Page 103 of Daisy
I blink, caught off guard by the question. "What? No. God, no." I can't help the laugh that escapes. "Gun's my best friend, my pack brother, but definitely not my type. He's way too quiet for me. And I'm way too loud for him."
"Oh." Relief flickers across her face, followed quickly by embarrassment. "I just thought... you live together, you're so close..."
"We've had each other's backs since we were seventeen," I explain. "Pack brothers. But romantic? Hell no. That would be like kissing my actual brother. If I had one. Which, gross."
She laughs, and the sound eases some of the tension between us. "I was wondering. I mean, after seeing August and Cassian together..."
"Yeah, they're the real deal. Bonded and everything." I grin. "But Gun and me? We're just two idiots who refuse to let the world beat us down. Completely platonic idiots."
"Good," she says, so quietly I almost miss it.
"Good?"
Instead of answering, she moves closer. Close enough that I can feel her body heat radiating against my bare skin. Close enough that her scent wraps around me like silk and makes my cock jerk so hard I'm surprised my jeans don't rip.
"Do you know why I'm wearing Gunner's hoodie?" she asks softly, her voice gone husky.
I shake my head, not trusting my voice. My heart pounds as she steps even closer, close enough that I can feel the warmth radiating from her skin.
"Because it smells like pack. Like safety." Her hands settle on my bare chest, and the contact sends liquid fire through my veins. Her palms are warm, soft, and when her fingers spread wide over my pecs I have to bite back a groan. "But underneath all that comfort, all I can think about is what you smell like. Leather and caramel and something that makes every omega instinct I have light up with want.”
My breathing stops. "Daisy..."
"You want to know the truth?" Her fingers trace over my collarbone, following the lines of ink there with gentle touches. "You make me feel reckless."
I blink, caught off guard. "Reckless?"
"The others make me feel safe, protected. But you?" She looks up at me with those dark eyes, and there's something wild flickering there. Something that calls to every primitive part of me. "You make me want to do crazy things. Make me want to be bold and stupid and completely myself."
My hands settle on her waist without conscious thought, and she doesn't pull away. If anything, she steps closer, pressing herself against me until there's no space left between us.
"But you are completely yourself,"I say, and I can't help the grin that spreads across my face. "You asked Gunner for yourfirst kiss. You let August and Cassian worship you like a goddess. That's pretty damn bold, princess."
"That's different." Her cheeks flush pink, but she doesn't look away. "Those felt... safe. Natural. But with you, I feel like I might do something completely insane."
"Like what?"
"Like..." Her cheeks flush deeper, and she looks down for a moment before meeting my eyes again. "Like do things I've never even thought about before. Like touch you and not worry if I'm doing it wrong." She takes a shaky breath. "Like stop caring about being perfect all the time."
My cock jerks hard at her words, and I have to grip the tree behind her to keep from acting on every filthy thought racing through my mind.
"Princess," I growl, "you can't just say things like that."
"Why not?" That wicked glint is back in her eyes. "You're always telling me I should ask for what I want."
Smart-ass. When did she get so good at turning my own words against me?
"Because," I say roughly, "if you keep talking like that, I'm going to forget all my good intentions about taking this slow."
"Maybe I don't want you to take it slow." She goes up on her toes, bringing her mouth closer to mine. "Maybe I want you to show me what reckless feels like."
I let out a bark of laughter that's half amusement, half desperation. "Fuck, princess. When did you get so damn bold?"
"You taught me," she says simply. "You and the others. You taught me that wanting things doesn't make me selfish. That asking for what I need doesn't make me greedy."
The sincerity in her voice hits me right in the chest. "And what do you need right now?"
"You," she breathes. "I need you to kiss me like you mean it. Like I'm not made of glass."
