It’s Owen’s turn next, and Piper comes up alongside me. “How’s it going with you know who?” she whispers. We’re clear on the other end of the table, and “you know who” is busy chitchatting with Cassidy and Cade, but I’m glad she didn’t call her attention. Daisy can be a firecracker where I’m concerned, not that I mind when she goes off in my mouth.
“She’s cool.” I shrug it off. “How’s Ava? She and Lucky seem to get along.”
Owen knocks his stick to mine as Cade heads up. “Our sisters are fast friends. They like each other.”
“Yeah, they got something else in common, too.” Piper makes a face. “They don’t want anything to do with their big brothers.”
“Not Lucky.” I take a step up to the table and take my shot, landing my balls and six others where those bitches need to be. “Lucky likes my money just fine.” I give a little wink. “I think she likes me, too.” It’s true. I’m funding her spending habits, and then some. Lucky only managed to land a partial scholarship, but the university helped set up a monthly payment plan for me so I wouldn’t have to take out a loan. I have to admit it blows my mind that I’m able to afford as much as I can. As rough around the edges as I might seem to the rest of society, I’m both humbled and happy to be able to pay my bills and then some. I know what hard work is and what it means to drip blood, sweat, and ink to make something you believe in come true. My shop wasn’t an overnight success. It took trial and error, more failure than it ever did victories to land on its feet before I ever broke even. But here we are, my sister in school, and my mortgage paying itself off each month like clockwork. Maybe that’s what has me so tuned into Daisy. I feel her struggle. I know how hard it is to make a dollar and then watch as it melts away before it ever gets warm between your fingers.
A pair of long, creamy stems strides up as I’m taking another shot, and I falter, sending the balls in every direction but the right one. My eyes trace those legs all the way up, bumping over the Himalayas until I hit those beautiful lips that can make an entire infantry of angels cry. Daisy. Here she is with that I’m-going-to-hurt-you look on her face.
“You want a turn?” I hand her the stick like some bumbling idiot, and she balks at it as if it were my dick. Not true. Daisy doesn’t balk at anything I give her once the lights go out. In public, however, that seems to be a very different matter.
She gives a heavy sigh. “I’m going to the bar. You need anything?” She sounds like a pissed-off teenager who’s just been forced to be nice to her brother—a brother she very much hates.
“I’m good.” I watch as she sashays out of here and note about twelve different guys doing the exact same thing. Can’t blame them. She’s a fine specimen. If only they knew what she’s capable of in bed, how shockingly compliant she is with my every command, they might have followed her right out the door. But the only people following her out the door are her friends. I turn to find Cade, Owen, and Rex all woefully staring at me as if grave news were coming my way.
“What’s wrong?” I’ve learned not to panic. I used to panic as a kid watching my dad beat my mother to a bloody pulp, praying to God he’d take him in the night, waking up drenched in urine, only to find my dad gearing up for a second act of his deranged behavior. We never seemed to get mercy, but we always got act two. I doubt Lucky would still be after that tribute to Daddy tattoo if she knew who he really was, and what he drove people to do.
“Nothing’s wrong.” Rex swipes the stick from my hand and leans on it like a post. “Anything wrong with you?”
Owen shakes his head. “I think what you meant to ask is, what’s right with you these days. Anything you want to share?”
“Like?” I’ve never been a fan of pop quizzes or guessing games, and this feels too much like both for me to ever enjoy.
“Like”—Cade breaks out into a shit-eating grin—“why are you so intently studying Daisy’s ass like it held the map to the Holy Grail?”
Owen swats me over the leg with his stick. “Because it does. Daisy is smoking, and Jet’s vision is twenty-twenty when it comes to beautiful women. What’s going on at the house? She’s opening up to you?”
Like a flower. “No.” It’s true. The most honesty I’ve received from her verbally has come by way of grunts, and, ironically, those are by way of coming. “She’s quiet.” Mostly. “She keeps to herself.” When she’s not keeping with me. “She’s going through a tough time. It doesn’t take a genius to figure that out. I’m giving her all the space she needs.” And closing in the gaps of her every orifice after midnight.
Now it’s my turn to give a shit-eating grin.
The girls come back with two drinks each. Daisy hands me something red and fruity, and I’m slow to take it from her.
“What the heck is this?” This is the type of drink that acts as a signal to my dick, sort of a compass of where it needs to go on nights I was picking girls up from the bar.
“Strawberry daiquiri. My favorite.” She gives a little wink while taking a sip of her own.
“Thank you. Unlike some people, I say those words freely.”
“On that note!” Piper grabs ahold of Owen, and they head into the main room. Scarlett and Rex take off, but not before he shakes his head at me in disapproval. Cassidy clicks her tongue and gives Daisy a look that screams get the hell away from that jackass. Cade just keeps grinning like he has all the answers to this deranged puzzle as the two of them take off.
“Now look what you did.” Daisy scoffs, leaning against the pool table.
“You and your fruity drink did this.” A genuine smile bleeds through, and I don’t stop it. Something about the situation makes me want to grin like an idiot. I’ve been craving a little alone time with her outside of the house, outside of the bedroom just to see what it’s like. Usually she lobs sarcastic quips at me before managing to bolt, but she still has her tight little ass pressed to that pool table, those pale sky eyes glowering at me as if I stole her mother’s wedding ring, and judging by the fact I have no clue who her mother is, I might have.
“Wow”—she gives an exasperated sigh—“you’re really good at shifting the blame. I bet you’ve spent a lifetime doing just that.”
An image of my father lying crumpled at the base of the stairs flashes through my mind, and I chase it away.
“I always take responsibility for my actions.” I close in and straddle her, caging her in right here in this very public place, just to see what sort of reaction I get. There are very few physical mysteries that remain between Daisy and me, so the fact my crotch is touching hers shouldn’t be all that shocking to her. But emotionally, there are oceans of mysteries floating between us. If her sea of confusion is as deep and unknowable as my own, then there is no chance on Earth we’ll ever wade through them. I want to, though. I want to try to absorb whatever psychological piece she’s willing to give up.
Her irritation with me grows ten times more than before as those glossy pink lips twist with rage. “Are you saying I don’t take responsibilities for my actions?”
“No.” I inch back a notch. Crap. I’ve never put my foot in my mouth so much around another human being before. It’s as if all my tough guy persona, all of my business knowhow and street-smarts vaporize as soon as she’s in the vicinity. As much as I want to play it cool, a part of me is still star-struck that this beautiful girl I’ve crushed on from afar is even remotely interested in climbing into my bed. I’ve never been with a girl I’ve been so infatuated with before. Girls like Daisy are off-limits. But in truth, there haven’t been girls like Daisy. Deep down, she was what I feared most. I know me. Once I’m too intensely involved, I’ll want to stick around. Sticking around isn’t an option. I have responsibilities. I need to be laser focused in on only one girl in my life—my sister, taking care of her emotional and financial needs before I go parceling off another piece of myself. Being with Daisy physically has been a feverish dream, something more than just a fantasy, but having her in my life full-time is out of the question. My gut burn
s as if begging me to reconsider.
Her chest rises and falls with her next breath. “Because I do take responsibility for my actions.” She bats those forest thick lashes before leaning back and taking a casual sip of her drink. “And step away, would you? I’d hate to shut my prospects down for the night.”
Now it’s my turn to scowl. “I know all about your nightly prospects.”
Her hands fly up to her ears, and a fat drop of strawberry sludge slips right down her cleavage.
“I wouldn’t mind cleaning that up for you.” I lick my lips without meaning to.
“First, that’s disgusting—and second, you do not mention nightly prospects.” Daisy hikes up and gets up into my face. “Speak no evil!”
She’s either batshit or blindsided with lust for me.
“Admit you were enjoying the hell out of yourself.”
Her eyes expand. Her face bleaches out as if I’ve just threatened her.
I graze over her cheek with my thumb as I pull her in with my gaze. “Don’t fight it.”
A series of choking noises emits from her, and oddly enough, it looks as if she’s enjoying the hell out of herself. Daisy stomps down on my foot like she’s killing a spider, shrieking like her hair is on fire before taking off in a fury.
Owen steps back in the room and makes his way over. “What the heck was that about?”
“I think they call it denial.”
“What’s she denying?”
“That I’m not a big hairy spider she can get rid of with the heel of her shoe. What’s up?”
“Lucky’s up. I think you need to see this.”
“Crap.” I follow Owen as we thread through the crowd. Girls brush up against me with a wink and a smile. A few of the coeds I’ve brought home before whisper open invites as I pass them by, but I’m too worried about Lucky to process anything right now.
Owen leads us to the women’s restroom, and my jaw drops when he walks right in like he owns the place. Inside, near the back, Piper and Daisy kneel next to a girl sitting in a chair in the corner. It’s Owen’s little sister, Ava. A curtain of black hair drapes over her knees, and it takes me a moment to realize it’s Lucky lying across her lap.
“Lucky?” I pull her hair back, and she lets out a deep, sickly moan. Her eyes are reduced to puffy slits as she shoots me a lazy smile.
“Brother!”
“What’s happening? Are you sick? Do you need to go to the hospital?”
“She’s sick all right.” Piper pulls Lucky’s hair back. “She’s puking. Someone gave her a beer or two, and she’s freaking smashed.”
“What?” I bark so loud my voice echoes through the room like a boomerang.
“What’s happening?” a shrill female voice calls from behind, and I turn to find Baya and Laney, two of the waitresses, brimming with concern. “God, how old is she?” Baya rests her palm over Lucky’s forehead as if checking for a fever. “Should we call an ambulance?”
Daisy looks up at me with watery eyes. “How old is she, Jet?”
“Too fucking young for this.” I lean over, and Lucky sputters as she sits up. “What’s going on?” I brush the loose strands from her eyes.
“I was”—Lucky does a quick survey of all the concerned faces—“just being stupid.”
Baya sighs with relief and picks her hand up. “I’m so glad you’re okay. You really scared me for a second. How did you get the alcohol? There’s no underage drinking in this bar.”
“Tell me about it.” She smacks her lips like she’s about to get sick. “I couldn’t get a drink here, so I brought my own.”
A swell of rage runs through me. “Where the hell did you get your hands on alcohol?”
“Your refrigerator.” She shrinks a little when she says it.
“Shit.” I squeeze my eyes shut tight. I don’t drink. Not really enough to qualify anyway. I keep a few beers in the fridge for my buddies, but that ends tonight. There will be a fucking purge once I get home, but until then, I have a very loaded sister to deal with.
Laney pats me over the back. “I think we need to get her back to her place. Is everything okay, or do you guys need some assistance?”
“We’ve got it.” Daisy wraps an arm around Lucky, and something about hearing her say we so sweetly makes me feel better about the situation because I sure as hell don’t feel like I’ve got it.
Baya and Laney take off and so do half of the gawkers that have amassed behind us. I scoop Lucky into my arms, and she giggles up a storm as I lead her out of the bar and into the cool night air.
Daisy wraps an arm around Ava’s shoulders, helping her with her every wobbly step.
“You, too?” Owen growls out his disappointment for all to hear.
“I’m sorry!” Ava buries her face in Daisy’s neck before murmuring something incoherently. The four of us help the girls across the street and up to Cutler Tower. I land Lucky in her bed while Ava has a brief shouting match with Owen before kicking him out of her room.
Lucky curls into a fetal position and hums goodnight before I even say goodbye. “Do you need me to stay?”
She waves me off.
“You’re texting me when you get up. Don’t go anywhere tomorrow. You won’t be feeling well.”
Lucky turns to me, her face still patchy from crying and vomiting. “I’m sorry, Jet. I didn’t mean to hurt you or anything. I won’t do it again. I promise.”
“No worries. We’ll talk more later.” I press a kiss to her forehead before heading out. Piper and Owen are nowhere to be seen. The only person to lay eyes on is Daisy, with her knee hiked up against the wall. Her hair falls over the side of her face, and something about her loosens me.
“You okay?” she asks nice enough, but I can’t seem to get on her level.
“Do you really care?” Normally, I would have taken the bait, but just knowing that Lucky is in that position because she used my fridge as a minimart makes me want to punch a wall. I head for the stairs without waiting for a response.
“Yes, I care.” Daisy scuttles alongside me, struggling to keep up. “I care about both of those girls. I’ll make sure I have a long talk with them about the ills of intoxication. Thank God they happened to be at the Black Bear and not some sexed-up frat house.”
I let out a groan at the thought of some idiot taking advantage of my sister just because she couldn’t control her drinking.
“I’d appreciate you talking to them. I know Owen would, too.” We hit the night air once again, and Daisy steps in front of me with that intoxicating scent that follows her around like a mist, her sweet perfume—the only thing good about this night so far. “I’m going to have a talk with my sister, too.”
“Go easy on her.” Her eyes grow heavy as she looks to the ground. “There’s nothing worse than disappointing your family.”
My heart breaks because I know she’s speaking from experience.
“I will.”
“Jet—” Her lips quiver as she looks up at me from under her lashes.
“Is she okay?” Cassidy cuts her off as she runs over with Piper and Scarlett.
“They’re both fine.” Daisy glances up at me, and her mouth contorts as if she wants to say something, but the words won’t come out.
“I’ll see you later.” I nod toward her buddies before taking off.
I head home and throw myself in the shower, hoping to wash away the memory of my sister lying in a heap over Ava’s lap. I get out and wrap a towel around my waist, not bothering to get dressed, not bothering to dry off. I clean the fridge out of all its malt liquor libations and dump them into the garbage can outside the back door.
“Whoa!” a small voice cries from the shadows as I dump the last of the bottles. “You could have found a home for that.” Daisy steps forward, her chest pumping as if she ran all the way here.
“I kind of like the symbolism.” A low growl rumbles from me as I let the lid slam shut. My father liked to drink. He let it control him, and that’s when I instated my
one drink limit. Only God knows if I have any of my father’s natural tendencies, but I’ve never been in the mood to find out. And now that I’ve officially set a moratorium on all future liquor purchases—at least those that need to find a home in my fridge, that shouldn’t be a problem.
“Symbolism is a good thing, I guess.”
I hold the door open for her, and she walks straight to the hall before turning around. Her eyes scour over my chest, bumping over my tattoos, riding all the way down to my towel, and for a second I contemplate letting it drop, but Lucky—and what I’m praying isn’t her newfound hobby—has me rattled.
Daisy’s chest hiccups as she opens her mouth to say something.
“Goodnight.” I walk right past her and hit the bed without turning on the lights.
Lucky bounces through my mind, then my father—my mother with her bruised arms, her bloodied lips, her black eye. Lucky doesn’t realize the fact she’s playing with fire. Maybe it’s time to talk to her—tell her about what my mother went through. I wish my mother were here to help me do this. There are some family secrets a person shouldn’t have to shoulder alone.
The door opens and closes softly with a click. A pale figure moves in the dim light as Daisy appears at the foot of the bed. The moonlight drips off her, gold like honey, as she slowly, teasingly takes off her sweater. Daisy pulls off every last ounce of clothing like a second skin, renewing herself in the light like a goddess coming into her own, and she is.
Daisy climbs onto the mattress, and her shapely silhouette enlivens every cell in my body. She gets on all fours and crawls over until she’s seated on my lap, the weight of her tits falls over my chest and pulls a guttural groan from me.
“The things you do to me,” I whisper.
Her finger falls over my lips before she finds a better way to silence me—with her sweet, sweet mouth. She pulls at my hair, runs those nails over my chest, pulls at my hard-on like it’s her new favorite toy, and it just might be.
It’s true.
Daisy Pembrooke has no idea what she’s doing to me.
The Vagina Dialogues
Dirty Kisses Page 8
