Rock Chick Reawakening (Rock Chick 0.5)(47)

He turned them so her back was to the headboard.

One arm around her, his other hand guiding the way, he slid her down on him.

Her head fell back, her hair brushing his arm.

He fell forward, on top of her. Her platinum hair all over his pillows, he lifted an arm to brace his hand against the headboard and he started moving.

She focused with effort on him.

“You’re done,” he growled.

She gave him a dazed grin.

He kissed her.

Five minutes later, he made her come.

A minute after that, she gave him the same.





It had been three days since they’d consummated their relationship.

Three days Marcus gave Daisy to get used to this change. Three days Marcus gave himself to watch over her and make sure she was good with the change.

And three days for him to get over being pissed she’d tried to leave him.

She was good with the change if the amount, variety, and magnificence of the sex was anything to go by.

He wasn’t complaining. Weeks with her in his life and the last of those with her sweet little body, beautiful face, and all that gorgeous damned hair sleeping beside him in his bed had been torture. He was f*cking thrilled it was over.

Obviously because the torture was over.

But mostly because Daisy was good with it.

However, to be certain, he’d called Bex and discussed the change with her.

“It’s a process,” she’d explained. “Some people adjust. Some people it takes longer. Some people let it haunt them. If you perceive this is going well, just keep doing what you’ve been doing. Be watchful. Encourage her to communicate. And be patient. She’ll never be over this, Mr. Sloan. I think you understand this isn’t a bruise that fades away. It’s coming to the understanding that what happened, happened. It was no fault of hers. Then learning how to cope with the fact it happened and giving herself permission to move on. That’s the key. But if you can show her you’re a man who’ll handle her with care, that you’ll be there in those times she needs to cope, then I have every faith you two will be good.”

One thing Marcus knew, Daisy could cope with anything.

The thing he didn’t know was if she knew he would always be there to help.

So right then, after they’d shared what they’d shared on a night when she didn’t have to work so they had all night to get through what he needed them to get through, he was going to make certain she knew that.

“We need to talk,” he declared.

She stopped tracing patterns on his chest with a pearl-white fingernail that had a pink tip with a swirl of black across it, the black embedded with rhinestones.

She lifted her head from his shoulder and looked at him.

“Uh-oh,” she mumbled the minute she did.

Marcus tightened his arm around her at his side and pulled her over his chest.

Then he clamped his other arm around her.

“I’m thinkin’ this is a serious talk, you need me fixed to your chest,” she kept mumbling, her eyes aimed at his chin.

“This is serious, darling, so please look at me while you listen to me.”

She looked into his eyes.

She was holding her body stiffly and Marcus wanted to shake her.

She was preparing for the worst.

This shouldn’t be a surprise, not with the life she’d led.

However, Daisy lost it with him taking his time completing them. The operative part of that was taking his time.

She was far from dumb.

And he’d taken his time and taught her better.

Holding his patience, he stated, “I handle you with care.”

She stared at him.

“Have I ever not done that?” he asked.

“No,” she said slowly.

“So you know that.”

“Yes.”

“So why are you tensed and looking freaked out?”

“Uh…I don’t know, because you’re freaking me out.”

“How am I doing that?”

“You’re bein’ real serious and we just had a fun time, sugar. After fun times don’t come serious times. After fun times there’s cuddling and whispers which lead to kissing and groping and then more fun times. Unless you’re sleepy, then they lead to sleepy times. They don’t lead to serious times.”

A variety of things with Daisy would be a lot easier if she wasn’t so goddamned cute.

“You don’t use your last name,” he announced.

She stared at him again.

“Smithie’s got it on your employment records but you don’t use it. Ever. None of the girls know it. None of the bouncers. Waitresses. Nobody.”

“Well, I’m Daisy like Cher’s Cher and Charo is Charo. But I’m more like Charo. She has better hair…and cleavage.”

Yes, a variety of things would be easier if Daisy wasn’t so f*cking cute.

“That’s not it,” he pushed.

Haltingly, she replied, “I…it’s not mine. It’s…well, his. And he hasn’t been a part of me in, uh…maybe really in forever.”

“You’re right. It’s not yours. You’re Daisy. And the only last name you’ll ever really have is Sloan.”

Her body lurched on top of him.