Accidentally Kidnapping the Cowboy (Accidentally Kidnapping)

9. Daisy

CHAPTER 9

DAISY

Zane comes barrelling out of the motel room, barefoot and dripping wet, a towel slung around his hips and rage painted on his face.

“Let her fucking go,” he bellows, grabbing my step-father by the back of the neck. Neil is yanked back, and because he’s got a good hold on me, I go with him.

Shoving my hands hard into his chest, I finally break loose and Zane spins him around, smashing his face against the hood of the truck.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing with my wife?” he snarls.

“She’s not your wife,” Neil whines. “She’s a good for nothing whore, but she works hard on the ranch.”

“Not anymore.” Zane smashes him again. “Daisy, get in the room. Call the cops.”

“We dropped the charges,” my mother says desperately. “Leave him alone!”

Zane sends her a murderous glare. “Do you think I was fucking worried about your trumped up bullshit charges? Not for a second. But grabbing Daisy? That’s assault. Trying to shove her into the truck and take off? That’s kidnapping.”

“You’re hurting him! That’s…that’s the real assault!”

“I’m defending my wife .” Zane shoots me another desperate look. “Daisy. Now. Go.”

I sprint inside and grab my phone. My fingers shake as I call 911.

“9-1-1, what’s your emergency?”

“I was attacked by my step-father and my fiancé is currently holding him back.”

“Is this at the motel just north of Poker Lane?”

“Yes.”

“We’ve already had a report. Deputies are on their way. Would you like to stay on the line?”

I move to the open doorway and see Zane standing between my mother, who is still shrieking at him, and my step-father, who he has handily pinned to the front of the truck, even one-handed.

Because his other hand is holding on tight to the towel around his waist.

“No, I’m okay. My fiancé has it under control. Um… can you tell the deputies that he’s only wearing a towel, so he can’t like, get on the ground or anything?”

“Ma’am, that’s for them to decide when they arrive on the scene.”

Okay, well then I better quickly get what I need from the truck.

I hang up and dash back to the scene of the crime.

“The police are on their way,” I say to Zane from across the truck as I go around to the passenger side.

I open the door, planning to hop up and grab the baseball card from across the cab. But as I put my foot on the running board, I see something I didn’t notice when I was hauling Zane’s unconscious body out of this seat a day ago—his phone, wedged under the passenger seat.

Grabbing it, I quickly climb up and get the baseball card. I don’t think my mother notices, and Neil’s head is twisted in the other direction.

Hopping out again, I hold up the phone, keeping the baseball card tucked against the skirt with my other hand. “Found your phone, Zane.”

He flashes me a grin just as the blue and red lights come around the corner. “Good girl.”

It’s the same deputy who was called out yesterday, so he recognizes us all, and he thankfully doesn’t make Zane get on the ground in his towel.

The first time I see my husband naked, I don’t want witnesses. And I want to be able to touch what I see.

“What’s going on, folks?”

Voice trembling, I explain that I was just coming out to retrieve a personal belonging from the truck before we went to see the judge, and how Neil attacked me and my mother helped him by distracting me.

After I give my statement, Zane gives his, which is brief and to the point.

My mother shrieks and yells, and Neil denies everything, but this time, it’s their turn to be handcuffed and hauled away in the back of a cop car.

We’re reminded that we still need to see the judge at ten o’clock, and then we’re left alone in the parking lot.

“Inside, Daisy,” Zane growls.

I run inside. That’s the same tone he used on me yesterday when we were in the jail cell together.

“It’s been a very eventful courtship,” I say brightly as he slams the motel room door shut behind us.

“Why the hell were you outside?”

“I needed to get something.” I slide the baseball card onto the top of the dresser so it doesn’t get any more of my nervous hand sweat on it, and then set Zane’s phone next to it.

“I can get a new phone, woman! Do not risk your pretty little ass for me again, do you understand?”

“It wasn’t—” But the explanation can wait. “You think my ass is pretty?”

He shakes his head. “God damn it, that’s an understatement. It’s not about you being pretty, Daisy. It’s about you being precious. It’s about never wanting to hear you scream like that ever again. It’s about wanting to protect what’s mine.”

“I’m not yours yet. You haven’t married me.”

He gives me an incredulous look. “Don’t need a judge to confirm what’s in my heart. I took one look at you and knew you were an angel.” His voice goes soft. “My angel.”

I want what those two words promise so, so much. I need to be sure, though. “You called me demon girl.”

He grins, and doesn’t even try to hide it. “You did take me across two state lines while I was unconscious and then surprise me with a marriage license, all before I knew your name. It took me a hot second to realize that my first instinct was exactly right. You are an angel. You are fearless and brave and silly and just foolish enough to leap into the unknown with a cowboy. I love everything about that.”

He’s so serious. Standing in front of me, muscles all tense from the confrontation, still only wearing a towel. I know he’s trying to have a serious conversation with me, but the more animated he gets, the lower that towel dips, and the trail of hair leading south from his navel is getting thicker and darker. I’m staring. I can’t help it.

“Daisy.”

“Mmm?”

“Daisy!” He laughs. “My face is up here.”

I take my time, then give him an innocent smile when I finally meet his warm gaze. “Hi.”

He exhales. “Do you know how scary that was for me, seeing you kicking and screaming for your life…and at the same time have to ignore how fucking hot it was to see you fight like a damn hellion, your little white panties on full display, knowing this towel was all that was keeping my inconvenient erection from making itself the Main Character in that confrontation?”

I squeak and wave my hands. “Zane!”

He takes a step toward me, then stops. Inhaling, he sits on the bed instead, the towel parting over one long, thick thigh. Dark hair dusts up to the edge of the white cotton. Another slice of my husband-to-be revealed, and I’m staring again.

“What are you doing?” I ask breathlessly.

“Nothing.”

“You sat down.”

“That felt smarter than grabbing you and kissing you again, while I’m wearing fucking nothing.”

“You want to kiss me right now?”

“Daisy, I want to kiss you all the fucking time.” His chest heaves. “Yeah, I want to kiss you. I want you to straddle me and grind those white panties down on me until my dick busts out of this towel.”

“But we have to go to breakfast,” I say faintly.

“I don’t care about breakfast. I care about that ten o’clock appointment we have with the judge. Can’t be late for that. But every second before that is ours.” His gaze darkens. “There’s a lot we can do before we’re married, you know.”

I don’t. But I want to. Eagerly, I lean forward, my fingertips barely hanging on to the dresser behind me. “Like what?”

“Lift up your skirt and show me those panties.”

Pulse pounding, I slide my hands down the front of my thighs, then gather my dress in my fists and pull it up to my hips.

He exhales thickly and nods. “There she is. What a pretty little sight that is, darling. How does it feel to give me this?”

My heart squeezes. “Good and bad.”

“How does my attention feel?”

“Good.” I smile a little at the immediate, breathless admission.

“Where does it feel good?” He licks his lips. “Can you feel yourself reacting?”

“W-what do you mean?”

His gaze is so blazing now, I fear I might get heat stroke from it. “Is your pussy growing warm? Does your clit ache to be touched?”

I gasp, sagging back against the dresser, and despite myself, my legs spread a little wider.

“Touch yourself for me, Daisy. Slide your hand into your panties and let me see how good it feels to touch yourself.”

“I can’t.” This denial is as swift as my admission that his attention feels wonderful.

“You’re safe here. It’s just us. I won’t even see anything, it’s just your hand in your panties.” There’s a noticeable movement under his towel. “I want to see how good you can make yourself feel.”

“I don’t know if…how…”

Disbelief flashes across his face. “Tell me you’ve made yourself come.”

I shake my head, fresh shame mounting on top of old.

“Sweet girl…” He exhales. “Come here, Daisy. Please. I want to hold you. I promise nothing else will happen.”

Haltingly, I cross to him, and he takes my wrist so gently I barely feel it as he guides me to sit on his thigh.

“There’s nothing wrong with touching yourself,” he murmurs as he presses his face against my cheek. “Who told you that nonsense? I touch myself all the time. It feels good. Don’t you want to feel good?”

I nod nervously, my breath catching. “I do. But I got in trouble…”

“Oh, baby. It’s okay. You’re mine now. And you’ll never get in trouble for touching yourself, I promise.” His hand squeezes my bare arm, then my hip through the light cotton fabric of the dress.

Then his touch moves to my thigh, his fingertips grazing my bare skin, and I tense up.

“It’s okay,” he promises. “I’m not going to do anything. Can you put your hand where mine is?” His breath is hot against my cheek, making my head spin. “Daddy wants you to.”