by Tessa Bailey
Unable to see Daniel’s face, she watched as the woman ran a hand down the front of his shirt, smiling up at him flirtatiously. Story felt her heart sink to her stomach, and tears sprang to her eyes. But something urged her closer. Feeling like her insides had been hollowed out, she sidestepped a group of women and Daniel’s face came into view. His eyes were not on the woman, but furiously scanning the room. For her? He looked uncomfortable, backing away from the woman and saying something Story couldn’t hear.
Standing so close, the two made a beautiful couple. It became painfully obvious to Story then that they’d been intimate at some point in the past. The knowledge felt like a punch to the gut.
These are the kinds of women he normally dates, she thought. The same kind of woman Fisher left me for. Classy, well connected…beautiful. She could barely stand being in high heels longer than an hour. Until now, Story hadn’t realized the women she’d been picturing as Daniel’s conquests were loud and trashy with bad dye jobs. She should have known he would attract women like this instead. Women with whom she’d been unconsciously competing for Fisher. And now Daniel. Only this time, she didn’t think she could survive losing.
Every instinct told her to turn and run. Run away from what she was seeing. Go back to California and pretend none of it ever happened.
But then Daniel’s eyes met hers, a dozen emotions flickering in their depths. Relief, desire, apology, dread. And then, for just a brief second, she saw shame. Not shame as though he’d behaved inappropriately. No, he clearly couldn’t be more relieved to see her. Quite possibly, he even needed rescuing from the woman in white. She read shame over what he’d done in the past. Of her bearing witness to something she wasn’t meant to see.
That made her mind up. Whether or not she’d consciously made the decision, she’d made Daniel hers in her mind long before now. He meant something to her. She wanted to belong to him, too. And if they had a chance in hell, she needed to get thicker skin. This probably wouldn’t be the last time a woman from his past popped up, but what she chose to do now would determine how she handled it in the future. She could either run away crying or go get her man. She chose the latter.
Taking a deep, fortifying breath, she started toward them. Daniel held an arm out, his eyes begging for understanding.
She slid into his side in time to hear him say, “Here she is. This is my—”
“Girlfriend. Story.” She smiled and extended her hand out to the brunette. “It’s nice to meet you.”
Dutifully, the woman shook Story’s hand, but didn’t return her smile. “Wow. Daniel Chase has a girlfriend. I honestly didn’t believe it. You deserve some kind of a medal, hon.”
Turns out a nice outfit doesn’t mean class. “I don’t need a medal. I’ve got him.” She reached down and took Daniel’s hand. Their eyes met, his filled with astonished gratitude. “Ready to head home, trail mix?”
“Ready, sunshine.”
Chapter Eighteen
Daniel watched Story from across the taxi’s leather seat as they weaved in and out of traffic on the FDR Drive. She’d rolled down her window, allowing the warm night air to rush in and blow blond hair around her face. Streetlights illuminated her briefly as they passed underneath, giving him flashes of her face in the darkened cab.
They hadn’t spoken since leaving the party, but thankfully their joined hands rested on the seat between them. She hadn’t let go of him once since the unfortunate encounter with his past at the bar. Daniel gripped her fingers like a lifeline. Without the simple connection, he felt like she could disappear at any moment.
He’d been granted a stay of execution. He knew how difficult it must have been for her, seeing him with someone he’d obviously slept with. If he ever saw Story with an ex-boyfriend, he would never have been able to swallow the jealousy long enough to be the bigger man. Especially if the faceless prick had the nerve to touch her.
Despite his requests for the woman to back off, she’d completely disregarded his words. She’d actually laughed at him, thinking he was joking. And could he really blame her? He didn’t recall the when and how of their association, but she probably had every right to assume he would go home with her, no questions asked. She couldn’t have known how drastically he’d changed. That one woman ruled his every thought and action.
He’d been on the verge of walking away, giving up on any attempt to be polite. Before he could make his move, he’d seen Story watching them and thought, “That’s it. It’s over. I fucked this up before it even began and hurt her in the process.”
Debating on the quickest way to catch her when she inevitably turned and ran for the elevator, he’d been shocked when instead she’d swooped in and claimed him. I don’t need a medal. I’ve got him. Daniel would never forget that moment if he lived for a hundred years. Within the space of a minute, he’d gone from feeling like the lowest possible life form to champion of the world. Someone who might be worthy of her. She’d made him feel wanted in a way he wasn’t accustomed. Now that she’d referred to herself as his girlfriend, he didn’t know how he could live without hearing it every day. Did he have a choice?
Story turned toward him now, hair billowing around her beautiful face and lights dancing in her eyes. Her lips stretched into a broad, reassuring smile and Daniel’s heart stuttered before kicking up a faster pace in his chest.
He’d fallen for this girl. The realization felt like pain and perfection at once. How do people live their lives feeling like this, day in and day out? Like your next breath depends on another person’s happiness? She’s torture and heaven all wrapped up in one forbidden package.
And she’ll leave you.
Hadn’t he known better than this? If his childhood had taught him anything, it was that wanting something inevitably led to disappointment. Somehow that lesson had utterly deserted him when it came to Story, because he wanted her with every goddamn bone in his body.
Certain she could read every thought on his face, Daniel quickly turned away. Declarations threatened to burst from his mouth, but he knew it would be too soon. Story wanted to pretend that she wouldn’t be leaving when Jack recovered. As though tonight was any regular night between them. And after what she’d done for him back at the party, he would do anything she asked of him. If he revealed how deeply his feelings for her ran, it might push her away.
She squeezed his hand. “What are you thinking about?”
If she only knew. “You were on the verge of running away back at the party. I saw it on your face. What changed your mind?” When Story didn’t answer for long moments, Daniel turned to meet her serious eyes.
“You,” she replied simply.
The cab pulled up in front of his building then, saving him from having to speak around the knot wedged in his throat. He paid the driver and minutes later, they stood outside his apartment door. It felt surreal, having her there when he’d done nothing but wish for her presence over the course of the week.
When they walked inside, Daniel stood at the entrance and watched Story wander around his living room. This apartment had been his first permanent home after graduating from the academy. He’d placed furniture, rugs, and photographs exactly where he wanted them and kept the space ruthlessly clean in appreciation of having a place to call his own. Something he’d always wanted, but never expected. Kind of like Story. Now, he tried to see it through her eyes, hoping she liked what she saw.
Daniel watched as her hand trailed over the back of his couch. He wanted that hand on him, starting on his belly and inching its way lower. Having her in his apartment, among his things, was turning him on. Without removing his attention from her, he made a quick mental calculation of how many surfaces on which he could have her. When she rested her hands on the windowsill and leaned forward to get a look at the river, her dress rode up the backs of her thighs. He bit down hard on his tongue to keep from groaning.
Story must have sensed the shift in his energy because she turned from the window. He thought he might ha
ve heard her breath catch as her eyes landed on his face. “It’s a nice view.”
“Stunning,” Daniel agreed. He tossed his keys on the kitchen counter and went toward her. “What about the rest of it?”
She looked around. “It feels like a home. I think I expected to see Mets pennants on the wall. Or maybe a painting of dogs playing poker.”
“Oh, I have one. It’s in the bedroom.” Her easy laughter rolled through him. Touching her couldn’t wait any longer. Daniel grasped her around the waist and lifted her onto the windowsill, watching as the dress climbed up her legs and left them almost completely bare. His hands skimmed down the outside of her smooth thighs, over her knees and down to her feet. He slipped her heels off and let them drop to the floor, laughing when she whimpered in relief. “I want you to be comfortable here. No sore feet on my watch.” He leaned forward and kissed the skin beneath her ear. “And hopefully I won’t wake you up this time with a nightmare.”
She stiffened against him. “Daniel, it’s okay to have nightmares. I understand.”
Daniel’s hands ceased their movement and he pulled back to study her. He read people for a living. Something about the way she said those words, with a slight hitch in her voice, tipped him off. “What do you understand?”
Her expression was a mixture of sympathy and anxiety, most likely over his reaction. “I know…I know what the nightmares are about. The morning after you had the nightmare, Jack made a comment about your childhood preparing you for hostage negotiation…and I was curious, after the things you said in your sleep. It’s not Jack’s fault. I shouldn’t have pried like that.”
He zeroed in on one thing she’d said. “What did I say in my sleep?”
Story hesitated, looked away. “Nora. You kept repeating the name Nora.”
As always, the mention of his foster sister sent a jolt through his nervous system. He still thought of Nora every day, but it felt different somehow to have her name was spoken aloud. It made his life’s biggest failure feel that much more real. And now Story knew. Or had known for days. The final piece of himself he’d been capable of hiding from her melted away until he stood in front of her completely defenseless. She knew about his past with women, his horrible upbringing. He had nothing left to hide from her. Yet, knowing all his flaws and shortcomings, she was still there with him.
Daniel had one more question. He hated asking it, but her answer would be exceedingly important to him. The knot in his throat had returned, but he tried to speak around it. “Do you pity me, Story?”
For the second time that night, she surprised him. “No. I pity the sixteen-year-old boy. Of course I do. How could I not?” Story rose from the windowsill and placed her hands on his chest. She waited until he met her eyes to continue. “But I don’t pity the man. The man took a tragedy and used it to give himself purpose. The man is magnificent.”
Story’s pronouncement burned in his chest. Unable to respond or face the rush of emotions, he sank his hands in her hair and kissed her. Her head fell back, lips parting on a sigh that he savored on his tongue. He plastered her body against his, molding her curves to his contrasting hardness, the driving urge to pleasure her swaying him on his feet. His hands traced down her sides to grasp her hips, his intention to lift her against him and carry her to the bedroom, but he froze as her hands began working his belt buckle.
He tore his mouth away. “No. I need to have you in my bed.”
“You will.” She kissed his jaw as her hand slid inside the opening of his pants. Daniel groaned as her hand found his erection, her fingers gripping him firmly. Perfectly. “But I need something first.”
When Story sank to her knees in front of him, Daniel stopped breathing. Even as he tried to capture in his memory the image of her looking up at him with a swollen mouth and heavy-lidded eyes, he tried to stop her. “Baby, you don’t have to—”
His protest died a quick death when she slowly licked the underside of his straining cock from root to tip, eyes closed in enjoyment as she did so. Every intention he’d had of stopping her evaporated from his mind and he gave himself over to the pleasure. When her mouth closed around him, a growl erupted from his throat and sweat broke out along his skin. He commanded himself to stay still and take whatever she gave him, but he couldn’t stop his hips from undulating ever so slightly toward the suction of her mouth.
Daniel’s thoughts bled together, blurring his plans to go slow and communicate his feelings, if not with words then through actions. He’d wanted to show her a different side of himself. Make love to her. Prove he wasn’t completely ruled by the demands of his body. But her mouth was driving him wild. Every intention to hold back receded each time she drew on him with her lips and tongue.
Reaching down, he fisted her hair in one hand. “Goddamn, you have an eager little mouth.”
In response to his words, she hummed in the back of her throat, sending vibrations over his hard flesh. Daniel had to grit his teeth at the sensation. He watched as she squeezed her thighs together from her position at his feet and knew how wet she would be when it came time to slide inside her. Knowing she got that way by sucking him off would make it twice as sweet.
Daniel felt the familiar tightening in his stomach. Muscles clenched, breath harshened. Coming in her mouth would be heaven, but it would be selfish and he wouldn’t allow himself the honor. Not as long as an ounce of need existed in her body. He released her hair and slipped from her mouth, mourning the loss so badly, he struggled with the urge to push himself back between her pink lips. But somehow, he found the willpower to help her to her feet and sweep her up into his arms. Then he turned and strode purposefully toward the bedroom.
“I wanted to keep going,” she murmured against his neck, kissing and nipping the sensitive skin with her teeth. “Why did you make me stop?”
Daniel bit back a groan and kicked open the door to his bedroom. “I’ll tell you why, gorgeous. Because I’m finally going to taste your pussy and I want to fucking ache while I do it. When I’m inside you tonight, I need to know I earned it.”
When he reached the foot of his bed, he set her on her feet, then quickly undressed as she watched. She bit her bottom lip as he stripped, blue-green eyes heavy with want. Finally naked, he reached for the hem of her dress and pulled it off over her head until she stood before him in nothing but that white wisp of fabric she called panties.
“Take them off.” He hooked a finger in the elastic and let it snap against her hip, making her whimper. “I’m keeping them.”
Story slid the material down her legs before dutifully placing them in Daniel’s outstretched hand. She watched through glazed eyes as he walked to his dresser and placed them in the top drawer. Before he returned to her, he removed a condom from a box on the dresser and rolled it on.
Daniel’s heart pounded noisily in his ears. He flashed back to the night before, when he’d lain in bed picturing her just like this, naked at the foot of his bed, desperate for him to satisfy her. The reality far outshined any fantasy. With moonlight spilling across her beautiful body, she looked like she’d stepped straight from his dreams. Except this time she was real and waiting for him to please her. The need to possess roared through him. She would remember tonight for the rest of her life if it killed him.
He leaned forward and brushed his mouth against hers, trailing his fingers up her arms. She shivered and sank into the kiss, melting for him in the way he craved. He continued teasing her with featherlight caresses of her naked body until she moved closer, pressing into his hands and wordlessly asking for more.
Daniel placed his hands on her shoulders and pushed her down onto the edge of the bed before dropping to the floor between her thighs. Anticipation rushed through him. Since that very first day at the hospital, he’d been yearning to taste her. He wanted to memorize every shiver, every cry of pleasure. With firm hands, he parted her knees wide.
She gasped.
With an effort, he dragged his gaze up from the juncture of her thigh
s, over her perfect, pink-tipped breasts to meet her eyes. “What is it?”
Story’s hands clenched and unclenched on his comforter. “Nothing. I’ve just…I’ve never…”
“Never?” Daniel’s mind reeled a second before desire, even more potent than before, slammed through him. Knowing he could claim her with his mouth, mark her in a way that no one else ever had, humbled and empowered him at the same time. For the first time in the last week, he actually felt grateful for his ample experience.
Daniel dipped his head and kissed the inside of her knee. At the same time, his hands skimmed up her belly to her breasts, where he teased her stiff nipples with his thumbs. He continued his methodical motions until he felt the tension ebb from her body, her thighs relaxing open once more. Savoring the taste of her skin, he licked up the inside of one thigh before giving the other side the same treatment. When her hips began shifting on the bed, he knew she was ready for more.
He hooked his hands beneath her knees and draped them over his shoulders. “Baby, you’re going to want to lie back for this.”
…
Story watched, nervous and impatient all at once, as Daniel’s dark head dipped between her thighs. She’d always wondered what this level of physical intimacy would feel like. Now she would finally find out. With Daniel. Her head tipped back on a sigh when his rough beard scraped the delicate skin just beneath her belly button, causing her stomach to quiver involuntarily.
His mouth moved to her hip bone, scraping her skin with his teeth. “Knowing these tan lines are hiding underneath your clothes drives me fucking crazy.” His parted her with his fingers. “The sun has touched you everywhere else. But only I get to touch you here.”
At the very first touch of his tongue, Story collapsed backward on the bed with a throaty moan. She felt a laugh vibrate in his throat before he continued circling her clitoris with small, circular strokes of his tongue. Mindlessly, she arched her hips off the bed, trying desperately to relieve the building pressure. Her hands sank into his hair, pulling him closer, pushing him away. She couldn’t form a decent thought to decide.
