For the first time ever, I curse my high tolerance for alcohol. I need to drink more. To drink until I have whiskey dick.
Thank fuck Daisy is too shy to ask.
“Well… you can stay here.” Her eyes travel up my body. “But I’m going in the water.”
“Go for it.”
Her eyes meet mine. She stares at me, stares through me. “You’re not going to join?”
“I can get your swimsuit.”
“Is that what you want?”
I should say yes. Or this is a bad idea. Or some sensible alternative.
Something I won’t regret tomorrow.
Something that won’t fuck up shit with Oliver.
Or lead to her getting hurt.
I reach for an excuse, but it’s too fuzzy, too far away.
The words spill from my lips.
“No.” Fuck, I’m already hard enough to burst out of my jeans. This is going to kill me. To actually kill me.
“Then help me.” She turns her back to me. Motions to her zipper.
My hand brushes her shoulder.
She groans as my fingers glide over her dress. I pull the zipper down her back.
My hand acts on its own. It traces a line up her spine.
Fuck, her skin is soft.
And the way she’s shaking—
I’m going to come in my jeans if I keep this up. Which is probably for the best. I won’t rebound fast enough to fuck her.
God, I want to fuck her.
To taste her.
To fill her.
To be the first person to fill her. I don’t usually care about that shit. I don’t have some virgin fetish.
But Daisy—
“Thank you.” She shifts her hips, turns her body toward me. Stands. Peels her dress off her shoulders. Over her chest, stomach, hips, knees.
She bends to step out of it. Folds it and sets it on the chair behind us.
Her underwear isn’t any skimpier than her bikini. But the implication is so fucking different.
This is private.
For her.
For her and anyone she invites to watch her, touch her, kiss her, fuck her.
I try to meet her gaze, but my eyes refuse. They trace a line down her body. Then back up again.
She’s not the skinny kid she used to be. She’s still long and slim, yeah, but she’s curvy too.
The pale pink lace hugs her chest. Her hips.
“Holden?” Her voice drips with sex. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah. I, uh… I’ll look away.”
“Don’t.”
“Daisy—”
“Please. I’ve never… No one has ever seen me. Not like this.”
My balls tighten. “No one?”
She nods yeah. “I know you… just… I’m going to lose my nerve if I wait. So don’t ask me to stop. It doesn’t have to be more than this. But let me have this.”
She’s asking me to watch her strip.
I fell asleep and woke up in a porno.
I’m dreaming.
This isn’t reality.
Only when I pinch myself, I see the same sky full of stars, the same glowing aqua pool, the same gorgeous girl standing on the concrete.
“Is it okay?” she asks.
She’s asking me if it’s okay for her to take off her clothes.
Either her dad really focused on the consent part of “the talk,” or there’s something I’m not seeing. Something about her.
Maybe I don’t get women. Don’t get what a big deal this is.
Or maybe I—
“Holden? Is it okay?” She straightens as she meets my gaze.
“You want me to watch?”
“Yeah.”
Fuck me. I can’t say no. I can’t do that to her. I don’t want to. “Okay.”
Her cheeks flush immediately. Slowly, she reaches behind her back. Unhooks her bra. Peels it off her shoulders.
Then off her chest.
She places it on top of her dress.
Her arms fall to her sides.
Her eyes meet mine.
She’s perfect. But then she’d be perfect if she was bigger or smaller or rounder or straighter.
She’s perfect because she’s Daisy.
And, okay—
I’m not going to bullshit.
She’s perfect in all the usual ways too.
Her tits are on the smaller side, but they’re perky.
Her nipples are hard.
That’s for me. The blush, the heaving chest, the shaking—
It’s all for me. It’s how much she wants me.
And I’m sitting here, on this bench, like an asshole at a strip club. An asshole who can’t even bother to tip.
Her hands go to her hips.
This time, she manages to hold my gaze as she pushes her panties to her thighs.
Her blush deepens.
Her limbs shake.
She lets the underwear fall at her feet. Kicks it aside.
Looks to me.
Her lips part. She starts to say something. Stops herself.
Takes a step closer.
Then another.
“Daisy—” I don’t know how to finish the sentence. I can’t tell her I don’t want her. I’m not going to lie to her.
And that whole we shouldn’t. Your brother would kill me thing doesn’t matter at the moment.
At the moment—
Fuck, I can’t remember the last time I was this hard.
Her gaze travels over my body. Holds on my eyes.
Something passes between us.
Something different.
New.
It’s not the usual I want you, you want me.
It’s deeper.
A lot deeper.
Like she’s seeing into my soul.
Her throat quivers as she swallows. She turns on her heels. Slowly. Carefully.