Page 101 of The Rogue and His Flower

“Everyone is afraid of something,” she insists.

“Not me.”

“Liar. Tell me.”

“I think you know the answer to that already,” I whisper, pressing her back against the stone wall and crowding her body with mine.

“I’m not sure that I do,” she murmurs, tipping her head back as she looks up at me.

I grind my hips against hers, my cock thickening with lust as I try to blot out the truth hovering between us.

“Do I need to spell it out to you?”

“You’re afraid of love?” she whispers.

“Yeah, that,” I admit.

“No one should be afraid of love, Dalton,” she replies, reaching up, her fingers delicately brushing against my jaw.

“And yet here I am, admitting that to you. Love is a concept that terrifies me, Daisy.”

“Why?”

“Because when you love, you open yourself up to pain, disappointment and heartache. It makes you vulnerable, weak. I don’t ever want to be in that position. Nothing good can come of it.”

“That’s true, loving someone can make you vulnerable, but I disagree about it making you weak. Love gives you strength. Strength to battle your demons, strength tolive. There are so many wonderful things about being loved, about loving someone, Dalton,” she says gently.

“Like what?” I ask, leaning into her hold, unable to help myself as she cups my cheek, drawn to the warmth and care emanating from her. It’s so effortless for Daisy, and I’m envious of that.

“Happiness. Joy. Loyalty. A sense of belonging,” she answers with a gentle smile, her thumb caressing my cheek softly. “And passion… intense, unbridled passion,” she continues. “The kind that makes your heart race, and your body ache for the other person.”

“I can feel that without needing to be in love,” I counter.

“Can you though,truly?” she questions.

“Yes,” I argue.

“Fucking someone can feel passionate, I agree, but when you really boil it down that’s just the bodies response to a rush of pleasure hormones.”

“That’s what passion is, isn’t it? A rush of hormones.”

“I disagree. Real passion isn’t just a physical reaction, it’s an emotional one too. It’s so much more fulfilling when there are feelings involved.”

“I wouldn’t know,” I mutter.

“That makes me feel sad for you, Dalton,” she replies, and my fucking throat constricts.

The encounter with my father earlier has left me raw, in need of someone to talk to, but words lead to truth, and truth uncovers feelings, and… Well, we’ve already established that I’m not any good at those.

“Don’t feel sad for me, Daisy. I don’t deserve your sympathy,” I retort, shoring myself up as I press my lips against hers in ahard kiss, wanting to dominate this moment with sensation not feelings.

For the briefest of moments, she responds, parting her lips, allowing me to sweep my tongue into her open mouth. My fingers wrap around her throat as I hold the beat of her pulse in the palm of my hand. She tastes of sweetness and light, and everything someone like me can destroy. But before I can take things further she twists her head to the side, her hands pushing against my chest gently.

“It’s not sympathy, Dalton,” she whispers, a frown deepening between her eyebrows. “It’s empathy. I can see that you’re guarded, and I can understand why you might be afraid of love, but do you know what else I see?”

“What?” I find myself asking, aching to kiss her again, yet needing to hear what she has to say.

“I see the potential for something beautiful in you,foryou, even if you can’t.”

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