Daisy by Gemma Weir

Author:Gemma Weir [Weir, Gemma]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Archer's Creek: Book Two
Publisher: Gemma Weir
Published: 2018-04-14T18:30:00+00:00

“Yes,” she sighs breathlessly.

I laugh. “I aim to please.”

Rolling onto my back, I pull her against my side and hold her close. My cock is rock hard, and I need to calm down enough to get it back under control.

She’s a fucking virgin. It’s really not a surprise, but still, hearing it come from her lips makes it real. A fucking virgin. Untouched. Far too good for me to sully, but fuck if I don’t want her. I want to peel that tiny skirt from her and pull down the white cotton panties that I know are underneath. I want to stroke and lick and touch her perfect virgin pussy knowing that I’m the first person to do it.

I’m getting in too deep with her. When she’d asked me to run with her, for a minute I wanted to say yes. I still want to say yes. But I won’t turn my back on the only people I’ve ever called family for a woman, not even a woman like Angel.

My breathing slowly starts to return to normal and I slide my hand up to tangle in Angel’s hair. I turn my head toward her and watch as her fingers absentmindedly play with the fabric of my shirt. “I like you here with me. In my arms and in my bed. Stay with me, for however long you’re in Archer’s Creek I want you here with me. Promise me you’ll stay with me.”

Her fingers stop moving and she stretches her arm across my stomach and turns closer into my body. “I want that too.”

“Then no matter what, you stay with me. I want you to feel safe, I know what it’s like to be scared and I fucking hate you’ve lived like that,” I say, forcing my body to stay relaxed and not react to the anger that’s starting to swell within me.

“What made you scared?” she whispers.

“I’ve lived in a lot of places, Angel. Not all of them were nice. In an ideal world, the foster care system would be full of caring people, but sometimes it’s just a place for sick and twisted fuckers to hide in plain sight.”

Neither of us speaks. Sometimes there’s nothing to say and talking about it doesn’t always make it better. The TV murmurs in the background, but I don’t watch it. Instead I drop my chin on top of Angel’s head and close my eyes. The feeling of her chest rising and falling as she silently breathes lulls me to sleep and I dream of a beautiful Angel that changes everything.

A quiet knock at the door wakes me. Lifting my head I take in the sleeping figure of Angel. She’s lying on top of me. Her head is in the middle of my chest and her legs are entangled between mine. She’s so tiny she fits perfectly, and my arms are wrapped around her holding her close to me.

There’s another knock at the door, so I carefully move Angel off my chest and onto the quilt beside me.

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