Page 35 of Pushing Daisy
Daisy huffs. “Seriously, I can’t. I just can’t.”
“You can’t what?” Sloan asks, stepping toward her.
Daisy steps back, trying to keep the distance between them. “I can’t do this with you.”
“Why?” Sloan says, stepping toward her again, causing Daisy to step back, hitting her back against the wall. Lowering her voice seductively, she continues, “There is clearly some tension between us. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to let it out. Maybe if you get out of your head for a few minutes, you could think clearly and see how good this partnership could be.”
Sloan stands toe-to-toe with Daisy. Daisy’s chest rises rapidly as her breathing changes. Her eyes dip down briefly to Sloan’s lips as she licks them.
Sloan takes the small step needed to close the gap between them, placing a foot between Daisy’s, making room for her thigh to press against Daisy’s core as she leans in. She whispers in Daisy’s ear while a hand trails her arm. “I could make you forget about everything bouncing around in that beautiful head of yours.”
Daisy swallows.
Sloan’s lips find the crook of Daisy’s neck. She lightly kisses the soft skin, breathing deeply, taking in the scent of cherry and almond. Daisy’s head tilts to the side as she releases a small whimper. “See. I think you need some tension release.” Sloan’s hand stops at Daisy’s breast, cupping it gently as she runs a thumb over the peaked nipple she can feel through Daisy’s bra and shirt. Daisy pushes her chest into Sloan’s hand as her hips press firmly against Sloan’s thigh.
Leaning into the contact, Sloan adjusts her thigh, providing more pressure. The way Daisy’s body fits against hers is perfection as if they were meant for each other.
Daisy’s hands land on Sloan’s shoulders as she nips at Daisy’s neck, groaning into Sloan’s ear. Goddess, that sound is intoxicating. She nips her neck again, earning another groan, and it sends a pool of heat to Sloan’s already wet pussy. Fucking hell. This was not her intent when she came up here to talk, but if it helps to get Daisy to see reason and to finally let her in, she’ll fucking take it.
“Sloan,” Daisy whimpers.
“Yes, darling?”
“We…” Daisy says, her breath hitching as Sloan’s hand moves from Daisy’s breast down her stomach to the top of her pants and slides inside the front of them. She swallows.
“Tell me to stop, and I will.” Sloan’s hand finds the apex of Daisy’s thighs and slides a finger down her seam. “You’re so wet for me.”
Daisy pushes off the wall toward Sloan, making her step back awkwardly, creating a small space between them. She pulls Sloan’s hand from her pants. “No. Stop. We shouldn’t. We can’t.”
The rejection stings. But she raises her finger to her mouth and tastes them, licking Daisy’s wetness from them. Sloan’s head tilts back, her eyes closing in pleasure. Holy fucking Hecate, she’s delicious. “I think you want to, but you’re scared. I’m not what you should be scared of.”
Daisy’s eyes widen at Sloan. “We have yoga,” she says, her voice turning breathy and strained before she grabs her bag off the bed and launches herself into the bathroom, closing the door quickly behind her and locking it.
CHAPTER 19
Sloan
Sloan’s eyes follow the bounce of Daisy’s ass the entire walk to the yoga studio. Between watching her gloriously plump booty and the taste of her still on her tongue, she is about to rub the seam of her leggings over her own pussy just to try and find some release.
This. Whatever this is between her and Daisy, or at least from her to Daisy, is unexpected. Daisy is frustrating and stubborn. She’s scared and secretive. But she’s also been quite funny. And fucking hell is she gorgeous.
She has curves for days, and Sloan wants nothing more than to spend the rest of their time together learning every dip, bump, and valley. Her desire to find out what the hollow of her neck tastes like is so overwhelming that Sloan misses what the staff tells them before entering the studio.
“Sorry.” She swallows. “Can you repeat that?”
“I was saying that we have mats you can borrow in the far corner of the room and that you should spray them down afterward with our sanitizer.”
“Oh. Yes. Okay.”
Daisy looks back at her, her eyebrows furrowed in suspicion. “You alright there?” she asks as if Sloan didn’t have her hand down Daisy’s pants five minutes ago.
“Yeah. I’m good,” she responds, pretending she didn’t have her hand down Daisy’s pants five minutes ago. As if she doesn’t know what Daisy tastes like and that she doesn’t want more.
Entering the studio, Sloan selects a space along the back row while Daisy chooses one directly in front of her. This is going to be torture, she thinks as Daisy bends over to lay out the mat she picked up from the big bin in the corner. Sloan selects her own purple and white mat, moves back to her selected space, and unrolls it. She takes off her socks and shoes and leaves them next to the mat with her water bottle and phone before sitting on the mat and crossing her legs. Resting her hands on her thighs, she closes her eyes and rolls her head from one side to the other as she slows her breathing, letting the soothing music help ground her.
A soft male voice speaks from the front of the room, calling their attention. Opening her eyes, she’s surprised to find that the room is mostly full.
“Good afternoon, my beautiful souls,” the male says. From where she sits, he looks to be at least part fae.
