Hothouse Flower (Calloway Sisters 2)

She gives amazing head.

But that didn’t feel right. And I usually don’t jump into things when my gut says no.

I shake hands with the sales person, and I step back out into the parking lot. Sunglasses on, shielding the bright afternoon light from my eyes. The wind picks up and I pull my leather jacket tighter. It’s getting fucking cold. But what do you expect from October?

Daisy walks out of the gas station next to the dealership. She eats a Little Debbie brownie, a shopping bag hung over her right arm while wearing bright blue, flower-shaped sunglasses that I’ve never seen. They look like cheap plastic, but they’re really fucking cute on her.

She waves when she sees me and starts walking over.

“Miss me?” she asks.

“I was fucking devastated.”

“You look it.” She nods, and I hook a finger on her plastic bag and peer into it. Hair dye. Lots of it. I spot pink and purple. I glance up at her, and she looks a little worried. Maybe she thinks I won’t be into her if she dyes her hair. But I don’t fucking care about shit like that.

Hair color. Skin color. Big. Small.

I like her. Not the body she comes in.

“Are you indecisive?” I wonder. “It looks like you have the rainbow in there.”

“Precisely.” She smiles, licking the chocolate off her fingers. “Unicorns love rainbows. I love unicorns. Therefore thy hair must be a rainbow.”

“Interesting fucking theory.” I start walking further down the parking lot and she follows me.

“One of my best?” She catches up to my side.

“No it’s fucking stupid.”

“It can’t be interesting and stupid. Those are exclusive.”

“You sound like Rose.” As soon as I say the words, she brightens. I know she looks up to her sisters, and in a way she reminds me a little bit of both of them. The rest of her is just Daisy. Just wild.

We stop by a black sportbike that I just bought from the dealership. Like I said, we can’t ride in a car anymore. I have the means to buy a motorcycle to appease Daisy’s restless state, so I’m going to fucking do it.

“We’re riding together?” she asks me with a smile.

“Yeah.” I take her plastic bag and shove it into my backpack. “You okay with that, sweetheart?”

“Will you let me drive some?”

“I’d let you do whatever you want, as long as you pay attention so we don’t fucking highside.” Last thing I need is for her to fly off the fucking bike.

“What about lowside?” She’s already done that once before: slid off the back of the motorcycle while it raced off without her.

“How about we don’t ever fucking crash?”

“But if I crash,” she says, slinging her leg over the seat. “I’d rather crash with you.”

My brows rise and she smiles bigger, brighter, pulling her scar. “You tell that to all the guys you’ve hooked up with?” I ask her.

“No,” she says, “because you’re the only one I’ve dated who rides motorcycles.”

I shake my head. “Your list of pickup lines, sweetheart, is insane. And I fucking swear you’ve used most of them on me.”

“I have?” she says, eyeing my muscles with a little more desire than before. I can tell she’s remembering the tent, when we had sex for the first time. “Looks like they worked.” Her eyes flicker to mine. “I have you.”

Her bedroom eyes are going to fuck me over like they never have before. I toss her a white helmet, not alleviating the moment. With us, the tension will probably stick around for seven whole days.

Everyone is taking their time driving to Canyonlands, so yeah, we have a week.

A week alone with Daisy.

For the first time, we’re going to see how we are as a couple. No restraint. Very little boundaries.

I sense the excitement.

But I also see the trouble.

DAISY CALLOWAY

I don’t mind when I ride behind Ryke, on the same seat, not the one steering or revving the throttle. He speeds as much as I would on a two-lane highway with very little traffic and no hills in sight. The farm lands we pass remind me that we’re in the Midwest, heading towards Utah at a leisurely pace.

If he’s tired from sleeping even less than me, he doesn’t show it. I wrap my arms around his waist, still entranced by him even though we’re together. I’m drawn to Ryke the way penguins waddle in a group, one following the other, rarely all alone. He’s masculine and tough and someone who chooses to feed my needs first and his second. I thought he’d want a twenty-nine-year-old, big breasted girl with lots of makeup and a tight bandaged dress.

Not eighteen, flat-chested, no makeup and ratty jeans and a loose fitting tee.

He keeps a lot in his head, and that’s partly the reason I like him. The mystery of his actions. The danger he wears in his dark eyes.

The motorcycle suddenly slows down to the side of the highway. I scan the area, just rows and rows of cornstalks, way taller than me. I take my helmet off at the same time as him. He climbs off the bike, not saying a word, but I watch him with pure intrigue, my curiosity peaking.

“Why’d we stop?” I ask.

I think I might know why. This week is already crazy for us. Our first unrestrained time together, and like I had always fantasized, we’re making up for the years we wasted on waiting.

He turns off the ignition and kicks out the stand while I’m still on the bike. And then his eyes meet mine, and they start a slow descent down my body, his chest rising in a deep, lustful inhale.

I smile. “You want to fuck me?”

With that darkness, he says, “I want to fuck you.”

Ohhhhh. The spot between my leg pulses. I climb off the bike and start to walk backwards while he follows me.

The cornstalks brushing my face as I enter the field. I want him to chase me. “Do you think you can catch me?” I ask in a silky breath.

He almost smiles. “I’ll give you a head start.”

I grin and then I spin around and take off, my blood pumping, my heart racing, my hands whipping through the stalks as I pass.

It’s beautiful. The sun is hoisted in the perfectly blue sky, clouds rolling over to cool the heat. A gentle breeze. This is a moment that you’d find in your dreams—a place that you’d never think you’d be.

And Ryke took me here.

I don’t know how far I go, but it’s not long before he finds me, scooping me up in his arms and kissing me with aggressive, thirsty passion. I kiss back with the same vigor, a cry escaping as his body melds with mine. I lift off his shirt and unbutton his pants with excitement, and then he starts to slow down. When his lips part from mine, I sense that he’s stuck inside his head.

“What?” I ask, using the extra time to give much needed oxygen to my lungs.

“It’s just something I’ve been thinking about…”

This doesn’t sound good. “It’s not about the… period stuff, is it?” Shut up, Daisy. “I’m on birth control. Everything’s fine now, you know that.”

“Dais, it’s not that.” He draws me to his chest and whispers in my ear, “Have you let a guy go down on you before?”

I don’t want him to think I’m inexperienced or too young to love. But I also don’t want to lie, so I try to brush this one off. “Have you let a guy go down on you?” I ask him the same question with a playful smile.

“No,” he says. He tilts my chin up so I’m looking at him. I didn’t even realize I was avoiding his gaze. “It’s okay if you haven’t.”

“It’s not that I haven’t wanted to,” I explain, courage building to tell him the truth. “It’s just that no guy has offered before.”

His jaw hardens in a severe line, really sexy even if he’s half pissed at these phantom guys that exist in my past. He ends up unbuttoning my shorts, staring down at me with a new determination. “Did someone offer to backdoor you?”

Ack…this answer, I don’t like i