His thumb finds the arch of my left foot and digs in.
My eyes close and my head tips back, and I let out a groan that would put my best fake orgasm to shame.
“Oh my God.”
Casey nearly chokes.
I clap a hand over my mouth.
We stare at each other.
Then we both burst out laughing.
“Jesus Christ, Kallie.”
“In my defense, that felt amazing.”
“I gathered.”
Casey’s fingers glide over the sole of my foot and I go completely slack, like every tendon in my body just quietly gave up. The moan that escapes me… is downright pornographic. I’m not even sorry.
He laughs, but the sound is all gravel and shaky breath, like I’m not the only one barely holding it together. His thumb circles a spot on my heel that makes me see actual stars.
“God, don’t stop,” I say, the words coming out loose and unguarded.
“Yeah, I picked up on that.” His voice is low.
“Okay, okay,” I finally say, unable to take the too-pleasurable torture any longer. “Mercy, Casey.”
His low chuckle fills the small apartment. He untangles himself from my legs and heads to the kitchen.
“Do you want anything?” he calls, his voice bouncing off the walls of our tiny apartment.
“Just water for now, thanks. The dogs completely wore me out on our walk today.”
He makes a sound of agreement as he moves around in the kitchen. “That’s for sure. I thought Hank was going to take off with you, but turns out Sir Wigglebutt has been secretly working out.”
The memory makes me snort. “He definitely pulls the most. Poor guy needs more mental stimulation, but good luck telling the family that.”
Casey pours me a glass of water and hands it to me before returning to his position on the couch.
I glance at the two little flowers resting in a glass on the coffee table, the daisies missing a few petals from wilting slowly, and my lips stretch in a wistful smile.
Even though he still hasn’t told me his name, I keep running into the Stud Muffin, and I’m not entirely sure it’s by chance.
It should scare me, but he’s been so adorably awkward about it, and I mean, c’mon. He leaves me flowers every time we bump into each other…
Well, except when he knocked at the door. He didn’t leave a flower then. In fact, he was acting stranger than normal.
Picking up the glass, I inhale deeply, taking in the light, crisp floral scent mixed with Casey’s cologne, which instantly makes me feel more settled.
The scent of daisies always brings me back to my grandmother’s garden, to her calling me ‘Little Daisy’ because of the birthmark over my heart. She’d said the mark would guide me to true love, but lately, it feels more like a magnet for trouble. The pizza man, the cop, the attack… A chill works its way up my spine. Something is coming, and the feeling is less like destiny and more like a threat.
But Casey’s cologne? That smells like home. He’s been my rock since my grandmother’s passing, building a safe haven for us here when I had no family left. The thought of losing him in any way is too much to even fathom, and the scent of him settles me more than anything.
A fact that was proven, very loudly, this morning in the shower.
I open one eye, peering at him through my lashes.
