He reached out and caught her hand, turning the palm up and stroking across it with his thumb. She felt the gooseflesh rise all up her arm, and choked back a sob, seeing regret in his face and knowing what was coming. Don't say it. I take it back, I don't want to know. She held her head high and said, as calmly as she could around the boulder-sized lump that strained her voice, "Don't pity me, Daryl, and don't feel bad that you don't want me. Just please, tell me the truth, and let me go."
He uncoiled from where he sat and slid down the bunk to take her in his arms. She stiffened against him, and her voice broke. "Don't. Don't you dare feel sorry for me." She would have said more, but he brought his hand up and put his palm across her mouth.
"Shut up, Carol." And then he kissed her, hard, and pulled her tight against his body. There was nothing tender or testing about it, just undiluted need, mashing his lips into hers and tangling his hand in her hair. For a moment her mind went completely blank, and she felt like she was wrapped in a warm, vibrating, airless cocoon. After a few seconds he relaxed his grip a bit and she was able to breathe again. She pulled her head back to break the contact, and he abruptly let go. "What'd I do wrong?"
She dropped her head, suddenly feeling absurdly shy, sitting astride his lap, nothing between them but a few layers of fabric and the air, thick with tension. "Nothing. You didn't do anything wrong. You just surprised me, is all." She lifted her eyes to him again, seeing the relief in his face, and more. How could she have missed all of that? How could she have read him so wrong? So much for woman's intuition.
He ran his hands slowly up her forearms, his lips turning up at the corners as he watched the fine hairs there rise in response to his touch. She let her eyes run over his face, the long dark lashes that veiled his gaze, the sharp angle of his cheek, the messy scruff that covered his chin and framed his lips... she pushed her hand up through his bangs, uncovering his eyes, and bent to touch her lips to his. His hands slipped around to cup her ribcage, just a little too tightly, and he sighed into her mouth.
This time he was the one who pulled away. His eyes were troubled and full of doubt, and she settled back, wanting to give him space to find what he needed to say. "I don't know how to do this. I don't know… how to be sweet with you."
"But you'd like to, is that what you're telling me?" Carol felt a blush cover her cheeks to match the one rising in Daryl's face.
"No! That's just it, see? The way I just kissed you?" The words shot out of his mouth, and he twisted beneath her, spilling her off of his lap onto the bunk and catching her wrist in his grip. He held her hard and came in close to her face, his voice harsh. "What I wanna do is grab you and throw you up against the bed and make you scream so loud you wake up every sleepin' bastard in the whole place! Jesus, Carol, you're ain't the only one been starvin' around here." His breathing was ragged, his eyes dark.
Carol stared at him, feeling the flush in her face creep down over her chest, and a lazy trickle of warmth became a flood. She couldn't keep her mind from turning his words into a vivid image of… that. Having him pin her up against the bunk, stripping her bare and putting his hands everywhere, his mouth… seeing him poised above her, burying himself inside her...
He was almost shouting at her now. "Why do you think I can't stop lookin' at you every second I'm around you? Why do you think I wake up at night and come by your door, hopin' you'll be awake so I can talk to you? You're in my head so fuckin' bad I can't sleep, some nights, and it ain't because I'm so crazy about your smart mouth that I can't wait to let you nag at me about some dumbass thing I done." He finally ran down, and then he snorted, apparently reconsidering what he'd just said. "Well, it ain't only because I can't wait for you to call me a dumbass. Although that's pretty good some days, too."
He let go of her wrist and dug both hands into his scalp. "I'm just sayin' I don't know if I can be sweet, and court you like some kinda fuckin' high school kid, when all I wanna do is have you and make you mine, and you deserve better than some rough-ass hick who don't have the good manners to treat you like a lady." He sucked in a long breath, and looked at her warily, like some skinny alley cat who expected her to kick him and send him on his way.
A part of her wanted to hug him and tell him he was being a dumbass. A bigger part longed to be under him, and let him do exactly what he wanted.
"But I want that, too, don't you see? I want you in my bed, in me. As often as we can manage. You've been the main attraction in some awfully dirty dreams, Daryl, dreams that have kept me going. Kept me hoping. And I mean to find out..." She swallowed. She'd never spoken of such things. "I want to know what you sound like. What you taste like. How you like to be touched. I mean to keep finding out, for as long as you'll have me." The color rose again in his cheeks, and his eyes grew bright and speculative, as if he were wondering exactly how explicit her dreams had been.
"As far as sweetness goes, it's overrated, and I don't need to be courted. Courting is for someone who needs to be convinced, and we're well past that now, wouldn't you say?" She let a teasing note slip into her voice, trying to reassure him that nothing he'd said had made her doubt him. "I want you, you rough-ass hick. Every flawed, bad-tempered inch of you. Every sweet, tender, caring bit of you, and you can't tell me those parts of you don't exist, because I see them every day, even if you don't. I may have been the densest woman around, not to have known how you feel about me, but I know your heart, and that's the part that I fell in love with a long time ago."
He flinched a little at that word, love, and he sneered at her, grumbling, "You don't have no idea what the hell you're signin' on for, sweetheart. You're in for nothin' but heartache and headache, 'cause I ain't ever gonna be an easy ride. "
She couldn't resist taking a swing at a slow pitch like that, and said, sweetly, "Any kind of ride is good with me."
He shot a dirty look her way and said, "See? Smart-mouthin' me. I suppose you're gonna chew on my ass all the time about cuttin' my hair and not takin' stupid chances and lettin' you know where I am every second?"
She laughed outright at that, and shook her head. "I'd be a fool to think I could ever domesticate you, Daryl. I know you're going to be a pain in my ass, and yes, sometimes I'll probably be too pushy, and you'll hate it, and we'll fight, and we'll make up. I think that's the way it's supposed to go, although God knows my history hasn't been the healthiest example of how a relationship should work."
He slipped his arm around her waist and pulled her in close, for once remembering to be cautious of her sunburnt arms, and kissed her temple. "I still think you're crazy, but if you're sure this is what you want…"
"It's not just my choice. If we're going to do this, we have to choose each other."
He shook his head. "Choice was made a long time ago, as far as I'm concerned. I'm long since bought and paid for. Ain't been anyone else in my eyes, and if you didn't know that before, you know it now."
She closed her eyes and listened to him breathe, listened to her heart, stuttering along and trying to adjust to the nearness of him, and the thought that he was hers now, for better or worse. "Me, too, Daryl. You know that, don't you? So if some other man starts a conversation with me, or pays me some kind of special attention…?"
"...he'll get a boot up his ass, and an escort to the gate."
She sighed. "We'll add that to the list of things we need to talk about. Starting tomorrow. I don't know about you, but I'm falling asleep here."
"So my earlier suggestion's out of the question, then."
She giggled, and blushed, and said, "That's a very tempting offer, but it would be way too embarrassing if I nodded off while you were ravishing me."
"Trust me, darlin'," he growled, "When I finally get to ravish you, sleep's gonna be the last thing on your mind."
She grinned at him, already trying to plan exactly when and where that could happen. "You could sleep here with me tonight, though."
"Nah, you're gonna be tossin' and turnin' all night, I can tell right now. From the sunburn, I mean," and he winked at her, and bent to kiss her one more time, with feeling. "'night, sweetheart. Good dreams."
