—”

“I’m the fucking anchor,” I tell her suddenly.

“What?” Her brows furrow.