Page 65 of Love to Hate You

It’s called tenacity, and it’s hot as hell. Except in this instance, when she’s doing her best to wear me down.

She takes another step toward me, and I stand my ground. When she reaches out to touch me, I grab her hand before she can make contact. My fingers wrap around her wrist to hold her in place. I don’t think I could stand to feel her fingers brushing across my skin.

“Just tell me the truth,” she implores. “Don’t I deserve that much?”

My heart stutters.

As much as I want to give her what she’s asking for, I can’t. “There’s nothing to tell. There never was.” I shrug. “You’ve had too much to drink.”

Daisy laughs and shakes her head. “Come on, Carter. You know that I’m not drunk. Maybe I was buzzed earlier at the party, but I’m not anymore.” She steps closer, but I don’t release her wrist.

“Go to bed,” I plead. “And we can forget this conversation ever happened. Okay?”

Once I crumble, there won’t be any turning back.

She takes another step until her breasts press against my chest. “Is that what you want?” Her other hand rises and cups my cheek. “To forget?”

God, no.

I shake my head as my gaze drops to her mouth. She nips her bottom lip with her teeth. How many times have I dreamed about doing that?

Too many times to count.

“Fuck,” I mutter.

The walls I’ve built around myself tumble down more easily than I could have predicted. Whether this is a good idea or not no longer matters because it’s going to happen. There’s no stopping it.

My arm snakes around her, yanking her close enough to feel my erection against her belly. “Is this what you want?” I rasp in a last-ditch attempt to scare her off.

Part of me prays she’ll shake her head and tell me no. If she does, then I can walk away, and we can pretend this was just drunken stupidity. Maybe I need to call her bluff. Daisy jerks her wrist free from my grip, and I wonder if I’ve finally pushed too far, if this will be the moment she comes to her senses.

It should be a relief. A narrowly averted disaster. But it’s not. Disappointment rushes through me, nearly swallowing me whole.

Instead of untangling herself from me, she places her other hand against the side of my face, reaches up on her toes, and presses her lips against mine. She doesn’t close her eyes but watches me the entire time.

And just like that, I’m lost.

My hands drop to her backside and lift her off the ground. Her legs wrap around my waist. Her pussy is flush against my cock. She whimpers at the contact, fusing her mouth to mine. Our tongues mingle, retreating and thrusting.

I don’t realize that we’re in my room or that I’ve closed the door until I lower her onto my bed. The unthinkable has happened. My iron-clad control has snapped. I search her lust-filled eyes knowing there’s no turning back.

Not anymore.

“You better be damn sure you want this,” I bite out.

Those harshly spoken words hang in the air between us as I wait to see what she’ll do next.

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