Hothouse Flower (24 page)

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Authors: Krista Ritchie,Becca Ritchie

BOOK: Hothouse Flower
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< 34 >

RYKE MEADOWS

 

What.

The.

Fuck.

I can’t stop looking at her face. Normally, this is
something that might turn me on, my cum all over her cheeks, on her lips, even
on her eyelids. Fuck, it’d make any guy harder than rock. But not now. Not when
Connor Cobalt stands in the room, closing the door as Daisy tries desperately
to wipe it from her face.

She uses both of her hands, only making it worse. Her face
flushes with embarrassment.

 
“Dais…fuck.” I pull
up my pants quickly and squat down, ignoring Connor.

Concern floods me immediately. I find my shirt on the ground
and use the soft fabric to wipe her face gently, trying to care for her and not
make her feel like a fucking porn star.

I can’t believe she pulled away right then. Bad fucking
timing.

Connor clears his throat.

“Um…I can explain,” Daisy says.

“There’s really no need,” he says with a tense voice. “I’m
well aware of what a blow job is.”

I grimace as Daisy’s cheeks turn redder.
Thanks a lot, Cobalt.
Way to make this
more fucking awkward.

I don’t turn away from her as I say, “What the fuck do you
want?” I try to brush her hair out of her face, but it’s useless. Strands are
already wet, and they stick to her cheeks. My dick actually threatens to clench
and harden but every time I see her eyes, mortified, my fucking arousal returns
to reality.

I can’t imagine what’s going through her head.

I clean her as quickly as I can, but we’re both too stunned
to move from this spot, not able to rise to wash her off in the bathroom.

“You’re both crazy,” Connor says, his deep blue eyes pinging
from me to Daisy. “You needlessly heighten the risk of your relationship every
second you do things like this. Talking about sex in the car, screwing
one
wall away from Lo and me—it’s like
you’re begging to be caught. So I’m going to give you both a friendly warning.”
He sets his gaze on me. “Tell them before they catch you or tone it down. I
could have
easily
been Lo, and I can
promise you, his wrath will be ugly.”

I thought we were being fucking careful, but in the moment,
we don’t pay much attention. We’re used to flirting with boundaries, and now
that we’ve kicked some over, it’s messing with my fucking head. I know this
can’t last forever. Definitely not the year and a half like we planned. But
maybe for a few more months at least. We just need some time—especially before we
have to deal with all the people who hate the idea of us together.

“And you couldn’t wait until the fucking morning to tell us
that?” I growl.

“You were getting loud,” Connor says flatly, not smiling. “You
can thank me later.” He looks down at Daisy, making her whole body stiffen. I
notice I missed a spot by her hairline. My stomach knots as I use my shirt to
wipe at it, knowing she’s going to fucking hate that it’s still on her.
 

“I hope this is different than your other relationships,”
Connor tells her sincerely.
Fuck him.

“You’re really going to fucking go there?” I ask, my body
pulsing with anger. I’m not like those other douchebags. The first time she
goes down on me and he walks in. It makes me seem like a fucking dick, but it’s
also bad fucking luck.

“Yes,” he says, “I’ve actually seen her leave a bedroom
after doing something similar with Julian.”

Her ex-boyfriend’s name literally lights my core. I clench
my fists, wanting to punch the shit out of him. I don’t want to think about his
cock in her mouth or even his cock fifteen feet from her body. I want that
image fucking
gone.
And of course,
Connor brings it up just to rile me. I shake my head, restraining the urge to
throw a fist in the wall. I decide to leave for the bathroom instead, my anger
spinning around me as I grab a washcloth and run it under the sink.

When I return to the room, I hear Daisy say, “
Ryke’s
not like the other guys, Connor.”

I shoot Connor a glare. “Can you just be fucking embarrassed
right now? How are you still standing here?”

“I’ve never been embarrassed in my life,” he says. Everything
that comes out of his mouth—I’d like to strangle. He’s so fucking annoying.

I bend down and start rubbing the warm washcloth on her cheeks,
holding her chin steady with my other hand. “Oh yeah?” I ask, my eyes flitting
to Connor’s. “What about if Daisy saw you fucking? How embarrassed would you be
then?” This isn’t going to lead anywhere good, but I’m so fucking sick of him
thinking he’s a god. Like he can’t be touched. I want him to feel at least an
ounce of the embarrassment that he’s caused Daisy.

Her eyes go wide. “I’d be embarrassed,” she says to me,
kicking my ankle hard. She mouths,
Stop.

So that plan wasn’t fully fucking thought out. I grit my
teeth, fucking pissed by everything. Julian being brought into the conversation
did not help.

Connor raises his brows. “Did she watch those tapes?” He
sounds more surprised than affronted.

I keep my mouth shut this time, rubbing the cloth along her
forehead, concentrating on her.

“On accident,” she blurts out. “I tried not to look, I
promise.” I haven’t even seen those tapes, but I’m sure it’d be more awkward
for her. It’s her sister and her brother-in-law in them. She clutches my shoulder
like all of these facts are going to shrivel her from humiliation. I console
her the best I can, caressing her head with my right hand and wiping the rest
of my cum off her face with the other.

Connor stays quiet, unreadable, which makes this so much
worse for her.

When I finish, I stand to scrutinize Connor’s reaction. But
it gives me nothing, so I have to ask, “How do you feel now, Cobalt?”

“Disturbed,” Connor says calmly. “A little worried too. I
didn’t think it’d be that easy to stumble onto our porn.” He looks to Daisy,
his brows now furrowing. “What site were you on?”

“I fucking hate you,” I deadpan. “Seriously.” I wanted that
satisfying moment where we arrive on an even playing field. She saw him naked.
He saw
this.
But Connor refuses to
give us that triumph. We’re left with this fucking awkwardness, no matter what.

Connor pulls out his cellphone like he’s going to make a
note of the site.

“I can’t remember, Lily suggested it,” she mumbles.

I freeze with Connor. Lily shouldn’t be watching porn, and
if she is…well that would be considered a relapse in the sex addiction recovery
handbook.

Daisy’s eyes widen like
what
did I say?

“Is she watching porn again?” Connor asks.

“No. She just recommended the site when I asked. No need to
go postal, guys. You know she hates when everyone overreacts. Last month,
you…”
She points at me accusingly,
defending her sister. “…barged into her bathroom just because she was taking a
little longer. Do you know how embarrassing that is?”

Yeah, I know, I was there. Her face turned into a giant
fucking tomato and she screamed at me. But I’d rather embarrass her ten times
over than have the alternative happen—relapse or worse…suicide. It’d kill my
brother. It’d kill all of us. And I’ve seen her at her worst, when she was in a
bathroom out of her fucking mind, and I often wonder what would have happened
if I didn’t barge in.
 
 

None of us will take that chance.

Connor lets out a sigh. “I’ll text her later. You.” He looks
at me. “Return to our room. I don’t want Lo finding out about your
quasi-relationship like this. You.” He turns to Daisy. “Don’t let
Ryke
come on your face again.”
Fucking A.

“Fuck off, Cobalt.” I push him out the door, aggressively,
wanting so bad to remove that fucking smile on the edge of his lips. I settle
with closing the door on his face. When I spin around, Daisy stands to her
feet.

“Has this happened to you before?” she asks, her eyes rising
to mine. My cum on a girl’s face.
No.
Never.
And I never even thought about it until now.

I’m so fucking sorry,
Dais.
I know she didn’t like it. I know it’s not something that should have
happened tonight.

“You’re the fucking first,” I tell her.

“Me too,” she says, trying hard not to smile. Now that
Connor is gone, there’s a lightness in her eyes, a laughter that bubbles up and
tears away the tension from the situation. I walk over and cup the back of her
head, my fingers running through her hair. She lets out a breath. She likes
this.

“I’m sorry, Calloway.”

“I like you on me.”

I give her a look. “Not like that.”

“Not like that, but…it was an experience.” She grins.

Connor may not believe we’re in a real relationship, but I’m
glad we’re starting out like this, to relish in all these little fucking
moments before we get to the one she’s waiting for—the one I crave. But despite
what anyone says, this fucking works for us right now.

 

 

< 35 >

DAISY CALLOWAY

 

I exit the motel shower, basking in the warm water
before we start camping-camping. With real tents and campfires and everything
that makes my heart flutter in excitement. As I pull on a shirt that says
this
ain’t
paris
, I glance up once and meet the television. My
smile fades, and my whole body goes rigid.

Sara Hale is on the screen.

Ryke’s
mom.

A news segment shows clips of the
60 Minutes
interview that aired last night.
Ryke’s
mom faces a reporter, her golden-brown hair straightened. I strain my ears to
pick up her words. “What I did was not a malicious attack on the Calloway
family.”

“But you sold the information about Lily Calloway’s sex
addiction to magazines, did you not?”

“Yes, but I wasn’t trying to hurt that girl. I was just
tired of hiding the truth. You have to understand that I spent
years
protecting Jonathan
Hale’s
infidelity. The only way to expose him was to put
Jonathan under a spotlight. I only saw one way to achieve that, and I apologize
for whatever emotional hurt I caused Lily. But she was linked to Loren, his
son. She was tangled in a very complicated family dispute.”

“You sound as though she was cannon fodder.”

“Again, I apologize if it seems that way.” Sara pauses and
stares at her hands with solemnity, but she has a hardness behind her eyes, a
toughness that combats the softness. “As a mother, I was torn daily. I had to
hide my real son, and I was forced to act like Loren was my child. I just
wanted to be free of Jonathan, and I wanted my son to be free too.”

“But were you really forced?” the reporter asks. “You signed
the divorce agreement. You knew what you were complying to.”

“At the time, I was a single mother, young and confused. I
was scared, and I did what I thought was best for my son.”


Ryke
.”

“Yes,
Ryke
.”

Someone shifts in the open doorway that connects the
adjoining motel rooms. I look over.

Ryke
. His eyes are dark and set on
the screen like he’s been watching for a little bit. His hair is wet from
taking a shower in the other bathroom. After Connor’s warning last night, he
went back to their bedroom. And I didn’t even make him check the locks before
he left. I’m trying my best to overcome that fear.

It must be almost time to hit the road again, and I’m sure
he came to fetch me, but his gaze stays on the television screen.

Sara straightens up in her chair. “I realize now that I only
hurt him through the divorce agreement.”

Ryke
runs a hand through his wet
hair and walks further into the room, his eyes falling to the ground as he
searches the floor for the remote.

“Don’t you want to listen to what she has to say?” I ask
him, packing my comb in my duffel.

“It’s a fucking media ploy to make herself look better.”

“How can you be so sure?” I ask.

Ryke
turns to face me. I’m not
scared of him at all, and I don’t think he wants me to be. But his eyes flash
hot, with anger so deep-seated that it’s hard to look at. “She sounds like she
rehearsed her answers. She doesn’t fucking talk that formal.”

I frown. “Really? My mom sounds like that.”

“Mine doesn’t. She’s emotional. If she was real, she’d be
crying or yelling. She wouldn’t hold back and be stone-faced.” He gestures to
the television. “The only time I’ve seen her like that is when she’s trying to
impress her wealthy fucking friends.”

This is the most he’s ever talked about his mom with me. I
watch as he searches for the remote, but it’s with less diligence, his gaze
faraway as his thoughts spin.

“Do you miss her?” I ask him.

 
He finds one of my
shirts on the ground and tosses it to me. “Sometimes, but it doesn’t fucking
matter, Dais.”

I stuff the shirt in my duffel pocket. “But she’s your mom…”
I can’t imagine never talking to mine again. Even if there are times I’d like
to run away from her, running away forever sounds painful.
 

He shakes his head. “I can’t live in your fucking optimistic
world where everyone is kind and holy. I’ve seen too many bad people to believe
there’s that many good.”

“She can change though—” I start, wanting something better
for him. I wish I could take his problems and
uncomplicate
them, even if I can’t. It hurts to feel like I have no control over it.

“Change what, Daisy?” He shrugs. “She already ruined Lily’s
life,” he states matter-of-factly, but his eyes are dark. “She ruined
your
life and Rose’s. And she broke my
fucking heart. It’s fucking over.”

I swallow hard, a lump in my throat. “She didn’t ruin my
life,” I say softly.

Ryke
glares. “Don’t even fucking
start.” Because he’s seen me scream at night, he’s watched me turn into a scared,
frightened girl. And the catalyst for everything was Sara Hale.

“I wouldn’t be upset if you tried to have a relationship
with her,” I add. “I just need you to know that.”

He surrenders his search for the remote and walks forward,
his hands brushing my cheeks. “Thank you,” he says with a short nod. “But it
won’t change anything.”

I nod back, not sure what else to say. My throat closes.

Off my silence, his features darken, his brows furrowing. “I
just can’t forgive her,” he tells me. “For some fucking reason, it feels more
like a weakness than a strength to open my arms to her.”

“Even if you miss her?”

He nods. “Yeah. Even if I miss her. So that’s where I’m at.”
He kisses my head. “Don’t worry too much about my family problems, Dais. It’s
my shit. I really don’t want you in the middle of it.”

I look up at him. “I’m glad that you want to talk to me
though.”

He gives me a confused look. “Why wouldn’t I want to?”

My age.

The pieces must click because he says, “We wouldn’t be together
right now if I thought you were too immature to talk to about this stuff.”

My lips begin to rise, but a reporter at a news desk cuts
into our conversation, “Sara Hale has no evidence that either
Ryke
Meadows or Loren Hale was sexually or physically
assaulted by their father. Although, she did say it’s possible both happened to
Loren during his residence at his father’s home in Philadelphia. You can learn
more about this ongoing case on our website…”

Ryke
is on the hunt for the remote
again, and before the reporter gives any contact info he finally finds it and
shuts the television off.

I don’t ask what he knows about the whole ordeal. I can tell
that he’s through talking about it. I was lucky enough to get what I did out of
him today.

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