Page 33 of June 7

"Is there a problem?" she asked.

She greeted him as if he'd come here as a tenant, ruffling his mood again. Had she ever lost her temper? Yelled out at someone who'd pissed her off?

The only time he'd witnessed her lose control was when she was flat on her back, and he was cock deep inside of her. But even then, she had a smile on her face.

And it wasn't one of those fake ones, either.

He was done waiting for her to get over whatever bothered her. He wanted Daisy back. The real Daisy that wasn't trying to fuck with his head.

He pulled her outside, tilted her back, and claimed her mouth. He took her shock and used it to his advantage. The gasp. The heat. And he kissed her like he was taking possession of her.

Then, her lips softened. Her jaw widened. Her body relaxed.

He slowed his temper and held her.

He showed her how he felt.

He begged.

He apologized.

He questioned.

He gave her every fucking piece of him.

The piece of him who had wanted a family growing up. Who wanted that connection with another person? Who needed someone in his life who gave a damn about him.

And, he'd done all that without taking his mouth off her.

She fell into his arms, no longer able to hold her body up. He cradled her to his chest—one hand across her back, the other hooked around her thigh, holding her leg against his hip. Needing more of her, he straightened, taking her into her side of the duplex and kicking the door shut.

A primal need drove him forward, needing to breech the wall she'd built around herself for the past week. His hunger had more to do with needing her than figuring out why she'd gone one-eighty on him.

She broke the kiss. He lifted her and set her on the closest available furniture, the kitchen counter.

He leaned forward, planting his hands on each side of her ass, pinning her to the spot so she couldn't leave. Shoving himself between her knees, he could feel the heat rolling off her.

Her arousal hung in her gaze, making him shake. He pulled the hem of her shirt up over her breasts. She only had on a baggy t-shirt and panties. It was late. She must've been in bed.

"Bane." Her voice pitched higher. "What are you doing?"

"Taking back what you gave me." He dragged his finger around her hardened nipple.

"We can't," she whispered, grabbing his vest. "You don't want to be with me."

"The fuck I don't." He claimed her mouth, needing to stop her excuses.

He had no idea where she got that idea. He wanted her. He wanted her more than any woman he'd ever had. Daisy Hill had sashayed into his life, making him cookies, talking sweet, and capturing his attention.

Once he found something he liked, he took it.

Her muscles spasmed against his touch. He used his lips to open her mouth and stroked her tongue, taking the kiss deeper. The taste of her sweetness hardened him. His cock pulsed behind his zipper. The confining material only made his suffering worse. He wanted in her wet pussy.

Her legs locked around him. Daisy no longer pushed him away but held onto his vest, holding him close. He kissed his way down her neck, sucking on her smooth skin. Her moan vibrated against his tongue.

Stepping back without leaving her, he lowered his head and nuzzled the plushness of her breasts. Opening his mouth, he found her nipple and used his teeth to grab and tug the nub.

She arched, pressing her breast against his mouth. Without letting go of her nipple, he circled his tongue around the tip.

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