“I love every inch of you,” he says, his voice thick. “Every joy in your heart and every mistake in your past. I love you, Daisy. All of you.”
I’m crying again, and he stands, pulling me against him. He kisses the tears from my eyelids before kissing my lips again. He walks me backward until the backs of my knees hit the bed, and then we’re falling into the mattress, Daltrey on top of me, his lips trailing paths of fire across my cheek, my collarbone, my breasts. I struggle to free him from his T-shirt, my hands getting tangled in the fabric until he helps me.
Once he’s pulled off his shirt, he hovers over me, his bare skin inches away. I run my trembling fingers up over his belly. The muscles contract at my touch until I reach his chest. And then I register what I’m seeing. An unfamiliar tattoo, a small, simple flower I’ve never seen. One he must have gotten in our year a part.
A single daisy, right over his heart.
“Daltrey.”
He smiles down at me, but there’s pain in his eyes. “I told you, you always had me. No matter what.”
I reach for his face, needing his lips on me, and he eagerly complies. My entire mind is focused on him, my whole heart caught up in his movements, his kisses, his fingers. He unbuttons my jeans and pulls down the zipper. When his fingers slip into my panties and brush against me, I cry out and grab his shoulders. I come hard, just from his touch.
He smiles down at me, the most beautiful, triumphant grin I’ve ever seen. “We’re going to be so good together, Daisy. I’ve always known it.”
I can only continue to cling to him, knowing I’ll be lost if I let go. He kisses me while he removes first my jeans and then his own. Kisses me while he tugs my panties down. Kisses me while he slides deep inside of me, finding the place he should have always been.
“I love you,” I gasp, looking up at him. He’s gorgeous, moving inside of me, so much concentration and joy and ache in his face. I tell him so. “You’re beautiful.”
He gives a short laugh. “You have no idea what beauty is, Daisy.” His eyelids flutter closed. “My Daisy.”
He’s wrong, though. I do know beauty, because I know what it is to love him, this kind, loyal, talented, passionate man. There’s never been beauty like him. I lived in the world without him, colorless and cold, for far too long to doubt that.
I try to tell him, but I can’t form words. It feels too good, Daltrey on top of me and inside me, surrounding me, overwhelming me with his body and his kisses and his whispers of love. I can only whisper his name as I hold him and fall into oblivion, him right behind me.
Chapter Twenty-three
Daisy
I wake up to bright light, which is strange because Karen is fanatical about shutting the blinds before she goes to sleep. I open one eye. A heavy arm is draped across my waist, a tattooed arm that most definitely does not belong to Karen or Paige.
Everything that happened last night comes back to me in a rush. Kissing Daltrey at the Empire State building. Coming back here and telling him everything. The way he held me and told me that he loved me, how we kissed, how his hands felt on every inch of my body.
Holy shit! I slept with Daltrey last night. After years of dreaming about him, wishing for him, it had actually happened. He said he loved me, that he wanted me, and we had sex.
“You awake?” he whispers.
I turn slightly and look up to see him smiling down at me. “Good morning,” I whisper, my cheeks going hot.
His grin grows, taking on a bit of an arrogant turn. “Good morning. You’re pretty when you blush.”
I smack his arm. “No teasing.”
He grabs my hand and pulls me against his body. “Oh, there will be plenty of teasing. Just like there’s always been.”
I snuggle into him, kissing his shoulder. “I guess that’s okay with me.”
“Nothing’s going to change, Daisy. You and I will continue to be best friends who tease each other and have ridiculous amounts of fun together. Only now there will be more kissing.”
I laugh against his chest. “I can handle that.” I yawn loudly. “What time is it, anyhow?”
“It’s pretty early. Go back to sleep.”
“When do you need to get up?”
“We have a band meeting in a few hours. I’ll try not to wake you.”
“It’s okay,” I murmur, warmth from his body spreading through me. “I don’t mind if you wake me up.”
I try to stave off sleep for as long as I can, enjoying the feeling of his bare skin against mine far too much to want to miss a moment of it. But it’s so comfortable here in his bed, his fingers brushing through my hair. And after all of our walking and all of the emotional purging of yesterday, I’m pretty tired.