“Daisy.”
“Yes?”
I cup her face in my hands. She gasps, and then I’m kissing her.
A week of overwhelming desire crashes through me like a wave, and I kiss her like I’m drowning and she’s air. She melts into me instantly, wrapping her arms around me and pulling me closer. She opens her mouth to me, and the sweet taste of her kiss makes my head spin.
I back her against the side of my truck. She moans into my mouth, and my cock is instantly hard as a rock. My hands slide into her hair, tilting her head back, deepening the kiss until neither of us can breathe.
“Knight—” She gasps my name against my lips and presses her gloriously thick body against mine.
“I need you, Daisy.” I kiss her jaw, her throat, and satisfaction roars through me when she shivers.
“Me too.” Her fingers dig into my shoulders. “God, me too.”
I find the tattoo with my mouth. Press my lips to the half-finished design, to my art on her skin. “My art on you,” I murmur, not thinking, lost in the taste of her. “Drives me crazy.”
She doesn’t register what I’m saying, and I can’t believe I admitted my secret so easily. But she pulls me back up to her mouth, and nothing else exists but our kiss and how she makes me feel. The kiss turns desperate, hungry, a week of tension exploding between us in the shelter parking lot.
When we finally break apart, we’re both breathing hard. Her lips are swollen. Her hair is a mess. She’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
“Come home with me.” The words are out before I can talk myself out of this, because bringing her home means her seeingmy paintings, and knowing what no one else in the world knows about me.
Daisy’s eyes search mine. Whatever she finds there makes her smile the most beautiful smile.
“Yes.”
CHAPTER 6
DAISY
The door barely closes before I’m on him.
I don’t know who moves first—maybe both of us. His back hits the wall, and I’m pressing against him, hands sliding under his shirt, desperate to touch his skin.
He groans into my mouth. The sound vibrates through me, pooling low in my belly, and I want more. I want everything.
“Daisy—” He spins us, reversing our positions, and suddenly I’m the one against the wall. His body covers mine, solid and warm and unspeakably hot. “I’ve been thinking about this. Every damn night.”
“Me too.” I pull at his shirt. “Off. Take this off.”
He reaches back and yanks it over his head in one motion. I suck in a breath as I look at him. Ink covers his chest, one of his arms, his shoulders. His skin holds a world of stories.
I want to trace every single one with my tongue.
“Your turn.” His voice is rough, fingers finding the hem of my shirt. “Can I?”
“Yes. God, yes.”
He peels the fabric up and over my head, tossing it behind him. His eyes drop to my chest—to the white lace of my bra, to the partial tattoo still visible above the cup. The kitten’s head, delicate and unfinished, right over my pounding heart.
He traces the outline with one finger, barely touching. “Do you know how crazy this has made me? Knowing you were walking around with it incomplete?”
Heat floods through me at the possessiveness in his voice. The tattoo he started and couldn’t finish because I was too weak to handle the pain.
“Then finish it,” I whisper. “Finish what you started.”
His eyes darken. “I will. But not right now.”
