Page 87 of Made for Mayhem

Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes blown wide. “Then show me.”

I didn’t hesitate. My hands slipped beneath her hoodie, lifting it over her head.

Underneath, she was barely dressed—sports bra, tiny shorts, all warm skin and vulnerability that I’d gotten peaks of in her adrenaline-fueled rage. But seeing her like this, spread out before me?

My breath punched out of me.

“Daisy…” My voice went rough. “Do you have any idea what you do to me?”

“Off,” she whispered, lifting her hips. “Take them off.”

I flattened my palm over her instead, feeling the heat of her through the fabric, the way she moved against me.

It damn near tore me apart.

But something in me held. Not because I didn’t want it, but because I wanted it all.

“Not today,” I murmured, kissing her again, slower this time. “Not like this.”

Her breath shuddered. “Then when?”

She trembled when I pulled her closer, when my forehead pressed to hers.

“Haven’t I waited long enough?”

“Daisy,” I groaned, kissing her like I could pour everything into it—every missed chance, every night I’d wondered what would have happened if I hadn’t walked away.

Her fingers slid into my hair. “What are you waiting for?”

The words lit something fierce inside me.

“I want you so fucking bad,” I rasped. “But I want to take my time. I want to do this when it isn’t grief and adrenaline holding the wheel.”

Her eyes flickered, softening even through the want. I kissed down her throat, then over the thin fabric of her bralette, testing every inch of my restraint with each little moan she let go.

“Please, Ty. Make me forget,” she begged, her core grinding down on me in search of friction. “Get me out of my head.”

The tremble in her voice almost did me in, confused by what the right thing to do here was.

She dragged my face back up to hers, pupils blown out and full of need.

She was fucking stunning, so beautiful I couldn’t look away. Couldn’t remember why this was⁠—

A car horn blared outside the window, echoing off the kitchen walls.

We both jolted.

Daisy blinked, dazed, like she’d been dropped back into her body too fast. Her hand slid from my chest, leaving heat in its wake. “What was that?”

I swallowed hard, trying to find my voice. “Delivery truck, maybe.”

Another honk, followed by the sound of car doors.

Her cheeks flushed pink, her gaze darting to the window before landing on the disaster around us—the splintered cabinets, the shards of tile, our clothes scattered on the floor.

And just like that, the spell broke.

“I, uh…” She cleared her throat, looking at anything but me. “I should go see if that’s Junie.”