Pay the Price: A Dark New Adult Romance

18. Daisy

Ilay in bed, listening to the sound of Otis pushing open the window in the living room.

I hadn’t heard it when he’d broken in for the first time two weeks earlier, but my ears were trained to it now, and I’d started to wait for him: the almost-inaudible rattle of the fire escape, the glide of the window opening, his barely there footsteps in the hall.

I hated to admit — even to myself — that I’d come to look forward to his visits, that I had a hard time falling asleep without his protective shadow in the chair against the wall in Cassie’s guest bedroom.

Most of the time we didn’t say much, but every now and then we’d talk through the dark, the intimacy of it allowing for all kinds of stories and confessions. I told him how I’d always felt different from Ruth and Blake, how I’d felt like my dad hadn’t liked me, how I was terrified of the future, which loomed in front of me like an amorphous shadow with no shape or clarity.

He told me that he’d felt different too, not just from his little sisters, who he adored, but from everyone. He told me how he worried that he wouldn’t amount to much, that his parents would be disappointed in their only son even though they constantly told him they loved him and that nothing mattered to them except his happiness. He told me about Tony Greco, some douchebag in eighth grade who’d made fun of him for being “weird” and how Blake, Wolf, and Otis had beaten the kid up, been suspended because of it.

I hadn’t heard that story before, although I knew Blake had been suspended a few times over the years. It made me miss my brother. We hadn’t been close, especially as teenagers, but I hadn’t realized the comfort his presence had given me until I didn’t have it anymore.

“Hey,” I said softly when Otis entered the room. He closed the door quietly behind him, the way he always did, careful not to wake Cassie even though she knew he visited in the middle of the night.

“Hey.” He crossed the room and lowered himself into the chair. He was quiet, but I felt his presence like a crackle of unseen energy: the spark of electricity when you pulled a plug from the wall, the charge of lightning right before it hit.

A long silence descended between us. It wasn’t awkward — one of the things I loved about Otis was that I never felt the need to talk — but that didn’t mean it wasn’t filled with tension. I looked forward to Otis’s visits, found comfort in them, but there was something else there too, a side effect I hadn’t counted on.

I wanted him. The intimacy of our late-night conversations had added depth to the lust I’d felt for him before my kidnapping, and it was getting harder and harder not to pull him into my bed during the long night.

I fought against it, feeling battle-weary, torn between my desire to have Otis close and the voice of reason that told me it would be smarter to tell him not to come.

“Do you want to lie down?” The words were out of my mouth before I could think about them.

Shit.

“Yes,” he said.

“You can have the other side.” There was no reason for him to be uncomfortable.

He crossed to the other side of the bed and I felt the mattress dip with his weight.

I was lying on my back, but I could see the shadowy outline of his body in my peripheral vision, could feel his gaze on my face.

When I turned my head I saw that he was lying on his side, looking at me.

I swallowed and turned onto my side to face him. His eyes glowed in the half light of the room and I caught the scent of motor oil and sweat that was so uniquely male, so uniquely Otis, that I felt desire blossom to life at my core.

“Are you going to stare at me all night?” I asked.

“Maybe,” he said. “I like looking at you.”

“I like looking at you too,” I said, because it was true, and being around Otis, who always told the truth, made me want to tell the truth too.

He reached out to tuck a piece of hair behind my ear. “Did you know this would be a bad idea when you invited me to lie down?”

His voice was low and heavy with promise.

“No,” I said. And then, “Yes.”

He slid his hand into my hair and I closed my eyes, surprised that something so simple could be so erotic. But I guess that’s what happens when you’re forced into celibacy after the best and only sex of your life.

“I’ll keep my hands to myself if you want me to,” he said. I kept my eyes closed, pressed my thighs together, trying to get my wet pussy to stand down while Otis stroked my cheek with his calloused thumb. “Do you want me to?”

The correct answer was yes. That was the answer that would prove my loyalty to Blake, the answer that would keep me from falling back under the spell of the three men who’d killed him.

But I was lonely. Lonely and tired of being alone.

I’d been alone for five long years while the Beasts had been in prison. I’d been alone in wondering if they’d really done it, if they’d really killed Blake, and I’d been alone in my determination to find out.

I’d been alone at the dam and alone ever since, feeling crazy and stupid for believing the Beasts might not have killed Blake and feeling crazy and stupid for wanting them even after I knew that they had.

The truth was, I didn’t want to be alone. Not tonight.

So I answered Otis’ question with another truth. “No. I want you to keep doing what you’re doing.”

His exhaled breath was a soft wind on my face, like he’d been holding it, waiting for my answer.

Then he moved closer and pulled me into his arms.

I sighed as he pressed himself against me, holding me tight and close. It was such a relief: to be held, to feel the solidity of his muscled body, his strong arms around me.

He held me like that for so long I thought that might be it. That maybe he was just going to hold me, that maybe I’d been imagining the crackle of sexual tension still between us as he’d watched from the chair night after night.

Then he pulled away enough to look down at me and I saw the lust flare like amber fire in his eyes. “I’m going to fuck you now, Daisy.”

He shifted and I felt the press of his cock, long and hard against my stomach, and I knew I was weak and it was wrong, but I wanted him so much. What was a girl to do?

“Okay.”

He tipped my head and leaned over me, then touched his lips to mine. I’d forgotten how soft his lips were, how kissing him felt like sinking into a down pillow.

I sighed into his mouth, letting my tongue slide against his as one of his hands trailed down my neck and over my tits.

He slid his hand under my tank top and the heat of his skin against my skin was almost enough to send me over the edge. Before I’d lost my virginity to Wolf, I hadn’t understood why everyone made such a big deal out of sex. Then I’d had two short weeks of nonstop fucking with Wolf — plus that super hot blow-job lesson with him and Otis the day Wolf found me snooping in his room — and now I was like an addict who’d gone too long without a fix.

I moaned as Otis rolled one of my nipples between his fingers, his kiss growing more intense in direct correlation to how much harder his dick was becoming against my stomach.

He broke our kiss and nipped at my bottom lip, then trailed kisses across my jaw and down my neck, all the while murmuring my name like a prayer.

“Daisy, Daisy, Daisy… My perfect doll.”

I wasn’t perfect and I wasn’t a doll. I was just a fucked-up girl whose principles apparently went right out the window when some hot dick was on offer.

But it was more than that too. This wasn’t just some guy, some hookup.

This was Otis. I wanted him, yes, but that was the thing: I wanted him.

Him and Wolf… and maybe even Jace too.

Otis grabbed my knee and hooked it over his hips. Now I felt the full length of his dick against my needy pussy, and I pressed into him, rubbing against the length of his shaft, using the friction to stimulate my clit. The rough fabric of his jeans against my legs, bare except for the boxers I wore to bed, somehow made the whole thing more erotic, a study in contrast: Otis’ calloused hands against my smooth skin, the rough fabric of his jeans on my bare legs, his rigid cock pressed into my soft heat like it belonged there.

He yanked up my tank top. “Fuck, Daisy. You have no idea how much I’ve dreamed about doing this.”

He flicked his tongue against one of my nipples, then sucked it into his mouth.

I moaned, turning my face into the pillow to stifle the sound. It was one thing for Cassie to know Otis was sneaking in to keep an eye on me but it was something else for her to know we were fucking, especially now that I knew the truth.

I pushed up his shirt, desperate to feel his bare skin on mine, then ran my hands over the muscled plane of his chest, over his shoulders and up into his long hair.

We were tangled up in each other on the bed, my leg still flung over his hip while he worked my tits with his mouth and hand.

Finally I got frustrated with his shirt, his jeans, all the layers of clothing still between us.

“Take this off,” I gasped, yanking at the shirt.

He leaned back and reached down to tug off his shirt with one hand. My breath caught in my throat at the sight of his perfect chest, leaner than Wolf’s but defined and leading to flat abs and a trail of golden hair that led into his jeans.

“Jeans too,” I said.

He scrambled off the bed, all too eager to comply, and unzipped his jeans, then pushed them off his hips.

I didn’t know if he hadn’t been wearing underwear or if he’d just gotten rid of them with the jeans. What I did know was that he was now naked, and the sight of his perfect cock jutting between his thighs was enough to turn my smoldering desire into a raging inferno.

He got back onto the bed and kneeled next to me, then reached for my tank top. “Fair’s fair, doll.”

I let him pull it over my head. Then he got between my thighs and pulled off my boxers and underwear.

He tossed them aside and looked down at me, his gaze raking my body slowly, the way he looked at a rare car with custom detailing. “Goddamn.”

It was just one word, but his raw appreciation made my face heat with pleasure.

He stretched out over me and kissed me long and slow, our tongues tangling in a heated dance. The head of his cock nudged my already-throbbing pussy and I opened my legs wider, making it clear what I wanted.

“Wolf was right,” Otis said, breaking the kiss to murmur against my lips. “You’re an impatient little thing.”

“You talked to Wolf about fucking me?” I asked.

“Sure,” he said. “We talk about everything.”

“What did he say?” My voice was breathless as he touched his lips to my neck, kissing his way down my throat and leaving a trail of fire every step of the way. My nipples were hard, my pussy soaking, every nerve in my sex-starved body tingling.

“He said there’s nothing you don’t like to do,” Otis said, his tongue dipping into the well of my collarbone.

“I don’t think I’ve tried everything yet,” I said, lifting my chin to give him better access. “What else did he say?”

His lips branded my chest. He pushed my tits together and licked them just enough to make me want more, to crave the heat of his mouth. “He said you’re responsive, that you’re not shy in bed.”

“He said that?” My eyes were closed, the words floating through my mind. I had a hard time concentrating as he pressed his lips to my stomach, making his way lower.

And lower.

“He did.” The mattress shifted and I opened my eyes to see that he’d positioned himself between my thighs.

“What else?” I asked. Why was it such a turn-on to know they’d talked about me? That they’d talked about fucking me? Had Jace been there?

He pushed my thighs open. “He said your pussy gets dripping wet when you’re turned on.” Otis’ voice had grown hoarse and I moaned as he slid his fingers through my cunt. “You’re dripping now, doll. Does that mean you’re turned on?”

I gasped as he slid his fingers inside me, and I looked between my thighs and watched him work my pussy with his fingers. “Yes. What… what else did he say?”

“He said you love to come on his face.” His tongue darted out to tease my clit. “That true, doll? You like it when someone eats your sweet little pussy?”

I reached between my thighs and dug my hands into his hair, barely able to think straight with his face just inches from my desperate cunt. “Yes.”

He chuckled and there was so much pure delight in it that I laughed too.

“Good.” His breath was a whisper across the sensitive skin of my pussy. “Because I’ve been starving for you.”

I lay back and closed my eyes.