Chapter 13
Sophie
I grinned, enjoying Davis’s pained expression.
"So, tell me, Elder Pruitt. What have you learned about life in your thirty-odd years on the planet?"
"You make me sound like I'm in a fucking cult," he grumbled, brow wrinkled.
I lifted my shoulder, lips twisting when Davis’s gaze followed my slipping shirt.
Teasing him was delicious. I'd never been much of a fisherwoman, but he rose to the bait beautifully.
With most people, Davis seemed to disappear, avoiding conflict and interaction in favor of his own company.
But maybe because I was a novelty, or maybe because of the underlying edge of attraction neither of us could quite deny, he studied me like he would a strange new species. One he wanted to have sex with.
I licked my lips, pleased when his gaze focused on my mouth.
Everything about Davis made me want to push his buttons harder. The man pretended to be so unyielding, but underneath it all, he was sweet. And sexy. And fun. Maybe more than he wanted to admit.
"Come on, Davis. Pretend I'm a neophyte, innocent and eager for your wisdom."
I let my gaze drop to his lap, feeling guilty for the way my thoughts strayed to where I'd really like his input. Hint: it had nothing to do with using his mouth to speak.
"I don't kick ass, and I don't kiss it. I like to consider myself an ass-free zone."
He said it so defiantly, like he expected me to argue.
It was freaking adorable. Probably not the effect he was going for, but it drew me from contemplating how much I wanted to sleep with him.
He'd be horrified if he knew I was contemplating his ass in less philosophical terms. I broke out in giggles.
"You wanna hear mine?" I asked, batting my eyelashes flirtatiously.
Slowly, Davis nodded.
"Why be moody . . . when you can shake your booty?" I punctuated the end with a shoulder shimmy, since getting to my feet to twerk was beyond my current capabilities.
Davis's eyes widened, no doubt because he was getting an extra helping of cleavage thanks to my wide-necked shirt, and I laughed.
He slapped a hand over his eyes, slowly dragging it down his face until his craggy features and stubble were bare to my gaze. "Bee, you're gonna be the death of me," he grumbled, carefully keeping his gaze above my chin.
I grinned, triumphant. "Come on, admit it, Davis, you like it." I arched a brow. "You like me. You already said as much."
After all, he didn’t give everyone silly nicknames. Just me.
I held my breath, some of my earlier uncertainty creeping in when he pursed his lips instead of responding.
I didn't know why I always chose men with an extra helping of self-restraint.
Maybe I was driven to push their boundaries.
Bad news for me – I usually found them. A smarter woman would focus on a less serious man, one with a more obvious playful side, but quitting on Davis just wasn't my style.
My sense of self-preservation was utter crap.
Going all-in too early had left me disappointed more times than I could count, but something about Davis, his steadfastness, made me hope that this time, things would be different.
"What if I'm always moody?" he asked.
"Dance with me," I demanded, pushing to my feet.
Davis wrinkled his nose. "No."
"C'mon," I pleaded, batting my eyelashes for all I was worth. "Let me prove my point."
I turned on my music app, starting a soft ballad. I swayed, wincing when I put too much weight on my foot. Maybe I played up the pain a bit. Maybe.
Davis pushed to his feet with a grumble after I stumbled for a second time, and I held back my grin with effort. "Here," he sighed, extending his hands.
Unabashedly, I launched myself at him, wrapping my arms around his thick neck, letting him take the bulk of my weight.
Davis's lashes were impossibly long up close.
His arms wrapped around me, bands of steel holding me upright.
Part of me was tempted to let myself hang or wrap my legs around his waist, but I doubted Davis would buy that it was a new dance craze he'd missed.
My sweet hermit might be out of touch with the latest trends, but he wasn't born yesterday.
I inhaled, letting my head fall to his shoulder, gazing adoringly up at him as he succumbed and started to sway from side to side. His hips rocked to the gentle beat, and I let myself go, enjoying the moment. Not even his frown could destroy my delight in being held in his arms.
The soft cotton of my pajama bottoms scraped along the rougher fabric of his jeans.
Suddenly, I was too warm in the brushed cotton, wishing I could strip down a layer.
Willing myself into a less horny frame of mind was well and good in theory, but the reality of Davis pressed against me was more than my hormones could handle.
I lifted my chin, searching his gaze for something more than indulgence.
Not that Davis wasn't sweet to accommodate my plea for a dance, but I wanted him to enjoy it too. His frown had softened into something approaching peace, and my heart stuttered. Maybe he wasn’t spinning and dipping me wildly, but his contentment, the way he made me feel cherished in his arms, sent a rush of emotion choking my throat.
Davis wasn’t showy, but he showed up for me. There was a subtle but important difference between the two, and I’d take his quiet strength over a charming flake any day.
Every day.
Forever.
Licks of flame lit me from the inside everywhere we touched.
He'd cupped my hips with his palms, leaving me very aware of how close his fingers were to my thirstiest body parts.
I'd let my fingers play at the nape of his neck, trying to keep things chaste.
What I really wanted was to let them wander, down to that ass he didn't want anyone kissing.
Before I could cross the line into utterly shameless territory, I said, "Davis," my voice sounding rusty.
He made a sound low in his chest, halfway between a grunt and growl, and any sign of my good intentions fled.
Holy fork, the man was sexy.
"Would you say you're happy right now?" I asked delicately.
Davis arched one dark brow. "I could be happier…"
The throaty way he said it made my mouth dry. His hands clenched my hips, and his nostrils flared. His gaze seemed stuck on my mouth, and I did the only thing I could think of. I pushed up on tiptoes to kiss him.
It started more as a smack than anything approaching graceful, but I leaned into my enthusiasm to make up for what I lacked in finesse.
At first, Davis stiffened, and I worried I'd misread his invitation. If he'd meant to imply he'd be happier watching paint dry than holding me close, I'd die of mortification. Thankfully, his momentary hesitation turned to hunger in a flash.
Davis grasped my chin, tilting me for a better angle. He nipped once, twice, before capturing me in a kiss that devoured the last of my hesitation.
I lost track of time and space, awash in Davis. He kissed me like his next breath could only be sipped from my lips, like he'd die without it. Without me, and I melted in his arms, trying to absorb him through every pore.
My vision darkened around the edges, and I pulled away, breathing hard. Davis dropped his forehead to mine, matching my labored breathing with his own. From my phone, a new song started, the faint notes underscoring the change between us.
"If I get much happier, it's gonna kill me," Davis muttered, squeezing my hip bones one last time in a possessive crush before releasing me.
Disappointed, I shook my head. "I promise, they only call it la petite mort. You're perfectly safe with me."
"Even if that's true, we're both going to be in peril of becoming murder victims if Jo comes home to find us shacked up in her absence."
"You think she'd object?" I asked, disappointed he thought his sister wouldn't approve.
Jo and I had been friends for a few years.
While we couldn't be more different, I didn't think she'd mind if I dated Davis.
If I had a hot older brother, I'd hook her up.
After all, what were friends for? That had to be in the Campfire sisterhood code somewhere.
I toyed with the neck of my sleep shirt, enjoying the way Davis's eyes darkened when I slipped the sleeve back up over my shoulder.
He groaned, a pained grunt that alarmed me for a moment until he wrapped me up in a bear hug, dropping his forehead to mine once more. Shameless, I pushed my hips against his, reveling in the evidence of his arousal.
"Fuck me," he muttered.
"Believe me – I'd like to," I assured solemnly. "But only if you're okay with it."
He tipped his head back, pinching the bridge of his nose, pacing away from me.
"You don't make it easy on me, do you, Bee?"
"Davis, honey, I'm not here to make your life easy."
"Truer words," he grumbled, staring me down from across the room. His chest heaved as if he were still catching his breath, and I smiled, a wicked little grin to remind him what he was missing.
"Easy and happy aren't always the same paths," I cautioned gently. “Tell me what you want.”
"You. And not just for tonight.”
I thrilled at his words. Blunt. To the point. Sure.
“But I respect my sister. I don’t want to sneak around behind her back," he said, as if it were a magic spell that would make him less horny.
The reminder of Jo did the trick, at least for me. "Me either. She's been a good friend."
“Are you ready for this? For us? There’s no going back.”
I held back a snort. He was warning me that he planned to give me almost everything I ever wanted. I’d be fine. I’d be better than fine.
“I’d rather be happy than easy,” I assured, trying to lighten his solemn expression.
He gave a huffy little sigh, playing into my glib answer. “Why not both?”
I cracked a grin, fissures of delight bubbling through me as I waited him out. Secrets had a way of backfiring, and I didn’t want anything coming between us. Going slow wouldn’t kill us, and hurting Jo wasn’t something either of us wanted.
Davis interlaced his hands at the back of his head and let out a sigh that sounded like it came from the depths of his soul. He examined me from my no-doubt-wrecked brown hair, to my pink pajamas and rosy painted toes.
"I can wait," he vowed.
I wasn't sure I could. But I'd have to. Retreating quickly seemed wise, given the pure temptation he represented, all rumpled and delicious. I scampered quickly toward Jo’s room, pausing at the door.
“So, you’ll talk to her on Wednesday when she comes home?” I called back, injecting a chipper note in my tone. "Happy isn't always easy!" I reminded him as his low grumbles reached me.
"But I can be," I added quietly to myself, grinning wildly as I grabbed my phone.
Davis had barely admitted it, but the man was mine. He could grumble all he liked, but the way he kissed me revealed more than he realized. He wanted me every bit as much as I wanted him, and for now, that was what mattered.