Chapter 15
DAISY
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
“...And then Troy split his shorts right down the arse-crack when he bent over to pick up the weights he was lifting,” Riley continues, breaking into a smile that has me snort-laughing.
“Oh my God, I bet the women at the gym loved that,” I reply, giggling.
Riley smirks, dropping his mouth to my ear. “You bet they did, and a few of the men too, especially when he was completely starkers beneath them. Pretty sure the whole gym caught a glimpse of his family jewels, and a lot more besides.”
I tip my head back and let out a raucous laugh, clutching my belly at the thought. “You’re killing me, Riley!”
“Having fun?” a familiar voice mutters.
I snap my head around to find Dalton standing right behind me, his jaw clenched tight as he glares at us both. What the hell is his problem?
“Evening mate, I was just telling Daisy about Troy splitting his shorts at the gym yesterday. It was fucking hilarious,” he says, good-naturedly, completely oblivious to the fact that Dalton looks like he’s about to burst a blood vessel.
“Enjoying the singing?” Dalton asks pointedly.
“She’s got a great voice,” Riley answers with a grin.
“I agree, so maybe you should spend more time listening to it than flirting with my fiance!”
“Flirting?” Riley questions, flicking a bemused look my way. “We were just talking, weren’t we, Petal?”
Dalton’s nostrils flare. “Petal?!”
“Ignore him, Riley, he’s had a little too much to drink, clearly,” I interject with a scowl of my own.
“I’m not nearly drunk enough for this shit!” he snaps back.
“You’ve got it all twisted, Dalton. Daisy’s a friend,” Riley says, his tone conciliatory.
“You called her Petal,” he growls.
“It’s just a nickname,” Riley shrugs, nonplussed. “All the guys at the gym call Daisy that.”
“All the guys at the gym?!” Dalton counters, a muscle in his jaw flexing as he grits his teeth.
“It’s cute, right?” Riley asks.
“Cute? It’s fucking–” Dalton begins, but I cut him off.
“This is ridiculous. Maybe you should go outside. Get some air, and sober up a bit?” I suggest.
Riley clears his throat uncomfortably as he casts his gaze between us, eyes widening a fraction. “I should probably go and get that drink now,” he says, but then hesitates, turning to face me. “Are you going to be alright?”
“Of course she’ll be alright, what the hell do you take me for?” Dalton snaps at him, before reaching for my hand. “Come with me. Now!”
I take a step back from him, shaking my head. “With you acting like this, absolutely-fucking not.”
“Listen, I can see you’re pissed off,” Riley interjects, “Though I’ve no idea why given we were just talking.”
“You were flirting with her!” Dalton argues, his voice rising.
“You need to calm down, and consider how you’re acting,” Riley scolds, none too impressed with Dalton’s behaviour.
“Fuck. Off. Riley!”
“Dalton, that’s enough,” I hiss, embarrassment heating my cheeks.
“You need to get your shit together, man,” Riley argues, reaching out to grasp Dalton’s shoulder, a mixture of concern and warning on his face. “This ain’t a good look.”
“Don’t tell me what I should do,” Dalton grinds out.
“Someone needs to!” I say, flicking my gaze across the room.
Thank goodness everyone is entranced by Harlow’s singing and Drix is preoccupied dancing with Lia because I know for a fact he’ll lose his shit if he sees the way Dalton is behaving right now.
“Come on, Dalton, have a little respect for Daisy. She doesn’t deserve this,” Riley adds.
Dalton grits his jaw, and for a moment I think things are going to escalate, but instead he nods sharply, swiping a hand through his hair, his expression falling. “Fuck!” he exclaims.
Riley frowns, genuinely concerned. “Seriously, though. Are you alright, man?”
“Apologies, Riley, Daisy. I’m being a dick,” Dalton replies, blowing out a breath as he shakes his head. “I should probably go outside and get some fresh air.”
“Yeah, seems like a good idea,” Riley agrees as Dalton twists on his heel and storms off, shoving the door open before stepping outside. “What the hell was that all about?”
“Things are a little tense,” I admit.
“Tense?”
“With the wedding plans,” I lie.
Riley reaches out and squeezes my shoulder reassuringly. “I can see how that could happen. Looks as though you could both do with talking things through?” he says reasonably.
“Yes, you’re probably right,” I agree, chewing on my lip, though I’m honestly not sure how to handle the situation. Dalton had warned me he was possessive, but Riley is a friend to both me and Dalton, and I don’t know how to feel about how he’s acting. I don’t like his behaviour, not one bit, but equally, I’m confused by it. His apparent jealousy would imply that he feels some type of way about me, but then again, perhaps I’m reading too much into it.
Riley gives me a sympathetic look before nodding. “Want some moral support?” he offers.
“Probably best if I do this alone,” I reply, my attention drawn to Dalton through the window. He’s standing outside, his hands shoved into his pockets, staring off into the distance. “I’ll go talk to him now.”
Riley offers me a smile before excusing himself to get a drink. I take one last glance out of the window before heading outside to find Dalton leaning against the wall, his gaze fixed on the ground.
“Dalton,” I start tentatively.
“Just give me a moment, Daisy, or should I say, Petal?” he adds, cutting his gaze my way.
“He meant nothing by it,” I find myself saying.
“It’s too familiar,” he counters.
“He’s a friend. Yours too,” I remind him. “Riley isn’t like that. You know that.”
“And the rest of the guys at the gym?” he questions. “Because apparently they all call you Petal too.”
“Are just friends. I do have some you know,” I point out.
Dalton pinches the bridge of his nose, muttering something under his breath. “I just–”
“You just what, Dalton?” I press, folding my arms around myself, white clouds escaping my lips from the cold.
“I was…”
“...Just super rude to both Riley and me? Acting insane? Trying to manhandle me? Should I go on?”
“I warned you I can be possessive,” he retorts, a muscle in his jaw feathering as he side-eyes me.
“What I don’t understand is why? Is it because you don’t like someone else paying attention to one of your toys, is that it?” He opens his mouth to respond, but I hold my hand up, refusing to let him speak. “Firstly, I can talk to whomever I want, and secondly I’m a human being, Dalton, not some possession that you can pick up and discard at whim. You’ve pretty much ignored me all week, but the moment anyone else pays me any attention you act all possessive!”
“You’re not a toy, Daisy, but you are mine,” he retorts, taking a step towards me.
“We’ve been over this,” I reply, exasperated. “I am not yours, I am my own person. After everything you said at the engagement party, I thought you were beginning to understand that! Clearly, you don’t.”
Anger blazes across Dalton’s face as he reaches for me. One minute I’m facing him, the next my back is against the brick wall with his body pressed against mine.
“You’re driving me insane!” he snaps.
“I think you’ll find that you’re already a little unhinged,” I shoot back, trying to shove him off me, but he reaches for my hands, pinning them above my head with one hand whilst the other clasps my jaw. I gasp, a mixture of fear, and something else I don’t want to look too closely at, scattering down my spine at the intense way he looks at me.
“You don’t get it,” he grinds out, his fingers curling tighter around my wrists.
“No, you’re right, I don’t get it,” I heave out, my heart pounding as hard as his appears to be right now. “Now, let me go!”
We share a heated stare, our bodies communicating more than words ever could. I don't want him to treat me this way, yet my body is betraying me once again as a flood of arousal pools between my legs at the heat between us.
“I think you want me to kiss you, not let you go,” he accuses, his lips brushing against my cheek.
"You’re delusional,” I reply, my heart tripping inside my chest as he drags his lips across my jaw.
“You’re turned on,” he says, before pressing his mouth against the pulse in my neck.
“I’m not,” I protest. “I’m angry.”
And turned on, but he doesn’t need to know that.
“I think you want me to trap your body like this,” he continues, grinding his hips against mine as I drag in a sharp breath at his very obvious erection, “So you can feel what you do to me. So you know how much you drive me fucking crazy.”
“You have an addiction, Dalton,” I reply, not even trying to stop him as he slides his thigh between my legs.
“Yes, to you it would fucking seem.”
“No, your need to be in control makes you possessive of me.”
“You’ve no idea,” he mutters against my skin, his tongue tasting me.
“Your need to fuck makes me attractive to you,” I continue, biting down a moan at the unholy way he’s licking my skin.
“That’s not the only reason,” he replies, gently biting down on the lobe of my ear.
“Your need to appease your ego makes me someone you want to toy with,” I breathe, chest heaving.
“No,” he insists, his teeth scraping over the tender flesh of my neck.
“None of this is what I need.”
“But it is what you want,” he counters, his lips grazing my collarbone as he releases my hands and reaches for the hem of my miniskirt. My hands fall to my side, just hanging there.
“I didn’t say that.”
“So why aren’t you pushing me away, Daisy?”
“Because…”
“Because?” he murmurs, swirling his tongue over the dip in my neck.
Because I’m broken.
Bitter tears prick my eyes at the thought, and I hate that I feel so damn vulnerable. Logically, I know that the attention Dalton is giving me right now is a knee jerk reaction to my conversation with Riley, and a byproduct of his sexual addiction and possessiveness. I know that this isn’t about him wanting me, but try telling that to the damaged little girl who still lives inside of me.
“Admit it, you can’t fight this anymore than I can,” he mutters. “That’s why you’re not pushing me away..”
“I have flaws too,” I admit quietly, heaving out a tremulous breath, my eyes stinging with tears.
“I highly doubt that,” Dalton replies, his lips sliding back up my neck, his fingers pushing up my skirt, the heat of his hand like a trail of flames licking across my skin.
A low, desperate moan escapes my lips as I whisper, “I do.”
Dalton’s hand glides over my hip with a possessive hold, his fingers digging in as he presses the firm muscle of his thigh against my aching pussy. The sensation sets me on fire, making me writhe and yearn for more.
"Oh God," I gasp, seeking pleasure, ignoring everything else.
“Tell me about your flaws, Daisy,” he commands, his voice gravelly and intense, just like painful little stones beneath bare feet. “Tell me what you’ve been hiding beneath that sweetness you extend to everyone but me, and whilst you do, keep using my thigh to get yourself off.”
With each word, his fingers squeeze and knead my arse, driving me closer to the edge as my body moves uncontrollably against his thigh, pleasure building as I rock against him.
It’s wrong, but I can’t stop. I can’t.
“I ignore red flags,” I whisper as he brushes his lips against mine, confessing my sins.
“I know, I’ve seen how many you’ve ignored over the years with other men. Fucking drives me crazy.”
“I crave physical touch,” I admit, my fingers curling into fists at my side as I try to stop myself from reaching for him and hauling him closer.
“Interesting,” he replies, his free hand sliding up and over the centre of my chest and gently resting around my throat, his thumb stroking the thrumming pulse in my neck. “Anything else?”
“No!” I snap, refusing to let him get any more insight into my damaged heart.
“You’re lying,” he goads against my lips, his fingers tightening a little.
It only seems to add to the pleasure building in my core. My airways thin, forcing me to drag in more oxygen between my parted lips, intensifying the thrum between my legs. His touch is both a taunt and a seduction that leaves me dizzy with desire. The heat from his body brands mine, searing through the fabric of my clothes.
I gasp. “Don’t…”
“Don’t what? Don’t hold your quivering pulse in my hand? Don’t lick your skin? Don’t taste your lips? Don’t press my thigh against your dripping cunt? Don’t what, Daisy?”
Don’t stop.
I know that I should push him away, put an end to this reckless game before it consumes us both. Yet all rational thought evaporates into thin air as an orgasm builds, gaining traction with every rock of my hips, every gasping breath, every teasing burn of his lips against my skin.
“Tell me what you’re hiding, Daisy. Tell me and I’ll let you come.”
“Don’t make me say it,” I whisper.
“Daisy, tell me. Tell me what’s hidden beneath that pretty smile, and those bright clothes you wear.”
“I can’t.”
“You will,” he insists, his eyes glinting with determination, his fingers tightening on my hips as he guides me to rock faster, to chase the pleasure.
I tremble uncontrollably from his touch, from the orgasm building within me, from the heartbreaking, desperate truth hovering on my lips. My fists curl tighter as I try to find the strength to resist him, but the pleasure he’s conjured is overpowering any semblance of sanity.
“Please,” I croak, my voice shaking as stars pinwheel behind my closed eyelids and the first wave of my orgasm begins to crest, “D-don’t make me say it.”
He pulls back slightly. “Open your eyes and look at me,” he demands.
My eyes snap open, and behind them tears tremble on my lashes.
“Daisy?” he gasps, the forcefulness of his need to know what I’m keeping hidden from him wavering at my distress.
I blink, and one by one my tears fall as I rip open my chest and admit the truth. “I seek out affection from the wrong type of man in my need to feel wanted, so I feel like I’m worth something, that I’m loved, because the right type of man never seems to want me.”
“What?” he questions, pulling back, his body going rigid.
Everything comes to a screeching halt, my breath, his body, the sound of Harlow singing inside, the goddamn universe. Any pleasure I felt disappears and is replaced with a sense of deep loss. Then, like a bottle of champagne uncorked, my secrets bubble out of me, and I'm unable to stop now that I’ve started.
“I seek out comfort and kindness, care and affection, love and respect,” I say, dragging in a tremulous, tear-stained breath, “So I can try to forget how badly I was abused and ridiculed, tied up and beaten, starved and abandoned by my birth parents.”
“Daisy…” Dalton’s voice softens, his eyes wide with shock.
“I was hurt so terribly by the two people who should’ve loved me the most that I accept the bare minimum from any man I’ve dated just to feel anything other than worthless.”
“Fuck!” Dalton shouts, stepping back as cold air dashes across my skin from his sudden absence. There’s a wild, almost unhinged look in his eyes as he stares at me. “Daisy, I didn’t know…”
Gripping the hem of my skirt, I pull it back down my thighs, then press my eyes shut on the hot tears tipping over my lashes whilst the ache between my legs pulses. It’s a dichotomy of pain and pleasure that tears me in two. “Why would you? We’re not friends.” I mumble, trying to find the courage to look him in the eye.
“Daisy, I’ve been an arsehole,” he exclaims, swiping a hand through his hair as he paces up and down before me.
I wrap my arms around myself, trying and failing to seek comfort in my own arms. “All I’ve ever wanted was to be loved,” I admit shakily.
Dalton stops pacing and stares at the floor, his face contorted with regret before he eventually lifts his turbulent gaze to meet mine. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have…” he swallows hard. “I never would’ve pushed things so far had I known. I let my own demons get the better of me. I was wrong. I’m sorry.”
“Demons?” I question, my heart heavy with pain, wanting to focus on something else. Anything else. He refuses to answer, casting his gaze away. “Dalton, I need to understand,” I insist. “What’s going on with you?”
“It’s nothing compared to what you’ve been through. Daisy, why have you never said anything? Why hasn’t Drix? Fuck!”
“Tell me what hurts you Dalton, please,” I beg.
He palms his face as if he wants to hide, but I reach for him, my fingers curling around his wrists as I drag his hands away.
“My father is a cold man, emotionless, and my mother left without a backward glance when I was just a kid. I’ve not had very good role models when it comes to affection, kindness, fucking love,” he eventually admits, his voice barely above a whisper.
“Dalton…” I begin, but he shakes his head.
“I was jealous when I saw how at ease you were with Riley, how he made you smile and laugh because it only served to highlight what I lack,” he explains.
“And what’s that?” I ask softly.
“The ability to emotionally connect,” he replies, rubbing at the centre of his chest. “I can’t seem to get beyond the physical to anything deeper. Sure, I can pretend, but deep down I’m incapable, Daisy. I can’t offer a deeper, more meaningful relationship because I don’t know how. I don’t know how to love,” he adds, agony scoring deep grooves between his brows. He drops his head, his long fingers raking through his hair. I step towards him, my cheeks damp with tears, his confession stirring up a mix of emotions within me.
“Daisy?”
My head snaps around to see Drix striding towards us both. He takes one look at the tears streaming down my face and reacts.
“You motherfucker!” he yells, lifting his arm, about to throw a punch, but I step in front of Dalton, shaking my head.
“No. It isn’t what you think,” I say, pressing my hands against Drix’s chest, forcing him backwards.
“You’re crying, Daisy. He’s obviously upset you,” Drix argues, his whole body trembling with rage. “He’s supposed to be looking after you. I fucking warned him!”
“Let him hit me. I deserve it for how I’ve behaved tonight,” Dalton says, his voice low, broken sounding.
“No!” I argue, throwing a look over my shoulder at Dalton. “Go wait in the car. I need to speak with Drix alone.”
“You’d better get out of here right the fuck now, or so help me,” Drix warns.
“I’ll take your punishment, Drix,” Dalton says, stepping around me, but I turn to face him, placing my hands on his chest this time, forcing him backwards.
“Dalton, just go and wait for me in the car,” I insist, hating that their relationship has come to this, hating how crestfallen he looks, how agony bleeds across his features.
“No.”
“Please, for me?” I beg, my hand coasting up his chest, cupping his face. “We’ll talk more, just give us a moment, okay?”
“Alright, I’ll go,” Dalton agrees after a moment, his voice barely audible as he locks eyes with me. I see the shame in them, the pain and anguish.
“Go,” I urge him.
Nodding, he turns on his heel and heads towards the car. As the door slams shut behind him, I turn back to Drix. “I need you to understand something, Drix.”
“Please do not make excuses for him. I know what he’s like.”
“I agree, you do, so you also know that he has his own issues, things that up until a moment ago, I didn’t even see the truth of,” I retort.
“That’s why you’re crying?” he asks, frowning as he flicks his gaze to the man he once called his best friend.
“I’m also upset because I told him a few things about me too.”
“You told him about what happened to you as a kid?”
“A little.” I heave out a breath, swiping at my face in an attempt to regain my composure. “But not everything.”
For a moment, Drix seems to soften, his expression a mixture of concern and understanding, but then his anger flares once again. “Riley told me how he was behaving inside the bar, that’s why I came out to find you. There’s no excuse for that.”
“You’re right, and he apologised for it. He explained why he reacted the way he did. He has issues, Drix.”
“Don’t we all?” he counters.
“Yes, so you understand that he’ll need time to work through them. We both do.”
“And you want to help him to do that?”
I consider his question for a moment, and answer honestly. “Yes.”
“Daisy, I don’t think that’s?—”
“A good idea? So you think I should turn my back on him?” I challenge.
Drix pinches the bridge of his nose. “I just don’t want you to get hurt-”
“I know that,” I interrupt, “But equally, he’s clearly struggling. No one’s perfect, Drix. I’ve been unfair to him too.”
“Especially not by Dalton,” Drix continues with a sigh, rubbing the back of his neck, his voice tinged with resignation.
“I understand your concern, but I also believe that people are capable of change and growth.”
“I’ve known Dalton a long time, and truthfully, I’m not sure he can change.”
“Well, I guess we’ve got the time to find that out,” I say with a half-smile.
“And what about you? Do you think he can give you the same care and thoughtfulness in return?” Drix asks me.
“Honestly, I’ve no idea,” I admit. “But we have to find a way to live with each other. Maybe if we help each other to heal, we can at least be friends at the end of all of this.”
Drix stares at me, his expression unreadable as he collects his thoughts. “Okay.”
“Okay?”
“If you’re willing to try, then I’ll support you, but I won’t hesitate to step in if he fucks up.”
“I appreciate that,” I murmur, throwing my arms around him, hoping to God that I don’t end up regretting this decision.