No. Not this time. I already knew she wasn't ready. For the first time, it wasn't about the end game. I wanted Daisy in my bed, but more than that, I wanted to keep her there.
Rushing might get me a fuck, but it wouldn't get me Daisy.
She shoved at my shoulder, and with a rush of disappointment, I rolled back to let her go. I didn't expect her to follow, pushing me to my back and leaning over me, one leg hitched over my hip, grazing my hard cock. Soft breasts pillowed on my chest as she brushed her lips against mine, her fingers again buried in my hair, her palm nudging my head back into the perfect position for a slow, deep kiss.
The brush of her leg against my cock was almost enough to push me over the edge. But it wasn't just that, it was her taking control, leading the kiss. So far, I'd been the one to initiate. I hadn't realized how it would feel for Daisy to turn the tables and seduce me.
Her fingers busy on my shirt buttons, I skimmed my hands up her back and flicked open her bra, filling my palms with her breasts, loving the hum of pleasure in her throat at my touch. It wasn't until she spread my shirt open that she sat up, her nipples peaking beneath her polo shirt, teeth sunk into her swollen bottom lip.
Her fingers stroking down my chest, voice husky, she said, “We're outside, aren't we?”
I grinned up at her as she looked around, eyes dazed with lust as if wondering how we got here. “We are. And there are a lot of windows aimed this way.”
Her teeth sank into her lip again, the obvious regret on her face the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen. Curling up to sit beside her, I nuzzled her cheek, reaching behind her to refasten her bra. “Next time I want you somewhere private. Somewhere it's just us.”
“I want that too,” Daisy admitted. “Not tonight, but soon.”
“Not tonight, but soon,” I agreed.
Letting her go—packing up the picnic and carrying it back to the house, walking her to her car and sending her off with just one more kiss on her sweet, perfect mouth—it was all so much harder than it should have been.
It was a date. A date with a pretty woman. I'd had countless dates and not a single one of them had meant anything. I'd walked away from every one of those women without a second thought.
I hadn't taken Daisy to bed. She hadn't even agreed to go out with me or confessed that she didn't really have a boyfriend, and still, saying goodbye was a bitch.
I wanted her to stay. I wanted her in my house. In my bed. I just fucking wanted her.
Now, I knew she wanted me, too. I could have walked away if I thought she wasn't interested. Really, truly wasn't interested.
Now that I knew she wanted me almost as much as I wanted her?
Nothing was going to scare me away.
Not even Daisy herself.
Chapter Seventeen
Daisy
For two days, I was walking on air. All I could think about was Royal.
I tried not to. God knows I had plenty to keep me busy.
I'd managed to put Grams off on the expansion, and while I hadn't come close to replacing the money, I was making progress. I tried not to look at each entry in my spreadsheet and think about what it was costing me in time and sleep and worry.
I tried not to think about how far I was from my goal and that eventually, I was going to have to explain to Grams and J.T. why our pretty little deck wasn't going to happen this year. So far, I'd added another regular account with the gift shop on the other end of Main Street, and the pop-up grilled cheese stand I'd done for lunch on Tuesday had been a hit.
I was exhausted, tired all the way to the marrow of my bones, and still, all I could think about was Royal.
I couldn't get my head around the idea that he liked me. More than liked me.
He was Royal Sawyer. He was smart, and funny, and successful on top of just being a Sawyer. And handsome. So freaking handsome. Just looking at him—hell, just thinking about him—made my knees weak. It was everything. Those blue eyes. His smile. That body.
I'd barely gotten a good look at it the other night under the tree, but what I'd seen—wow.
I wanted to see more. A lot more.
I had to face the truth. I wanted Royal Sawyer.
It would be easier if I could tell myself I just wanted to sleep with him. J.T. had been right, it had been a long time for me. Whether I wanted a relationship or not, I could do for some physical contact of the sexual variety.