Hothouse Flower (Calloway Sisters #2)

by Krista Ritchie

He grew up with the Calloway girls. Daisy has known him her whole fucking life. I’ve known Lo for three years. For fuck’s sake, I am the thing that ca...

Nothing makes complete sense. My dick says one thing. My head says another. I have morals. I have Lo’s constant warnings. I have five kinds of wrong and no kinds...

The strings that I tie down are the ones that mean something to me.” My eyes flicker to each of them. “I haven’t found a girl that I want to tie myself to, and I don’t know if I ever will.”

Her carefree nature always fucking draws me to her—even when I wish I could stay fifteen feet away. It doesn’t help that her legs are spread apart. I’m so fucking thankful she’s single right now. I hate her ex-boyfriends, and I hate how men look at her and all they see is a girl they believe they can mount. They can’t.

She’s out of their fucking league, and yet, she entertains them, too nice not to. It pisses me off.

“How did you know that? Have you been reading my diary?” “No, I’ve just been sleeping in your bed.” “I thought that was some other guy,” she says.

She does this thing where she rests her hands on my thighs instead of wrapping them around my chest. I always have to grab her wrist when she purposefully nears my cock.

She likes to tease, to see how far she can push me, and I’ve never had a girl play with me like that, with confidence that radiates. It drives me fucking nuts, and I find myself wanting to be around her even more, seeking those give-and-take moments and her fucking joy.

But there’s a silent understanding between us. We both know we can’t ...

“You’ve let other guys in your bed?” I question with the rise of my brows. Anger burns my muscles as I imagine the losers she’s been with, all fucking her, all older. Don’t think about it. “Not lately.” Her oversized sweater...

My body heats, and the only thing that stops any kind of arousal is the idea of another strange guy getting hard at the sight of ...

“I think I could do it,” she says, ignoring my sarcasm. “But you’d have to be on the bike too, steering.” Her green eyes grow big. “Can we try?” I don’t dismiss her wild fantasies.

But this—me on a motorcycle with her facing me—it’s an image that’s too fucking intimate. I don’t even know if she realizes this.

“Unless you’re scared.” My eyes narrow. “You can call me a fucking coward all you want, sweetheart. I’m not falling for it.” And neither is my dick. “Then I’ll just try to ride backwards without you present. How’s that?” She’s about to turn her fucking key in the ignition. I have no doubt she’ll try.

And with every daring event, I’ve been there, by her side, carrying her almost every time she’s fallen.

Our knees knock together, and I’m satisfied with the fact that I can’t near the handlebars. But she’s not ready to give up. She lifts her legs on top of mine and scoots down towards me. Fuck. She’s straddling me,

“You’re a wicked girl, Calloway,” I tell her. My cock is pleading with me to thrust forward,

It works. I don’t move. And my face remains dark, never letting on anything past pissed—and I kind of am. This doesn’t feel fucking good. And yet, I always end up back at this place with her because I love her company so fucking much.

a mischievous grin again. “I know how we could fit better—” Fuck me. “Don’t,” I say, sitting up before her head nears mine and subsequently her lips. We’ve never kissed. I don’t plan to start now.

I fucking swear if she rocks her hips against mine one more time, I’m going to throw her off the bike. And it won’t be nice. She smiles even wider at the risk that’s clear in my eyes.

“I was just going to suggest taking off my boots. What were you thinking?” My tongue in your mouth. My cock so far inside of you. My gaze darkens,

And I kind of wish she stopped at the first guy and waited for someone better. Like…no one. I don’t think anyone is good enough for her. Yeah, it’s fucking selfish. I don’t care.

Daisy digests this. “So you like older women then?” “I like all women, sweetheart.” She wears a crooked smile. “You like me?” Fuck me. “Daisy—” She holds up her hands, her palms touching my chest because there’s no fucking room. I go rigid beneath them. “I know, sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything.” She drops her hands quickly, her breath heavy.

She’s youthful and wild. Primal and really fucking innocent. She’s all these things that scream big fucking risk.

I stare at his eyes that are hard and harsh, never softening for me. Our close proximity doesn’t really alleviate anything between us, but I like his closeness too much to jump off the motorcycle. And hey, he’s not moving either. Good signs, I think.

“Like an eagle?” “You’re prettier than an eagle.” He rolls his eyes again. “Fuck.” “You called me pretty.” I poke his chest, my smile overtaking my face.

All I know is that I don’t want to be afraid of the person I’m with. That isn’t a danger I like.

Ryke groans, but his hand unconsciously rises from my knee to my thigh. The affection speeds my heart.

I pretty much dislike everything about sex. The before. The during. The after. No moment is fun. I’ve kept trying to see if it gets better. It doesn’t.

“Sex is stupid,” I tell him. “It is when you’re with guys who can’t satisfy you.” I flush at his words. “Rose just told me to try it with more guys and see what happens.”

“No, Dais. You need to like the guy you’re with as much as they like you. That way, you’ll fucking come too.” “But what happens when the guy I like isn’t emotionally available?” “Stay single,” he suggests. “Forever?” Ryke’s whole body tenses. I don’t know if that’s a no or a yes. Inside I’m screaming, give me something!

And then the garage door opens. “Hey,” Lo calls, “dinner is…” His voice dies when he catches us on the motorcycle together. Uh-oh. Ryke slowly climbs off the bike, acting like he did nothing wrong. I mimic his guiltless expression, and I follow him, swinging my legs over the seat and standing up.

To say he’s like a big brother to me would be accurate. Which makes everything with Ryke a tiny bit weird, but at the same time, Ryke feels so disconnected from Lo—a barrier built between them from years of separation. So maybe it’s not as strange as it could be.

“Tone it down,” he tells me, his eyes fixed on his brother. “Lo—” “You’re not good enough for her,” he says. “You realize that, right?” Ryke’s jaw locks, and his shoulders tense. “I care about Daisy just as much as you, if not more, so you don’t need to pull this overprotective bullshit on me.” “It’s not bullshit if you’re fucking her.” “We’re not fucking!” Ryke shouts.

You know what, we might as well fuck if you all think we’ve done it a thousand times already.” My eyes widen. Really?

“Here we go,” Ryke says, throwing his arms in the air. “Let’s fucking hear it, Lo. She’s eighteen. She’s like your little sister. Her mom hates me. I know. I know. I fucking know.”

I know it doesn’t help that Ryke is lying to him about sleeping in my bed. If Lo found out, he would disapprove and find a way to separate us for the betterment of my health. But I think my health is the best when I’m with Ryke. Sleeping without him has been nearly impossible. I need the reassurance at night, the confidence of another person in order to sleep without fear. Otherwise, I can’t even get an hour of shuteye. But I’m not keeping Ryke at gunpoint. If he wants to leave, I’d let him.

Maybe in my heart, I just know that I only want Ryke Meadows.

“I didn’t accept you into my life so you could bang my girlfriend’s little sister. Don’t make me regret letting you in.” That one stung. I felt it like a sharp kick.

They think I have this massive crush on Ryke, and while I do like him, I understand more than anyone what we can and cannot do. I’ve accepted that reality for so long that the fantasy is always us being together.

They both smile when I do. That lights up any black spots that dotted my heart. But it’s not enough to take away the panic that I’ll feel come nighttime. Sometimes I wish it could be daylight forever. I wish that I could be with these five people and never have to face the world alone.

a part of me wonders if it’s even possible to be that fearless girl again. Maybe too much has changed to go back.

“Well, be damn fucking sure about this,” Ryke says, “any love that I fucking give will never hurt a woman.”

It drives me fucking nuts watching you do things you hate just to please other people.”

I search his eyes, but all I see is that familiar stone that Lily talks about. She says his brother is ice. All sharp. But Ryke, he’s like the rocks he climbs—just hard.

I like when he’s satisfied. I like when I do right by all people, but it’s just hard when my mom stands at one end and my sisters, Ryke, Connor and Lo stand at the other.

“Yeah, yeah.” “Don’t yeah me twice,” he retorts. “Why, because it’s redundant?” He leans close, his arms on either side of the counter, on either side of me. “Because it sounds fake, sweetheart.” “So if I moan twice—” He covers my mouth with his large hand, enveloping my cheeks and jaw. “Don’t go there, not tonight.” I do ride that line a little too much. We tempt and tease each other with knowledge that nothing more can happen. It’s our dynamic.

“No you didn’t,” he says. “If I fucking wanted to be with you like that, I would have by now. You’ve been eighteen for six months.” This shouldn’t hurt, but his words knot my stomach, the granola rising to my throat. I swallow it back down. I think wanting is a little different than doing.

We flirt sometimes, but he’s never gotten hard or aroused by me. At least not that I’ve seen. I want to test it. I shouldn’t, but I’m curious.

He’s my wolf, and I seriously wonder if he’ll bite me today. I don’t think twice. I hug him, and his body goes rigid. I look up, neither of us retracting.