Page 24 of Play Fast (Brooklyn Dawn 2)

If I was a better man, I probably wouldn’t answer such questions. Or even refer to other women at all, considering what had occurred in the front seat a couple of hours ago. I was honest to a fault, which didn’t always serve me well.

Besides, what, I’d gotten her off, so now we were going steady? No. I shouldn’t have even fucking touched her, but after she’d nearly jumped from my speeding truck, the adrenaline had been coursing too hard. Add in a healthy dose of lust and that sexy as hell outfit and shit happened.

I wouldn’t soon forget how her pussy felt convulsing around my fingers. Problem was, that taste hadn’t been nearly enough. I wanted to actually taste her. Put my mouth between her legs and—

I crossed the few feet to the truck and slammed my fist against the side. Immediately, I rubbed it out and murmured an apology. It wasn’t Jenny’s fault I couldn’t control myself. It had been too long since I’d been with anyone, that was all.

After hauling out my backpack and Annette, I came around to the passenger side to see if Daisy had brought some kind of bag with her. All I found was a tiny purse the size of a napkin, my hoodie, and the Roy Rogers bag, neatly folded up with her leftover sandwich inside.

My stomach growled, and I debated eating it before I went back in. She owed it to me for pain and suffering due to this whole crazy trip. Plus, additional mental anguish for fingerfucking her.

It wasn’t as if she was just a hot girl. She worked with my band, and she lived in my memories. That wasn’t even mentioning how she drove me mad every single day she was in my realm.

My saving grace was that I hadn’t fucked her. It had been a close thing. Granted, this was pretty bad, and it wasn’t easy to be platonic once you’d gotten in a chick’s panties, but we were adults. It wasn’t as if either of us were virgins. We could just chalk the moment up to an instance of near-death insanity and move on.

Then I walked back inside and found Daisy curled up on the couch, fast asleep once again, and my heart rolled over.

Her sunny hair tumbled over her face, making her appear impossibly young. She’d tucked up her legs and made a pillow out of her hands beneath her head. Jesus, she was cute.

Who was I kidding? She was beautiful.

Before I could talk myself out of it, I set down our belongings and went to pick her up, cradling her against my chest as she stirred. She said something unintelligible, and I mumbled the typical sweet nothings back so she didn’t wake while I carried her down the short hall to the master bedroom.

The only bedroom, which was problematic on several levels.

I set her down on the bed that dominated the room, looking at it critically for the first time since I’d purchased the place. The thin cotton that barely covered the windows when I didn’t pull the heavy blackout curtains on my rare weekends recovering by the lake in between nights on tour. The rickety bookshelf of old books I’d brought with me from my room at home with my mom and Kerry. The small TV on the wall that more than covered my needs.

That was about the sum of the room’s furniture, not counting the hinged trunk at the foot of the bed that held the small amount of clothes I kept there. There was only one closet in the entire place, and I used it to store rain gear and fishing poles and outdoor equipment for the times I tackled the shrubbery and weeds.

Swallowing hard, I stepped back from the bed. Even the navy comforter seemed entirely too dull for her. This cabin was intended for a single male and decorated with his tastes in mind. No room for rainbows and glitter and sunshine. Yet here she was, brightening up the room already just by existing.

I tugged the comforter over her and she muttered something before falling asleep again.

God, I envied her that. I hadn’t slept that easily in I didn’t know how many years. Only the pure exhaustion that came from performing a two-hour plus set could effectively knock me out.

Tonight, even that wasn’t working.

I was too edgy to sleep, so after a quick pit stop in the bathroom, I went into the kitchen and made a pot of coffee. I still hadn’t shaken off the terror I’d felt when Daisy had opened that door on the highway. Some part of me had seen her broken and bloody on that road. Another light extinguished at my hands. Or if not because of me, because I wasn’t strong enough, smart enough, quick enough to save them.

The jury was still out if I’d even be able to save myself.

I poured the steaming coffee into a cracked moose mug and moved back into the living room. Settling into the couch, as shitty as it was, made me sigh. This was the closest thing I had to a real home despite the couple of other places I owned. No one else came here. There were no pretensions. Nothing I’d decorated to impress someone. I wouldn’t be inviting any photographers or journalists in here to do a spread as I had a couple years ago with my place in LA. It was a showplace with no soul that fit my persona and nothing else.

Certainly not the real me.

I tossed back half the coffee and pulled out a pad and pen from the side table before reaching for Annette. Already words were coming to me, boiling in my brain as if they’d been waiting for the match to be struck. Inspiration in the form of destruction.

Save yourself for me

That candle I couldn’t hold

Flame too hot to touch

Burned through my skin

Beneath the bone and ash

Blood that courses for you

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