Chapter 8
CHAPTER EIGHT
Daisy had to practically run to keep up with Diego’s long-legged stride down the dock. She laughed breathlessly. “In a hurry?”
Since his answer was a low, nearly inaudible growl, she went from amused to almost having an orgasm in zero point four seconds. At his boat, he physically lifted her up and in, following so closely they were touching the whole time.
“On the top deck?” she asked hopefully, thinking about how it might feel to be pinned beneath him, the stars above, the sounds of the water surge slapping up against the boat…
“No,” he said. “Below deck.” He had a grip on her, tugging her to the stairs.
“But—”
He guided her down, then pressed her up against the door without turning on a light. “Another time beneath the stars,” he promised. “Tonight, I have plans.”
“Plans?”
“Yes, and they involve making you cry out my name over and over again. And call me selfish, but that…that sound from your lips, Daisy, is for me alone.”
Her bones liquified. But that was okay because Diego had her. He had her against the door, held there by his big body while shutting out the rest of the world. She felt him nibble her throat and had to laugh breathlessly. She was already halfway to crying out his name.
Then his hands were in her hair, his mouth on hers, not a single space between them. His body was deliciously hard. Everywhere.
Then, suddenly, he pulled back from her.
Without notice, she was alone. She opened her eyes, but she couldn’t see a damn thing, not even a faint outline of him.
The only light came from a narrow line of moonlight slanting vertically down the middle of the bed and the floor, ending at her feet. “Diego?”
He stepped into the shaft of moonlight. Wordlessly, he tugged his shirt over his head and dropped it on the floor.
He was gorgeous bathed in the glow, his lean, tough muscles rippling with his every movement, his body reminding her of a sleek, powerful, tatted-up cat. A wild one.
She heard the dull thud of his boots hitting the floor. The rest of his clothes followed, and he turned to her, making her swallow hard.
Mine, she thought.
“Now you,” he said. But before Daisy could, he came to her and turned her away from him, placing her hands on the wall.
He slowly unzipped her dress, nudging it off her shoulders and past her hips before leaning his body into hers and pressing his mouth to her shoulder.
Her bra fell away like magic as he kissed and nibbled his way to the crook of her neck, the column of her throat, and then he was at her ear.
“I can’t wait to be inside you again,” he said.
“The way you pant my name drives me insane.”
It was a good thing he was holding her up. But then he wasn’t. He’d dropped to his knees to unzip and pull off her boots. Then her tights. When his fingers hooked in her panties, she made a sound, and then another when he slid them down.
“I…can’t stand,” she managed.
Far more adaptable in any given situation than she was, he rose to his feet and took her with him to the bed.
She hit the mattress on her back, and he followed her down.
Their gazes met and locked, and in his eyes, she saw the things that hopes and dreams were made of.
Her heart rate spiked. Feeling emotionally exposed, she actually tried to look away until she realized that the vulnerability she saw reflected back wasn’t hers, but his.
Cupping his jaw, she whispered his name, and then he was inside her.
Their bodies moved together as if they’d been built for each other, hips surging and retreating in sync.
She never wanted this to end. His weight holding her down, how he looked at her when he brushed the hair from her face, his hand reaching for and gripping hers tightly on the pillow beside her head.
It all combined as wordless pleas and demands that tumbled from her lips.
“I’ve got you,” he said. “I promise.”
The sweet words uttered so roughly cascaded through her. Arching up, she came, shuddering into him. Somehow, she managed to open her eyes because she didn’t want to miss a single second.
His head was back, the cords of his neck taut, his entire body strung tightly, his hands gripping hers hard as he finally let himself come, her name on his lips.
Diego came awake the next morning to find Daisy sprawled across him, one leg thrown over his, her arm heavy across his abs, a hand gripping his biceps, face pressed into his chest. Her hair tickled his face, and he was pretty sure she was drooling on him a little bit.
Carefully, he slid out from under her. Still deeply asleep, she murmured her displeasure and snuggled into the spot he’d vacated, never waking up.
He had a ridiculously primal response, knowing that he’d put her into a near coma. With a smile he couldn’t tame, he made coffee and whipped up some bacon and eggs. Breakfast of champions.
Daisy still hadn’t so much as budged by the time he finished, so he leaned against the counter and drank his coffee, content to just watch her sleep.
On the counter at his side, her smartphone screen lit up as an email came in. Another guy, a better guy, would’ve probably looked away. And Diego started to, but the subject line caught his eye: Daisy’s and Poppy’s Grand NYC Venture.
And…because of the way she had her settings, he could see the first two lines of the email.
Hey hon! I put together the budget we talked about for the new business AND I found a few places right here in NYC that are actually available and almost, sort of, in our budget. Both attached, hurry up and move back!
Diego had to set his mug of hot coffee down before he dropped it. Her phone went dark, but he didn’t need to see the email again. Last night, she’d said things. Like the soft, sweetly uttered, “I missed you…” and, “I want you to stay…”
What the hell had that been about if she’d known she was moving back to New York?
It was such a terrible, awful instant replay of what had happened the first time they’d been together.
Once again, he’d fallen in love with her.
And once again, it’d thrown his world into turmoil.
Love always did. It took all the power from him and gave it to someone whose decisions could affect his life in a negative way.
Like his dad. Like Rocco. Like Daisy—for the second time.
Apparently, he was a slow learner, but he finally got it. He was done with this. Done with love.