In Safe Hands (26 page)

Someone was in the house. It was too dark to see,
but Daisy could feel the staring eyes, hear the raspy breathing. Her shaking hand reached for the bedroom lamp, and she turned the switch, but nothing happened. The room stayed draped in blackness. Sliding out of bed, the floor cold against her bare feet, she crept toward the door. The shadows moved, shifting into menacing shapes. She had to get downstairs, but the doorway kept sliding farther away, as if the house was taunting her, trapping her. When she tried to run, it felt like she was moving in slow motion. He was going to catch her, hurt her. She needed to get away, but she couldn't. She couldn't stay, couldn't leave, couldn't run, couldn't scream—

“Daisy!”

Her eyes popped open, and she sat up abruptly. Chris jerked out of the way, barely avoiding a clash of foreheads. It took a moment to adjust to reality, but then the familiar shapes of her bedroom stood out in the gray dawn light. Her first breath hurt her throat, before her breathing slowed, as did her heart rate.

“Chris? What are you doing in here?” He was sitting on her bed again, almost exactly where he'd been when she fell asleep. If not for his crazy bed head and the fact that he was wearing fewer clothes than he had been earlier, she would've thought he'd been sitting there the whole time.

“I heard you.” He pushed some stray strands of hair out of her face. “I figured you were having a nightmare. Your mom?”

“No.” She blinked. “No. It wasn't my mom. Wow. This is the first nightmare I've had in years that wasn't about her.”

“What was it about?” His hand brushed her hair again, but she didn't think he was dealing with unruly strands anymore. Instead, it was almost like he was stroking her.

“Someone was in the house.” When he lifted his eyebrows, she shook her head, starting to smile. “Not you. Someone…scary. I wasn't screaming, was I?”

“No. It was more like whimpering.”

When she eyed his face and saw no signs of teasing, she groaned in embarrassment. Falling back so her head hit the pillows, she pulled the covers over her face. Despite the muffling effects of the blankets, she heard him laugh as he tugged them from her grip.

“Shove over,” he ordered. “It's only been an hour since everyone left. That's not enough rest to keep from going insane from sleep deprivation.”

Too startled to protest, she scooted to the side as he slid into bed with her. Even with a few inches between them, she felt his warmth, and it was tempting to curl into his side and use him as an oversized heating pad.

“What are you doing?” she finally organized her half-awake and scattered thoughts enough to ask.

“Trying to sleep,” he grumped. “If I'm here, maybe you won't wake me up with your sad little noises.”

“Sad little…” She poked him in the side, hard. “Soon you'll be the one whimpering.” She jabbed him again. Laughing, he caught her hand.

“I don't whimper,” he said, making her even more determined to reduce him to tears. He reversed the assault, though, finding all her ticklish spots and showing no mercy, even as she shrieked with laughter. He rolled her beneath him, holding her down with his body weight as his fingers dug into the sensitive places on her sides.

“Okay,” she panted, an occasional hitch of leftover giggles interrupting her words. “You win. No more. I give up.” Obviously, she wasn't going to win in a tickle fight with Chris. She vowed to find his weakness eventually, though, and fully exploit it.

Although she'd expected triumphant crowing from Chris, he'd gone serious. His breath was coming fast—she could see his chest move—and his expression was intent. The look in his eyes made her heartbeat speed up from something other than exertion, even before his gaze dropped to her lips.

He lowered his head slowly, checking her expression every few seconds, as if expecting her to protest. All she could manage to do was lie still and wait for his mouth to descend to hers. For a second, she wondered if her dream had just shifted topics, since she'd never truly believed her relationship with Chris would reach this point.

When his lips touched hers, however, she knew she was awake. It was too intense, too incredible, too
real
for something created by her imagination. Even though he kept the contact light, the sensations radiating from her mouth made her dizzy. She slid her fingers into his hair. That way, she could play with the silky strands while also making sure his lips didn't leave hers.

The kiss got a little deeper, a little harder, and Daisy discovered that his hair was just long enough to grab. From his heavy breathing, she was pretty sure he didn't mind the light tugs on his scalp. It had been a long time since she'd been kissed, since the fumbling experiments in high school, but she didn't worry about her technique. Her brain was completely occupied with feeling, so there was no room to think.

When he nipped on her bottom lip, she sucked in a quick breath. Chris took advantage of her parted lips, invading her mouth with his tongue, and she groaned. As if that sound was a trigger, he went wild. Rolling them so they were on their sides, he freed his hands to roam—and roam they did. Despite being distracted by his lips and teeth making their way down the side of her throat, Daisy was intensely aware of the placement of those hands.

With her head tilted back to give his mouth access to her neck, she moaned as both of his palms slid under the hem of her tank top. That motion gave her hands the green light to explore, and she slid them over the back of his head and down his neck. His bare back was hot beneath her touch. She was fascinated by the shifting of his muscles under his skin.

She stroked his shoulder blades, making him shiver as he nipped right above her collarbone. Jerking in his hold, she unintentionally dug her short nails into his back, and he made a hungry noise in response. Surprised by his reaction, she curled her fingers again, and he made the same sound. Daisy smiled, liking that she could drive him just as crazy as he'd been making her for
years
.

His head rose, and her happy expression changed to a frown. “Why are you stopping?” She cringed at the slight whine in her voice, but it couldn't be over so soon. She'd waited such a long time for Chris to make a move, and they'd barely started kissing. Daisy wanted more time—much more. Even if her issues meant they would never have a future together, she at least wanted the present.

“You okay?” His voice was hoarse and breathless, his pupils dilated more than the dim room required.

“Not if we're stopping,” she said.

He laughed, just a short huff. “You're sure you want this?”

“Yes. Now quit trying to talk it to death and get back down here.” Both of her hands returned to his head so she could pull his mouth down to hers. His chuckle was cut off abruptly, but she still felt it against her lips. Then the intensity returned, and neither of them were laughing.

He pulled back, attempting to peel her tank top over her head. Once she figured out what he was trying to do, she quit chasing his lips and pushed up to a sitting position. His expression turned wary, as if he thought she might be pulling away, but he relaxed when she grabbed her bottom hem and yanked it up and off.

Chris made another one of his wordless sounds. “You're beautiful.”

The cool air hitting her skin made her realize how exposed she was, sitting in just her panties, but the feeling was short-lived. Chris grabbed her, pulling her over him as he turned onto his back so their bare chests were pressed together. It felt like an electric shock when their skin connected, only without the pain.

Daisy sucked in a breath, her eyes closing as she absorbed the unfamiliar sensation.

“Okay?” Chris asked, and she nodded, her eyes still shut.

“Mm.”

“Is that a good ‘mm' or a bad ‘mm'?” Although he still sounded breathless, there was a thread of humor running through his words.

Opening her eyes, she lifted off him enough to glare. “Well, it
was
a good ‘mm' until you got the giggles.”

“I don't
giggle
.” He sounded quite offended, which, contrarily enough, made Daisy want to laugh. She kept her expression serious with an effort.

“Or whimper.”

“Exactly.” His eyes narrowed in a way that made her shiver. “Were you planning on talking some more, or can I kiss you again?”

She made the motion of zipping her lips. With a growl, he lunged up to meet her mouth, pulling her head down at the same time. Flipping her onto her back, he straddled her with his knees on either side of her hips. His hands stroked over her shoulders and cupped her breasts. The heat that ran through her almost brought her off the mattress.

His mouth followed his hands, and that was even better. As he kissed and nipped over the sensitive skin of her belly, his fingers hooked into the sides of her panties. He skimmed them down her legs and off, and Daisy tensed when she realized she was completely naked.

“Wait…” she started, but then his fingers and his mouth landed between her legs. “Oh! I changed my mind. Don't wait! Please, don't wait.”

The vibration of his chuckles against her made her squirm and clutch handfuls of his hair again. As the tension built, she tugged harder. A tiny part of her worried that she was hurting him, but she was too caught up in the new and crazily intense pleasure to let go.

“Am I—oh!” She jolted at an especially electric touch of his tongue.

He lifted his head just enough to ask, “Are you…what?”

As his breath blew against her most sensitive spot, she forgot for a moment what she was about to say. “Am I pulling too—mm, that's nice—hard?”

The feel of his husky laughter almost made her levitate. “No.” His teeth lightly scored her inner thigh, and she sucked in an audible breath. “It's making me hot.”

She liked that, liked that she was doing something to turn him on. It was wonderful being on the receiving end of his ministrations, but she wanted to give, too. Knowing that he was just as excited added to her pleasure, and soon she was lost again to sensation.

Chris seemed to know exactly what to do, where and how to touch her in the best way. Pressure built inside her as her blood rushed faster and her skin heated. She couldn't keep still, but twisted and writhed underneath him, tugging at his hair. Her body bowed upward as she came, pleasure surging through her until it was her entire world. Eventually, she collapsed back onto the bed in a boneless heap.

Her fingers ached as she released his hair, petting the strands in remorse. “Sorry I pulled your hair so hard.” Even to her own ears, she sounded a little drunk.

He crawled to lie next to her, propping himself up on an elbow. To her relief, he was smiling. “I told you it didn't hurt.” Leaning down, he kissed the corner of her mouth. “I liked it.”

“You're weird.” She smiled back. As her body recovered, she expected Chris to start kissing and touching her again, but he just played with a strand of her hair and occasionally kissed odd places, like the bridge of her nose or her chin. When she shivered, he went hunting for the covers that had gotten tossed aside in the excitement and pulled them over both of them.

Turning onto her side, Daisy looked at him, a little confused. “Um…is that it?”

His grin was devilish. “What's wrong? Did I leave you unsatisfied?” The last word was almost a purr, and it made her clench her thighs together.

“No.
I
'
m
very satisfied.” Her glance darted to approximately midway down his covered body. “But you weren't.”

That time, his kiss glanced off her ear. “I'm fine. Next time, I'll come prepared.”

“Prepared?” It took her a few seconds before she figured it out, which made her feel a little slow. “Oh! Right. Sorry. I'm not prepared either.”

He grinned. “Yeah, I didn't expect you'd be.”

For some reason, his assumption annoyed her a little. “Don't worry about it, though. I'll add it to the grocery list I send to Tyler.”

It was gratifying how wide Chris's eyes went. “What? No, don't do that. I'll just bring them next time.”

“That's okay.” She bit the inside of her lip to keep from smiling. “It'll be good to have a supply around. I mean, what if I do have an at-home date with Fireman Steve? He sounds like a nice guy. It's probably good to have a stash, just in ca—”

His mouth came down roughly, cutting off the rest of her words. Daisy didn't mind being interrupted.

“Just to be clear,” he said when he finally lifted his head, his voice an odd mix of hoarse and stern, “we're dating. As in,
exclusively
dating. So, no Fireman Steve.”

She smiled, cupping his face with one hand, just because she could, because they were
dating
. Finally. “No Fireman Steve.”

“Good.” He settled onto his back next to her.

After a few minutes of silence, she asked, “Why now?”

“Why now what?”

“You've had eight years to make your move.” She stared up at the ceiling. “Why didn't you do anything before this? I mean, you didn't even want me to touch you up until a few weeks ago.”

Rustling noises told her he was shifting, but her focus stayed on the ceiling until his face blocked her view, forcing her to meet his gaze. “First of all, if I'd made any kind of move during those first two years, it would've been creepy. And illegal. You were
sixteen
. The next three or four years after that, it would've still felt wrong. The last few years, I couldn't stop thinking about it. That's why I didn't want you hugging me. I was so wound up that any contact would've destroyed my willpower. It was pretty shaky as it was.”

“So? Why not act on those thoughts once I was old enough?”