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Chapter Four
Nick
Daisy collapses in my arms,and I bend to scoop her up against me, cradling her to my chest. I’m mentally kicking myself for giving her more wine than she could handle. She’s such a tiny thing. I should have guessed she might not be able to handle that much of such a strong vintage.
But I can’t help loving the feeling of her tiny body cradled against me, the soft silkiness of her hair cascading down over my arms, the way her head turns into me as she sleeps softly.
I know I should probably lay her down on the couch and leave her alone until she comes to, but instead I sit on the couch with her still cradled in my lap. I run my hands through her hair and study her angelic face.
Her milky white skin is marred only by precisely four freckles. One on the right side of her forehead, one to the left of her nose, one on the bottom of her left check, and one right along her hairline.
I stroke my hand along her hair, petting her like the docile little kitten she looks like sleeping peacefully in my arms. I trail my fingers over her neck and arms. While I might be tempted to touch all of her body, I don’t. I’d never take advantage of her while she’s sleeping.
I don’t know how long I sit there and hold her, just enjoying the sweet vulnerability on her face as she slumbers. Something about the sweet serenity on her face when she’s usually so feisty and sassy does something to me. To have such a little firecracker vulnerable and complacent in my arms brings out a surge of desire and protectiveness within me like I’ve never known.
It’s probably an hour or more, and while I’d like nothing more than to just hold her like this all night, I’m not sure she’d appreciate waking up to find out she slept in my arms all night. She’d probably call me a creep. My lips quirk up at the thought.
And I need all the brownie points I can get with her if I want to win her the respectable way without kidnapping her.
It’d certainly be easier to just lock her up here and never let her leave.
But then I’m sure she’d hate me forever, and I don’t want that.
So against all my desires, I finally begin to gently shake her awake. She hums a little sound of protest and burrows her head deeper into my chest. I feel a rush of male pride that she’d nuzzle closer to me even if it is subconciously.
“Daisy,” I say her name softly as I continue to rouse her.
Her lips pout prettily, and I’m tempted to kiss them again. They look so luscious and pink.
Her lashes start to flutter, and then they snap open and zone in on my face. Reality comes crashing back down on her as she realizes where she is.
It bothers me way more than it should that her lips turn down into a frown when she recognizes me.
“Well, I can’t say I’ve ever kissed a woman unconscious before,” I joke, trying to lighten the mood and longing to see the fire flare in her eyes.
It works because her blue irises instantly ignite to become twin flames that I’d gladly burn in.
“I’ve never drank before,” she protests, pushing against my chest to try to sit up.
I allow her to sit, though I keep her firmly planted on my lap with my hands on her waist, not willing to relinquish the contact just yet.
“How long was I out?” she asks, squirming on my lap. I have to bite back a groan at the friction she’s unknowingly creating on my aroused cock.
“Long enough for me to know that you have exactly four freckles on your face.” My voice comes out gruffer than I intend, thick with the sudden emotion clogging it. I’ve never felt this way about a woman before, like I could hold her all night and yearn to learn everything about her, like if she has freckles elsewhere.
She blushes and turns her face away from me, her long hair falling down to shield herself from my gaze. She gives a breathy laugh, “You counted my freckles?”
“Mmmhmmm,” I hum against her hair, breathing in that honeysuckle scent of hers. “Makes me wonder if you have more.” I trail my hand over her arm, testing the boundaries of what she’ll allow. If I thought she’d be okay with it, I’d strip her down here and now and ravish her with everything in me, until she agrees that she would always be mine and mine alone.
It would be so easy for me to become completely consumed with her. I think she could quickly become an obsession.
Who am I kidding? She already is my obsession.
When I trail my hand down onto her bare leg, I feel her tremble in my arms as her breath hitches in her throat. The attraction pulsing between us is a living thing. I know she feels it too, but she’s more resolute than I am because I feel her tiny hand cover mine to still my wanderings over the naked flesh of her thigh.
“I think I should go home now,” she whispers.
I drop my forehead onto hers and look into her eyes with a groan, fighting to keep my body under control.
