Page 45 of I Saw Her First

A feeling like… home.

I glance around, seeing the bathroom properly. There’s a sink, but no toilet. Instead, there seems to be some sort of table or counter, and on it sits a stack of wide trays and bottles. Above the bathtub, someone has strung a line with pegs on it. Not someone—Wes. Wes did this. This is what he wanted to show me.

I find him in the half-light, struggling to read his expression. Not because of the dimness of the space, but because he seems a little guarded.

“What… what is this?” I ask.

“A darkroom.”

“You made…”

He swallows, the sound loud in the small, quiet space. “I made it. For you.”

My breath catches in my throat. Hemadethis, forme? He made me adarkroom?

I blink, trying to make sense of this. “Why?” I ask breathlessly. My heart has taken off at a sprint, staring at the man in front of me. The man who took part of his home andturned it into something… for me. And not just something, a darkroom. He made me the one place that feels like home.

Wes shrugs, as if it’s not a big deal, but it is a big deal. It’s a huge deal. It’s the hugest fucking deal of my life.

“You were so passionate when you spoke about photography, about spending time in the darkroom when you were younger. That’s what you should be doing, Daisy. Your passion is wasted at Joe’s. I have this big house, and I thought—”

But he doesn’t get another word out, because suddenly, my lips are on his.

20

Weston

Daisy’s mouth brushes mine and the rest of the words die on my tongue. I have no need for words when my lips can speak far better like this.

But before I can say all I need to say to her, she pulls away. Her hand, which was firmly on the back of my neck, draws away shakily. Her eyes gleam as she drags in a shuddering breath. There’s something so raw and exposed in her expression that my heart burns at the sight.

“I’m sorry,” she murmurs, wiping her lips. “I shouldn’t have done that, I know. But Wes, youmade me a darkroom.” She shakes her head in disbelief. “I can’t…”

I should be relieved she’s stopped. Relieved she’s apologized, so we can put it behind us. But I’m not relieved in the slightest. Now that I’ve felt her soft mouth on mine, my blood pumps furiously through my body. My cock aches, and it was barely the briefest touch of her lips. What would it be like if I had more?

“Oh, shit,” Daisy whispers, eyes round as they examine my face.

I don’t know what I must look like right now, but if it’s anything like I feel, it’s wild and reckless. A little unhinged. And so fucking desperate for her to do it again.

“I’m so sorry.” She backs away from me, horror morphing her expression, but I grab her arm and haul her back.

“I’m not.” My voice is wrecked, a rough growl that sounds predatory. I don’t even recognize it.

Daisy’s hands land on my chest, on my thundering heart. She gazes at me, eyes wide and dark, her fingertips hot on my skin even through my sweatshirt.

“You’re not?”

“Fuck no.”

And before either of us can think better of it, I take her mouth this time. She instantly complies with my touch, turning soft and pliant in my arms. Her lips are sweet and gentle and perfect, and when her tongue nudges my mouth open, I’m all too eager to let her in. Tilting my head, I slide my tongue over hers, and every nerve ending in my body fires with need.

Daisy whimpers at the contact, her hands tightening into fists in my sweatshirt. There’s something about that response that sends urgency flooding through my system, and I bend to scoop her into my arms before setting her on the table. She gasps, looking up at me in surprise. I force myself to pause, to make sure I’m not doing anything she’s uncomfortable with, but before I can even fully form the thought, she drags my mouth back to hers.

Fuck, she kisses like nothing I’ve ever known. Like sunshine and rain rolled into one. Like innocence and depravity at the same time. Like a blessing and my biggest mistake all at once.

“Fuck, Daisy.” I’m drunk as her mouth devours mine, warm and wet, trailing from my lips, to my jaw, to my neck. My cock throbs at the way she’s trying to consume me because I know the feeling. I tighten my fist in her dark mane and tug her head back,exposing her throat. Then I drag my tongue across the sweet skin, tasting her. Her moan reverberates against my tongue, and she squirms restlessly on the counter.

“God, Weston.” She shudders. “I need you so badly.”

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