Hothouse Flower (Calloway Sisters #2)

by Krista Ritchie

“I’m not getting my first ticket because Ryke won’t restrain his puppy.” “Hey,” Lo interjects. I frown. He’s going to stick up for me? “Don’t be calling Daisy his anything.” I roll my eyes.

She tenses as she watches me look her over closely. I act the same in front of Daisy as I did before we got together—which means my brother shoots me a warning glare every half hour for overstepping and walking a thin line.

“I like when girls have messy hair.” “Like ‘we just fucked’ messy?” She went there anyway. I try hard not to smile. “Daisy,” Lo interjects with a grimace. “Don’t say that to my brother.” “You’re right,” she says to Lo. “The f-word is a bit abrasive.” She tilts her head at me. “How about ‘we just had sex’ messy?”

“Wake me up when you stop flirting with a guy seven years older than you. It’s disgusting.” Her smile fades. I love Lo, but he can be a real fucking asshole.

She spins around, my hands falling off her shoulders. And in effect, she half-straddles my lap. Her ass is on the edge of the seat, not on me.

“Don’t talk about my knife, Calloway,” I deadpan. She eases forward, straddling my lap. “I like your knife.” She’s a wicked fucking girl. There’s a reason why guys haven’t been able to last with her. In bed, she probably won’t lie still while a guy dominates her.

She doesn’t beg to be in full control either. She wants to be a part of the experience, so when I fuck her, she’s going to fuck me with equal intensity. It’s a back and forth between us that I didn’t expect to translate to sex, but I already know it will.

My gaze hardens, giving her a look that intimidates most women. Instead her eyes brighten, hypnotized by the darkness inside of me. The I don’t give a fuck what you think mentality scar...

“You’re my wolf.” Her hands fall to the back of my neck, watching me watch her. “Cute,” I say. “The cutest?” She smiles.

Her fingers grip my neck tighter. “I can barely come once,” she whispers. My eyebrows shoot up. “You came pretty fucking quickly with me,” I breathe.

“You looked pissed,” she says. “I fucking am,” I whisper. “You deserve better.” “What’s better?” she asks. “Someone who pays attention to you,” I tell her. “Someone who can tell what you like and dislike without asking.” And then I lean forward and whisper in her ear, “Someone who makes you so wet that you scream when you come.”

She said, “Oh, that’s my youngest sister.” My face hardened. “She looks older than you.” “I know, but she’s only fifteen.” Fifteen. A weird feeling washed over me, like I did something really fucking wrong even though I hadn’t done it yet. I closed off to Daisy instantly, burning every thought and image I had constructed on a fucking impulse.

And she’s asking me to do it. Out of all the things we’ve done together—ridden motorcycles, swum with sharks, snorkeled, skydived, rock climbed—this is the most intimate. Not because we’re dating but because this means so much to her. She’s waited for it to happen for years.

She grins as she touches it, like it was cut by a professional and not hacked by someone with coarse hands. I slip the blade back in my boot, sheathing it on my ankle strap.

Connor looks at her through the rearview mirror. “That depends, are you going to howl again?” She shakes her head quickly. “No. No howling, I promise.” She flicks at the button repeatedly with the widest grin, knowing she’s going to get what she wants this time.

She sits on the windowsill. “I don’t know who’s a worse influence,” Connor says, “her with you or you with her.” I almost smile. I grip her ankle, letting her do her thing. “If she falls, I’ll pull her back in,” I tell him.

He tips my baseball cap lower on my eyes to hide me from sight. My scar is facing the wall, so on the off chance that someone photographs us, they won’t catch the cut. And it’s not really my hat. Ryke gave me his.

He catches me skimming his features, but I don’t shy from him. We play a dangerous game of who’s gonna look away first. Not me. I eye him like I want to crawl into his lap and lick his face. He stares at me with an intense hardness—rugged and alpha and a tad bit assholish. That’s Ryke Meadows.

I fear that I’m going to break first. So I say, “My scar is bigger than your scar.” I smile behind the menu again. His dark expression never falters. “And my cock is bigger than your cock.” Ohhh. Burn. I laugh, and Lo cringes.

I give Ryke another look like I want to fuck him, my eyes softening but still narrowing. I can speak through my gaze pretty well after practicing different expressions for modeling. Even with the fuck me hard, come hither stare, he stays fixed on me, unwavering. It’s a game between us, but his penetrating gaze is seriously heating my body past its normal temperature. I think it’s different now that it can go further than just flirting. It can progress to kissing and fondling and fucking since we’re together.

Connor shrugs easily. “You’re a good example. Don’t be ashamed. It’s a fact.” “Fact,” Lo says, “you’re a conceited prick.” “Fact,” Connor retorts, “you’re a good looking asshole.” Lo touches his heart mockingly. “A compliment and an insult. Fuck me now, love.”

Basically, he’s balling. And I don’t have a talent to capitalize on. I guess that’s a lie. I did have a talent: Modeling. What happens when the thing you’re good at isn’t the thing you love? That’s where I am now. Stuck.

“That implies that you have many fucking guys dating you.” I mock gasp. “But you’re my number one.” I raise the baseball cap on my head so I can see him better. “If I’m seriously dating a girl,” he says, “I better be the only fucking one.” He knows he is. I smile and pinch the stem of the rose. I slip it behind my ear.

I’m not used to being around Lo without Lily, and I think he’s uncomfortable by a lot of things. Me around his brother. Me around three guys and no sisters. Me on the road in a confined space.

He doesn’t say much, not that I expected him to. Ryke is a guy who speaks through his dark eyes. The heavy silence tightens all of me. He takes off his pants, completely naked. I rake his body with my gaze, every single muscle defined and cut hard. He seems unreal. And I’ve been with models.

I tell him in a raspy, needy voice, “I want to fit you all in my mouth.” “Fuck…” He says the word in a heavy breath, his eyes on my lips. I have good practice in blow jobs, so I know I can pleasure him as well as he has me. I just wish he’d let me try.

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.

I can’t believe she pulled away right then. Bad fucking timing. Connor clears his throat.

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.

“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 want that image fucking gone. And of course, Connor brings it up just to rile me.

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’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,

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.

“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.”

“It’s called camping,” I retort. Connor gives me a look. “I’d forgotten the definition of camping. Now that you reminded me, the whole world is clear.”

Good thing I can handle most personalities, even Connor Cobalt’s conceited one.

So if he chooses rehab, this trip to California is over. For Daisy, for me. I’d pick my brother in this instance. I have to.

Daisy tries to carry a stack of fold-out chairs in her arms all at once. I take a step forward to go help her, but Lo puts his hand on my chest. “I’ve got this.” He pats my shoulder with force, silently warning me, and then sprints to catch Daisy before she falls.

“You’re glaring,” Connor tells me. “Fuck off.” Though I do try to lessen the agitation that tenses my jaw. “Maybe try acting like you don’t want to murder your brother for stepping in your way.” “It’s hard,” I say truthfully.

“If I were you, Ryke, I’d stop letting people see the worst parts of me, and I’d finally show them the good.”

“I just don’t see what good it’ll do to have those fucking arguments.” I don’t want to fight.

“Greg is a smart guy, Ryke. Even though you aren’t dating Daisy out in the open, he’s known since she was fifteen that she’s had a crush on you. He’s just worried you’re going to lead her on and break her heart.” I wish I had a better relationship with her parents, but I don’t.

Greg used to stop by the country club on Mondays when I was a kid. He was the water to my father’s scotch. Nice. Cool, even. Sometimes I used to wish he was my dad.

But he forgets that I don’t speak with an even-tempered voice. I’m rough. I’m abrasive as hell, and the moment I try to talk, everything comes out coarse. Nothing comes out how I really intend.

Lily hugs me tight, and I try to convince them to sneak away with me. Girl time, no boys. But they have to reunite with their respective partners.

Ryke says I need to let it out. To scream. But I just saw Rose’s meltdown, and all it really did was worry her husband, guilt Lo and cause Lily’s eyes to bug out of her head. Why scream if it just hurts everyone around you?

You’ve hurt me. I can’t say those words. Not tonight. Maybe not ever.

“What? That I shouldn’t be looking at her boobs? It’s not like there’s anything there,” I say the fucking truth, but I realize immediately that it sounds bad. I don’t need a girl to have big breasts in order to love her or find her attractive. None of that matters. Connor arches his brow at me. Yeah, this is exactly what he told me not to do. Fucking A. Lo waves his plastic butter knife at me.

Now I feel like shit. I keep reminding myself that she’s my girlfriend, but it’s really fucking hard when Lo is looking at me like I’m another Julian.