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I’d made mistake after mistake, practically out of my mind with fear and anger. Daisy’s landlord, whom I’ve been in contact with because I’m currently in the process of buying her building, tipped me off about the break in only minutes before she arrived back, and it was a mad race to get there in time to intercept her.
She wasn’t in any real danger. The landlord told me she’d seen the burglars leave before she arrived, but my little brat had walked right in there without that knowledge.
I was furious.
I’mstillfurious.
Throwing her over my shoulder and spanking her beautiful ass red in the back of a moving car wasn’t the plan, but Daisy has a way of making me throw “the plan” out the window.
If I had a shred of self-control, I would have put her in the back of that car, sent her off to Phillip, and lethimdeal with her.
I’m so far gone that that option,the right thing to do, didn’t even cross my mind until hours later while I paced back and forth through my home.
My home, which includes the studio full of paintings of Daisy.
It didn’t stop after that first night. I’ve barely slept for weeks now, too busy immortalizing her in paint on canvas, the pieces becoming increasingly muddled the more time we spend together. There’s no longer a clear line between her and me. We’re in each other's lives, our colors bleeding together.
Most people looking at the pieces wouldn’t be able to tell who the woman is, but I have absolutely no doubt that Daisy will. She sees what others have missed in me, what I‘ve missed in myself for years.
There is no ambiguity in this situation. No room for denial or misinterpretation. This is no drunken phone call. Soon, Daisy is going to wake up, and she’s going to want answers I can’t give her.
What the hell am I supposed to say?
The evidence of my obsession is written on my face and my actions. It’s painted across canvases in some of the greatest works of my career. I can’t hide anymore, and like a cornered animal, I’m looking for any possible means of escape.
There’s no other option. I’m going to have to push her away. I’m going to have to be cruel, do irreparable damage, and end this before I have a chance to fall in love with her becauseI will.
It would be easy.
Every single thing about her, her smile, her wit, her kindness, her beautiful body, all of it draws me closer and closer to that ledge, and if I fall, there will be no chance of escape.
The truly fucked up part is that I’m beginning to lose my grip onwhyit would be so wrong.
I’m so distracted by my miserable internal struggle that a soft voice from the doorway of my kitchen makes me jump.
“Good morning.”
Daisy is standing in the morning sunshine, her hair loose around her shoulders and dressed only in one of my old, paint-splattered work shirts. Her feet are bare, she’s not wearing makeup, her hair is sleep tousled, and she’s so beautiful I’m nearly lost for words.
I have to do this now, or I might never find the strength to again.
“Sit down.” I gesture to the kitchen table, biting back my nausea. “We need to talk.”
I expect her to look worried or at least nervous, but Daisy simply smiles and does as I ask. Leaning back in her chair, she crosses her legs, giving me a tantalizing view of her bare thigh. “Have something to say, Penn?”
I swallow the lump in my throat. “Last night was a mistake. I apologize for how I… handled the situation.”
Daisy’s lips twitch. “That’s okay. I liked it.”
Jesus Christ.
Blood begins to rush to my cock, and I frantically try to gather my thoughts, taken completely off guard by her reaction. “It won’t happen again.”
“If you say so.”
“Daisy,“ I growl. “I think you’ve gotten confused about our relationship. I don’t want you like that. I’m not attracted to you in the slightest.I don’t want you.”
If she’s hurt by my lie, she doesn’t show it. On the contrary, that maddening little smirk grows. “Do you want to know what I think?”
