by Kate Pearce
She stripped off her jeans and got into Jackson’s bed, struggling to get between the tightly fitted, starched sheets. Talk about military corners and sheets you could bounce a dime off . . . you could probably bounce a dime off Jackson’s ass, too.
She lay on her back and stared up at the ceiling, all thoughts of sleep far away as her mind insisted on running through a frame-by-frame rerun of Jackson Lymond’s spectacular body. By the time she’d considered every detail, her hand had settled between her legs, and she was imagining what would’ve happened if she’d followed her instincts, stripped him bare, and encouraged him to have his evil way with her.
But he was right. She wasn’t being fair. She couldn’t heavy breathe all over him one minute and then tell him to back off the next. She sighed, all thoughts of sleeping now escaping her. How long was it since she’d actually had a living, breathing man in her bed? She’d tried a couple of drunken hookups with old friends, but none of them had made her feel any better. Perhaps once you’d found and lost the love of your life, you couldn’t recapture that feeling.
But she was only twenty-eight. Was that it? Was she done? And she missed it. Missed having a man inside her, kissing her, loving her . . .
Daisy sat up, put her jeans back on, and went into the kitchen, where Jackson was feeding the dogs. He turned to her, a can of dog food in his hand.
“I thought you were sleeping.”
“I was thinking too hard.” She’d also been fantasizing about his amazing body, but she wasn’t going to mention that. “I wanted to ask you something.”
“Okay.” He threw the can in the recycle bin. “Shoot.”
Of course now that she was facing him, Daisy didn’t know where to start. He washed his hands and gestured for her to sit opposite him at the kitchen table.
“Seriously. Just tell me what’s going on.”
“I was just thinking about being twenty-eight and never having sex again in my life,” Daisy confessed.
He blinked at her. “Okay.”
“That seemed kind of . . . unfair,” Daisy added.
“I agree.” Jackson nodded vigorously. “That would be terrible.”
“But I’ve always believed that sex comes after you fall in love with someone.” She worried at her lip. “But as I’ve decided never to do that again, does that mean I have to accept I can never have sex again either?”
“For some people I guess it would.” Jackson, at least, appeared to be taking her ridiculous questions seriously. “I suppose it depends on whether you have the ability to separate the sex thing from the love thing—if you know what I mean.”
“Exactly,” Daisy said. “And you’d have to be very clear with the person you chose to have sex with that they wouldn’t be getting the love part.”
Jackson sat back in his chair and regarded her. “Are we talking specifics here, or are you just expressing an opinion?”
“I’m not sure,” Daisy confessed. “I feel like I’m being very biased.”
“There are plenty of places you can find hookup sex with no consequences online, Daisy,” Jackson said gently. “If you truly just want an anonymous body.”
“Yes, I know that.” She made herself meet his gaze and found nothing but understanding there. “So what would you do if you were me?”
He was silent for so long, she thought he wasn’t going to answer her, and then he stirred. “I suppose I’d look for a friend who was willing to go along with the just-for-fun, no-strings-attached sex thing.”
“Is that something you would be willing to go along with?” Daisy held her breath and immediately began blathering again. “I know I said it wasn’t fair if one person wanted different things than the other, but if we were both on the same page from the get-go?”
* * *
She looked so hopeful, he almost gave in immediately. He’d already said he’d be amenable to just having sex. To give himself some time, he locked his hands together and stretched them over his head.
“I’d have to think about that, Daisy. I’m an all-or-nothing kind of guy. When I was younger, I had sex with women just because they loved my uniform, so I can’t say I haven’t been there, but I’m not particularly proud of my behavior.” He met her gaze. “Can I think about it?”
“Of course.” Daisy nodded. “And I won’t be at all offended if you turn me down. We can go back to just being friends, and maybe I can look elsewhere.”
The thought of her looking elsewhere for sex didn’t sit well with him at all. But the thought of just having sex and nothing else wasn’t great either. He rose from the table and went back to the refrigerator.
“We’d better get something to eat or your family are going to think I never feed you.” He peered inside the refrigerator. “We’ve got half a chicken pie or some noodles in sauce. What do you fancy?”
When she didn’t answer, he looked back at the table where she was still sitting. “Daisy?”
“You hate me, don’t you?” she whispered.
“Nope,” Jackson reassured her. “I appreciate your honesty.”
“But I keep messing you around.”
“Yeah, you do. Some might say it’s good for me, as I’m normally the person who expects everything to function in a perfectly straight line. Maybe I need this.”
She didn’t look any happier, and he abandoned the quest for food and came back over to her.
“Don’t look so worried.”
“I’m worried about what you think. Apart from two stupid drunken nights at college, this isn’t like me at all.”
“Maybe you thought of it because we have chemistry,” Jackson suggested.
“We do, don’t we?” Daisy agreed.
“Maybe I’m the first man to stir your loins?”
“Ew.” She wrinkled her nose at him. “That’s hardly romantic.”
“But you don’t want me to be romantic, do you?” He held her gaze. “When I kiss you, it’s awesome.”
“Yes, it is.” She stared right into his eyes as he bent his head and kissed her lightly on the lips.
“See?” She nodded, and he drew back. “Now, what do you want to eat?”
Chapter Six
“What gives with you and Jackson Lymond?” Nancy asked.
Daisy was sitting in Yvonne’s apartment above the coffee shop after enjoying an excellent dinner with her friends. The plan was to watch a romantic movie, have a good cry, drink some wine, and be sort of ready for Monday morning.
“What about him?” Daisy stalled for time.
“Are you two going out?” Yvonne asked. “Because if you are, good for you, Daisy. He’s supernice and hot as hell.”
“You’re practically a married woman; should you even be noticing such things?” Daisy asked.
“I’m getting married; I’m not going blind.” Yvonne winked at her. “No one compares to Rio, but Jackson is hard to miss.”
“So are you going out with him?” Nancy asked again. She was much better at staying on topic than Yvonne.
“I’m not sure,” Daisy said, making both her friends stare at her.
“What do you mean, you’re not sure?” Nancy asked. “Jackson doesn’t strike me as the kind of guy who needs encouragement, and he seemed really into you when I spoke to him last.”
Daisy tucked her feet underneath her on the couch and tried to think of an explanation that would fool Nancy, a woman she’d known since kindergarten, without divulging details of her secret job.
“I think Jackson wants a committed, long-term relationship, and I’m not sure I’m into that right now.”
Both women stared at her like she was speaking a foreign language.
“Why not?” Nancy was the first to recover. “He’s a good guy, and I bet he wouldn’t dick around on you.”
Daisy tried again. “I’m not into commitment.”
It was Yvonne’s turn to look at her funny. “You . . . aren’t?”
“Maybe I’m more like Nancy than you think,” Daisy insisted.
&n
bsp; “Oh, I’m into commitment,” Nancy said. “I’m committed to having the best time ever, and never settling down with one man.”
“See?” Daisy pointed at Nancy. “Maybe that’s how I am, too.”
Both of her friends shook their heads.
“Nope, sorry,” Nancy said. “Your idea of a wild night out is a couple of beers at the Red Dragon.”
“And what’s wrong with that?” Daisy grabbed a cushion and held it against her stomach.
“There’s nothing wrong with that,” Yvonne agreed, “but you aren’t exactly chasing men down, are you?”
“Hey, I don’t chase them down,” Nancy interjected. “They come to me.”
“You’re a special case. We’re talking about Daisy.” Yvonne waved a hand at her. “In fact, I’ve never seen you out with anyone the entire time I’ve lived in Morgantown.”
“I’ve only been back three years,” Daisy protested.
“But did you date after college, while you were in Silicon Valley?” Nancy asked.
“Of course I did,” Daisy defended herself. “Once or twice. And what does this have to do with Jackson Lymond anyway?”
Nancy and Yvonne exchanged a glance. “We’re just trying to work out why you won’t go out with a nice man like Jackson.”
“Because I don’t have to?” Daisy grumbled.
“True, and if you don’t like him, Yvonne and I will shut up immediately,” Nancy said promptly. “But seeing as the gossip mill has you being seen with him at least three times, and that he had dinner up at your place, it sounds like maybe you do like him just a little bit?”
“Hang on. Jackson had dinner at the Millers?” Yvonne pressed a hand to her heart. “Mon Dieu. With your brothers and your dad, and you’re not married to him yet?”
Daisy sighed. “I made the mistake of mentioning Jackson to Adam. He assumed I was interested in him and invited Jackson to dinner.”
“And did Jackson go?”
“Of course he did.” Daisy glared at her cackling friends.
“And he survived to tell the tale?” Nancy grinned. “The man’s obviously into you big-time.”
“I don’t have time to get involved with anyone right now,” Daisy repeated.
“How about you ask Jackson to keep it light?” Yvonne asked. “Would you go for that?”
“That’s kind of what we’re doing.”
“So you are going out with him?” Nancy collapsed back on the couch. “Wow, that took way too much time to get back to where we started.”
Daisy looked down at the cushion she was holding. “The thing is . . . I asked Jackson if he’d consider being my friend and having sex with me, but not be in a serious relationship.”
This time the silence went on even longer before Nancy managed to close her mouth.
“You asked Jackson Lymond to be your hookup?” Nancy said. “Ballsy move, babe.”
“That sounds horrible,” Daisy said. “I meant that it would be nice to have sex with someone occasionally who I liked.” She scowled at her friends. “Why are you both looking at me like that?”
“Because that’s a very un-Daisyish thing to do,” Yvonne finally said.
“It’s quite simple. I don’t want a serious relationship, but I do want sex. I’m twenty-eight and I have needs just like everyone else.”
“Of course you do,” Yvonne hurried to reassure her. “So what did Jackson say?”
“He asked for time to think it over,” Daisy said. “Which I thought was very nice of him.”
“Definitely.” Nancy tried to keep her face straight. “Very noble of him. Free sex and no strings attached; what man would want that?”
Daisy threw the pillow at her and Nancy threw it back.
“Shall we get on and watch the movie?” Yvonne asked. “We all have to get up for work in the morning and it’s already getting late.”
* * *
“Rachel, can I ask you something?” Jackson inquired as he came into the kitchen. She’d stayed the night with Cauy after getting back late from Bridgeport.
“Sure! What’s up?” Rachel put down her phone, and motioned for Jackson to join her at the table. “Is everything okay?”
“Where’s Cauy?”
“He’s out talking to Santiago about the hay ration or something. Why, do you want him to be here when we talk?”
“God, no.” Jackson shuddered. “This is embarrassing enough as it is.” He sat down. “Firstly, anything I say is in the strictest confidence. That means you don’t even get to tell Cauy, okay?”
Rachel made a face, but nodded anyway. “So what can I help you with?”
Jackson decided he’d just lay it out there. He’d never been a great dissembler.
“Hypothetically, what would you do if a woman you liked and wanted to have a committed relationship with said she’d prefer to be your friend, but with sexual benefits?”
Rachel blinked at him. “Daisy Miller said that to you?”
“How do you know it’s Daisy?” Jackson asked. “I said hypothetically.”
Rachel rolled her eyes, but at least she didn’t get up and walk away. “Hypothetically, I suppose it would depend on how I felt about that. Would it be enough to satisfy me? Or would I come to resent that restriction as time went on, and feel like I wasn’t important enough to that person to be trusted with their complete, one-hundred-percent love.” She paused for breath. “I obviously have a strong opinion about this.”
“I can tell,” Jackson agreed. “Go on.”
“It’s what I said. If you’re okay with the friends-with-benefits kind of thing, and you both are, that’s fine.”
“Do you think it’s possible for the other person to change their mind and want more?” Jackson asked.
“It’s possible, but I wouldn’t go into a relationship assuming it will change to the way you want it to. You’d have to decide you were okay with things remaining the same, or even that one day one of you might find someone they did want to give that one-hundred-percent commitment to.” Rachel paused. “Did you ask Cauy about this?”
“Like I’m going to ask my big brother for advice about my sex life,” Jackson grumbled.
“Got it.” Rachel chuckled. “That would be weird, like me asking Chase or BB.” She reached over and patted Jackson’s hand. “It’s up to you, really. If you’re planning on living here, you’ve got to think about seeing Daisy, or that hypothetical person, around all the time if things go wrong.”
“Good point.” Jackson nodded and rose to his feet. “That was helpful. Thanks, Rachel.”
“I’m not sure how, but you’re welcome.” Rachel grinned up at him. “Let me know if I can solve any of your other problems, okay? I’m not planning on going anywhere.”
Jackson was still smiling as he stepped out into the yard and walked down to the white fence that enclosed the pasture. The horses were out grazing at the lush grass without a care in the world. Jackson braced one booted foot on the bottom rung of the gate and stared out over the fields. He wanted Daisy Miller, that was a given, but could he abide by her terms?
If the military had taught him anything, it was to have a backup plan for your backup plan. He’d learned to swallow his disappointment and make the best of things before, and not being with Daisy, never touching her, or laughing with her, wasn’t an outcome he wanted. Life was too short to wait for things that might never happen.
At one time, the idea of ever giving up his military career would have been impossible for him to imagine. It was what he’d always dreamed of, and he’d gone into the service expecting to be a lifer. But things didn’t always work out, and now he was a man without a purpose or a real plan. Meeting Daisy had given him some much-needed direction, and he’d jumped at the chance to become her fake boyfriend.
Which left him in the acceptance part of the deal. He’d take what he’d been offered, and go with it.
* * *
Daisy opened the back door to her shop and let Jackson inside. She’d just closed
for lunch, so it was perfect timing.
“Hi! What’s up? I just shut the shop for an hour, and—”
He leaned in and kissed her so passionately, she moaned his name and had her arms around his neck in less than a second. He continued to kiss her, his hands roaming over her back and hips, pressing her firmly against the hardness encased in his jeans. Oh God, he felt so good . . .
“Okay.” He drew back a scant inch. “I’m in.”
“In what?” Daisy croaked.
“You, hopefully.”
The smile he gave her was so hot, her knees trembled. “What, now?”
“Why not?” He walked her back toward the wall, lifted her up, and held her pinned against the hardest parts of him. She wondered whether it was actually possible to faint from sheer lust. “You’ve got a skirt on, I can work with that.”
He shifted slightly, releasing his right hand, and gathered up her skirt in his fist. “Hang on to this.”
“What if someone comes in?” Daisy bleated.
He reached across her and locked the back door. “Not happening.”
“What about protection?”
“In my back pocket. Get it out for me.”
Daisy curved her hand over possibly the most beautiful ass she had ever had the privilege to touch, and delved into his back pocket, making him groan and grind himself against her.
“Yeah. Let’s start with you first.”
He set her down, which was slightly disappointing, but immediately slid onto his knees, which made her pulse race. He kissed her fingers and then pressed them into her skirt, making her draw it away from her legs.
“Let me see you.”
Secretly thrilled by the commanding note in his voice, Daisy gathered her long skirt and brought it up to her waist. She only had a moment to wonder what pair of panties she’d put on that morning before Jackson pressed his mouth to her mound, and she forgot everything else.
“May I?” He looked up at her, and she nodded.
He ran his thumbs along the lace edge of her panties until he reached her rounded hips and then back again, the edge of his fingers now beneath the lace, touching her bare skin, making her shiver uncontrollably. She’d showered that morning, right? And when had she last shaved her legs?
