“Him…who?” Recognition dawned in her eyes. “Fisher? Why would he send me flowers?” She shook her head. “Roses, at that. He always bought me sunflowers.”
Irrational anger ate at him. Daniel could see his reaction for what it was, but the momentary clarity did nothing to counteract his single-minded jealousy. He never let himself get irrational. It accomplished nothing. Why, then, did the thought of another man sending her flowers make him want to punch a hole in the wall?
Because she doesn’t belong with you. She belongs with the kind of man you’ll never be. The kind of man who sends flowers. And why the hell hadn’t he thought to bring her flowers? He’d gotten lucky with this date falling unexpectedly into his lap, and now her ex-fiancé was showing him up from across the damn country.
Well, he was the only one there and he would pleasure her the only way he knew how. He backed Story into the apartment and kicked the door shut behind him. As they stared at each other, the air thickened, closing in and cocooning them until it felt as though only they existed. Sexual awareness, always present between them, beat powerfully in his ears. He watched as Story registered the change in the atmosphere, relished the way her lips parted just slightly on a tiny inhale, her eyes dropping below the waistband of his jeans.
Desire mixing with uncertainty on her face, as though she sensed an air of danger in him and liked it. “If you came to argue, maybe you should just leave.”
“You don’t want me to leave.” Inwardly, he flinched at his dark tone. He shouldn’t be talking to her like that, knew he needed to rein it in, yet the need to assert his claim on her battered him from the inside. He felt the calm, rational part of his brain desert him and a cruel, possessive alter ego take over. Toning it down wasn’t an option.
“Why don’t you tell me what your problem is?”
Daniel moved toward her, but she held her ground, eyes shining up at him defiantly. The urge to kiss her, to let his need overtake his anger, almost won. But not quite. “Yesterday on the phone, you wanted to say something dirty to me. I told you to remember it and tell me later. Now’s the time. I want to hear it.”
“No.”
He ran a teasing finger along her neckline. “Would you like me to persuade the words out of you?” Her br**sts rose and fell in a shaky breath, beautifully, temptingly, but she didn’t answer. She didn’t need to. He leaned forward to whisper against her mouth. “I think you want that very badly. Missed my hands, my mouth, my cock, didn’t you, baby?”
A needy whimper passed her lips, but her eyes squeezed shut, as if gathering strength. Then she looked up at him with a familiar expression. She was daring him again, just like two nights before. Do your worst. He felt stripped bare under her blue-green gaze. It threatened to topple years of pent-up feelings like dominoes, so he rebelled against it. To give in to her dare would be emotional suicide.
Walk away. You’re tarnishing her just by being near her.
No. He couldn’t walk away any more than he could stop breathing. In a burst of speed, Daniel grasped her around the waist and dropped her onto the dining room table, her bare thighs slapping on the surface. He spoke around the steel band gripping his throat. “Now, gorgeous girl. What dirty little secret were you going to tell me? Let me know when I’m getting warm.” His thumbs drew lazy circles on the insides of her knees. “Were you going to tell me that you woke up after our night together, all tight and wet for me, wishing I was still there to take care of you?”
“No,” she moaned, her thighs parting ever so slightly wider in way he knew was unconscious for her, contradicting her words. She couldn’t help wanting him any more than he could help the dark, possessive cloud that had settled over him, guiding his actions.
“No?” He echoed against her neck, where he swirled patterns on her skin with his tongue. “Were you going to ask me to bite you harder next time? Perhaps on your hip or that sexy part of your thigh just beneath your ass.”
“M-maybe,” Story gasped, surprising him. He’d meant his words to shock her, but judging from the way she shifted restlessly on the table, they only served to arouse her further.
He swallowed the urge to spread her legs and pound away his frustration, jealousy, and lust. Just a little longer. “Were you going to tell me you’ve never been f**ked so thoroughly in your life?”
“Yes, Daniel.”
A darkly primal growl originated in his belly and rumbled through his chest. Just a little further. He needed something more from her, but he could barely discern what that something was over the hunger blanketing his thoughts. Daniel slid his hand between her legs and crooked his middle finger just slightly. “Then I believe that grants me exclusive rights to this.”
Story gasped and pushed hard against his chest. For long moments, they stared at each other, attempting to catch their breath. Seeing the confusion on her face finally brought him out of his hostile state, to be immediately replaced by panic and self-loathing.
“Jesus, Daniel.” With jerky motions, she stood and straightened her skirt. “What is wrong with you?”
He dropped heavily into the dining room chair. “I don’t know. God, I’m so sorry.” He knew he should get up and leave the apartment, never contact her again. He’d be doing her a favor. She should be demanding he leave. Maybe she already had. He couldn’t remember.
Story ran a shaky hand through her hair. “I don’t understand why you felt the need to go there.”
What could he say? He’d been pushed over the edge by some goddamn flowers? He’d carefully constructed a persona that he slipped into around women, but around her, he couldn’t keep it up. Maybe this was the real him. If that was the case, she should be running in the opposite direction. “There is no explanation for the way you make me feel. A few days ago we were standing in front of a vending machine and now we’re here. Nothing so far has been…explainable.” He blew out an exasperated breath. “We were just supposed to talk about books, goddammit.”
Daniel looked up at her from his seated position, watching as she absorbed his words, determined his fate. Whatever she decided, he would take it like a man. He would f**king hate walking away from her, but he’d known from the beginning that she deserved better. And he’d just proven it to her beyond a shadow of a doubt. How everything had gone to absolute shit within ten minutes, he could hardly fathom.
“No one has exclusive rights to me. Except me.” She pierced him with a look. “You just made me feel…really cheap.”
He jerked as if she’d slapped him again. “Oh sunshine, if anyone’s cheap, it’s me.”
She swayed a little on her feet, his apology only seeming to upset her further. When Daniel couldn’t stand her silence anymore, he finally spoke up. “So what happens now?”
After a long, torturous moment when she stood debating, Story finally walked to the couch and picked up her purse. “I guess we go watch some goddamn baseball.”
…
On the half-hour ride to Queens they stayed mostly silent, Daniel glancing at her every few minutes as if she might throw open the passenger door on the highway and hurl herself into traffic to escape him. While she certainly wouldn’t go that far, she knew her decision to attend the baseball game with him after the scene in Jack’s apartment could be deemed highly questionable. Story liked the way Daniel took charge sexually and pushed the boundaries, but he’d gone overboard. She’d nearly demanded he leave regardless of his sincere apology, giving her some much-needed time to clear her mind, but he’d looked up at her with such naked misery on his face, she couldn’t do it.