She wanted to ask him if he’d ever done this before—wanted anyone else so badly that he barely made it inside her place before they fell on each other like crazed weasels. Well, maybe the crazed weasels would have taken the two minutes or so to undress each other first.
“There’s a powder room on the left.”
He didn’t take the hint. He reached out, picked her up by the waist, put one foot down on her jeans, and pulled her free. She wrapped her legs around him.
“Let’s go.”
Grant managed to make it upstairs to Daisy’s room without tripping over anything or dropping her or the clothes he’d scooped up from the floor. His heart was still racing. They tumbled onto her bed, and he landed on top of her. He tried to brace his weight on both hands so he wouldn’t squish her. It was always a good thing to be somewhat considerate.
He heard her laugh a little as she pushed the ball of clothing he’d wedged between them onto the floor again. “I don’t think we need these right now,” she said.
He normally would have made the usual comments before they got to her room about how this was one night, he wasn’t in the market for any type of ongoing relationship, and he was not sticking around. Nothing came out of his mouth besides, “It’s nice in here,” which may have been the most stupid comment in the history of second-date sexual encounters.
Her room was dark, so he couldn’t see a hell of a lot. Her bed was comfortable, though, and held her scent—flowers and sunshine.
“I’m glad you like it,” she said. He heard the hint of laughter in her voice. Maybe she felt awkward too.
Her fingertips moved over his face; she tucked his hair behind one ear. His man-bun was out. He’d be spending a few minutes searching for the elastic when he left.
He obviously needed help of some sort. He shouldn’t give a shit about where he’d left the little elastic thing he used in his hair while he was lying on a mostly naked woman five minutes after she’d helped him have an orgasm so intense he’d almost blacked out. What was wrong with him? Maybe all that passion had affected his brain function somehow.
Maybe he should quit thinking so much and get back in the game.
His eyes had adjusted to the darkness while they rested for a bit. He wasn’t going to think about the fact he needed a break or what that said about him. He wasn’t usually this tired after a game, and he wasn’t that old. She stroked his face again. Grant breathed in her scent. Shit, she smelled good.
“Want to snuggle for a while?” Daisy asked.
He couldn’t figure out which was worse—post-orgasm snuggling or talking. He’d been with women before who were all about the chatting. He preferred sleeping or leaving, whichever was easier. He loved sex, but he wasn’t so into exposing himself emotionally. Right now, though, he felt like he was on his first-ever date. And he realized that if she wanted to snuggle, well, goddamn it, he’d do his best.
Grant didn’t know who the hell he was right now.
He rolled onto his side, propped himself up on one elbow, and reached out to wrap one arm around her waist. Raindrops beat a soothing rhythm against her bedroom window.
“Are you warm enough?”
“Maybe we should get under the blankets,” she said. “Do you need some water?”
“I’m fine. Are you thirsty?”
Shit. Maybe they’d start talking about the weather next or how she felt about the tolling lanes on 405. They were talking just fine during dinner. What the hell was wrong with him?
“No,” she said.
They scrambled beneath the blankets, and he reached out for her again. He took a deep breath. Things were still happening below the waist, at least for him, but he didn’t want her to think he was an insensitive bastard, either. He’d better work up something to say before he made his move again.
“Uh, Daisy,” he said, clearing his throat. “I feel like a real asshole admitting this to anyone else, but I’m not exactly the king of witty convos after we—well, after I blow my load, so to speak.”
He saw the flash of her smile in the darkness.
“So we’re not discussing US foreign policy or climate change?”
“Probably not.” He pulled her a little closer. “Did you want to talk about that?”
“You want me to come up with a subject, then?”
“If you’d like.”
She put both hands onto the middle of his chest and pushed him into the pillows.
“I changed my mind about the snuggling,” she said.
“You did?”
She straddled him and bent to cover his mouth with hers. She surfaced long enough to whisper, “Less talk. More action,” and kissed him again. Her tongue tangled with his. He reached up to grasp her hips as she ground herself against him.
He wanted to flip her onto her back and dive inside, but the condom he had was across the room in his pants pocket.
“Do you have any condoms?”
“Yeah.”
She braced herself on the floor with one leg and pulled herself off of him enough to open the bedside table and grab the box inside. He heard the snick of a cardboard box opening and the crinkle of a foil wrapper and then felt her hand moving over his abdomen in search of his dick. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d put a condom on in the dark. He hoped she was better at it than he was.
“Need some help?” So his voice sounded a bit strangled. She’d managed to find Mr. Happy, or at the moment, Mr. Let’s-Get-That-Thing-On-NOW.
“Don’t worry about it.”
She gripped him in her small, cool hand, sliding it up and down his dick a couple of times for the hell of it. He could already hang clothes on it. Mostly, he needed to suit up. The more time that passed, the more he knew he’d need to do a little catch-up before they started again. He felt goosebumps when he ran one hand over her ass. She was cold. Something was wrong. He felt her try to stretch the rubber over the head of his dick, but she didn’t attempt to roll it down to cover him.
“Daisy?”
“Maybe I need some light,” she said. “I think this is inside out.”
The faint illumination from her bedroom window wasn’t enough to see detail. She leaned over to flip on the bedside table light. He could see her frowning at the condom. If he wasn’t already so aroused he wanted to explode, the sight of a naked Daisy would be enough to do it.
Her pale, lightly freckled skin almost glowed in the soft light. He noted her delicate collarbones, the pulse beating at the base of her neck, the rosy pink of the nipples he’d been sucking on. He loved her slightly rounded belly. He couldn’t wait to explore it with his tongue and his mouth. His eyes trailed farther and stopped on a small but surprisingly detailed tattoo of a compass on her hip. He reached out to run his fingers over it.
Seconds later, he took her face in his hands and sealed his mouth over hers. Her silky-soft hair slipped through his fingers as he readjusted and kissed her again. He heard the moan that rose in her throat as he turned her onto her back, and she wrapped her legs around his waist and slid her arms around his neck. Her breasts rubbed against his chest; he felt the damp heat of her against his belly, and his breathing accelerated.
She pulled her mouth off of his and said, “I want you.”
“I want you too,” he managed to say.
He could have said a lot of other things. He could have told her he thought she was pretty before, but he’d never seen anything as beautiful as she was at that moment, desire in her eyes and the flush of arousal spreading over her body. He wanted to start at her toes and work his way up. He wanted to spend hours exploring and experiencing every inch of her. And he knew he’d want to do it all over again. Maybe he should quit thinking and start doing.
He moved against her. He was inside her with one long, slick slide. He pushed his feet into the mattress as he moved in a slow rhythm, thrusting deeply. He felt her readjust her legs around him, pulling him closer. She bit her lip and let out a moan as her body squeezed him.
�
�Faster?” he said.
“Uh-huh.” He had to smile at her attempts to nod while she moved back and forth on the pillows. “That’s good.” She reached out to cup him in both of her hands, moving against him, grinding her wetness against his pelvis as he continued to thrust inside her.
He felt her hand slide between them as he kept thrusting. He pushed himself up on his hands to watch as she pulled her fingertips through her wetness and rubbed herself, her legs spreading wider, her breath coming faster.
“Oh, God,” she cried out. “I . . . I . . . ” Her back arched. He felt the first ripples of her orgasm, the tugging against him, and he couldn’t last any longer. Stars burst behind his eyelids. He heard himself groan as he moved faster; waves of sensation rolled over him. He felt Daisy’s arms slip around him as he collapsed against her.
They lay there for a few seconds. He was still trying to pull himself together as she wrapped her legs around his again and slid her fingertips over his sweat-drenched back.
“That was fun,” she whispered. “I loved it.”
“I had a great time too,” he said, which actually meant, “You are the hottest woman I have ever had sex with, and I think you’re beautiful.” Unfortunately, Daisy probably didn’t have a Grant-to-English translator.
He was still feeling the aftereffects. Twinging and stuff. It felt amazing. Usually, he came, it was over, and he could make sense of what had happened a few minutes later. This? He was fresh out of anything that would dazzle her. If he concentrated on breathing deeply, the blood might come back to his brain, and he could summon something meaningful besides, “Let’s do that again. Right now. For twice as long.”
Grant threw himself back into the pillows. Daisy glanced over at him.
“I need some water. Would you like some?” she asked.
“I’d love some. Thanks,” he said.
She rose from the bed as she struggled into a robe she grabbed off of a chair. He heard her light footsteps on the staircase seconds later. He stared at the empty doorway for a minute or so.
He had to admit he’d felt relief in the past when his date was sufficiently exhausted to fall asleep and he could pull his clothes on and get out of her place as quickly as possible. He wasn’t feeling relief at the moment. He wanted more. He wished she hadn’t gotten up and gone downstairs, but maybe she was having as much trouble with her feelings right now as he was and she needed a little time alone to process.
Maybe it was a combination of spending his afternoon running around a football field, his previous bout of nerves, or another huge orgasm, but he felt relaxed. He was happy. If this was how things were when you were with a woman you couldn’t wait to spend time with, sign him up.
He wished she’d come back upstairs so he could wrap his arms around her and listen to the rain on the roof of her place for a little while.
Come to think of it, maybe it was time he got his ass out of Daisy’s bed and got dressed. He didn’t usually stay overnight with any woman, or he hadn’t lately. He was comfortable, though. He breathed in the light perfume that infused her bedding. The tat-tat-tat of rain bouncing off of her bedroom window was almost hypnotic as his eyelids drifted closed.
DAISY REACHED INTO the cabinet over the kitchen sink for two drinking glasses. She positioned one glass under the ice and water dispenser on the front of her refrigerator and pushed the button.
Grant was everything she’d hoped he would be in bed and out of it, and she was so freaked out about it she was hiding in her kitchen while she tried to get herself together. To think that they’d see each other again was pretty ridiculous. They’d been out a couple of times now; they’d slept together, and she was taking this waaay too seriously. Dating was supposed to be fun. She was supposed to enjoy the time she’d spent with him and not get all hung up on how cute he was or how much she wanted to see him again.
She’d tangled her fingers in his hair. She’d kissed that full mouth. His stubble had scraped the tender inner skin of her thighs. She shouldn’t have slept with him. She shouldn’t have gotten out of bed afterward, either.
She barely knew him. To feel this strongly about a man she’d spent just a few hours with was ridiculous. Well, she’d spent some of that time with him when they weren’t dressed, which tended to hurry things along, emotions-wise.
He had to be seeing other women too. A guy like him probably had his pick. They weren’t exclusive. He could do whatever he wanted. So could she. She put the second glass back down on the kitchen counter and dropped her face into her hands.
When she wasn’t worried about getting her heart smashed like a loaf of bread in the bottom of the grocery bag, her guilt over not telling him the truth about Overtime Parking was reaching epic levels. She could have told him at dinner. She could have told him while they were sitting outside in his car, and all she had to do was open her mouth and blurt it out. She hadn’t. She could march right back upstairs and tell him. Maybe that was the best thing to do.
She filled the other glass with ice water and carried them both upstairs. If she said it quickly, it would be over, and she wouldn’t feel so guilty. His feet probably wouldn’t touch the ground as he ran out of her front door.
She walked into her room and listened to Grant’s quiet snores as he lay on his side, facing the bedroom window with the sheet wound around his hips.
If she got back into bed, she wouldn’t have to face any of it until morning.
She must have let out a sound of some sort. He flipped over on his back and said, “What’s up, Daisy?” Of course, sleepy-eyed and mussed looked adorable on him.
“Taking a little nap?” Daisy said. She put a glass of ice water down on the nightstand next to him, along with the ponytail holder he’d lost earlier. Instead of “I wrote a really smutty book about you. Isn’t that hilarious?” she said, “Here’s something to drink.”
It seemed so easy to do, but she couldn’t form the words. She couldn’t tell him what she’d done. Not right now.
SHE TOOK A sip of her glass of water. “Want me to help you find the rest of your stuff? It looks like everything’s here on the floor.” She bent over to grab his clothes, shook them out, and laid them on the foot of her bed. He wanted her to get back into bed for round two, but it didn’t look like she was in the mood. Maybe he’d pissed her off somehow. He didn’t think so, but he was mystified right now. Unless he was really wrong, she seemed to be throwing his ass out of her house.
“Jeans, shirt, underwear . . . You’re still wearing your socks, aren’t you?” she said.
“My feet get cold,” he said.
“I like to wear socks to bed too,” she said. “I hung up your coat on the rack by the front door.”
“Thanks,” he said. He swallowed some more water. “Did I piss you off somehow?”
“Not at all. I know you probably have to go to the practice facility tomorrow. I have an afternoon flight, so maybe we should both get some sleep.”
He could have mentioned that they were in her bedroom, where there just happened to be a bed, but she’d turned her back to rummage for something in her walk-in closet. She wasn’t looking at him. To say he was confused was minimizing things. He wasn’t sure what to do, other than get his ass dressed and hit the road.
The cold, dark, and rainy road back to his place, where he’d sleep alone.
He pulled his clothes on as quickly as possible. He’d grab his shoes downstairs as he went out the door. Grant finished off the water and put the glass back down on her nightstand.
She reappeared from the closet to walk him downstairs.
“Thank you for dinner,” she said. “I had such a great time tonight.”
“I did too,” he said. “I’d like to see you again. How about Thursday night?”
“I’m working an afternoon flight from LA,” she said. “If we’re not delayed, that would be fun.”
“Should I text you on Thursday?” he asked.
“Yes. I’d love that,” she said.
; He reached out to kiss her. At the last second, she moved her head, and his mouth grazed her cheek. What the hell? She’d enjoyed kissing him earlier, and now she didn’t want to? He was more confused than ever, and she wasn’t giving him any indication of what he’d done wrong.
“Oops,” she said. “I’m a dork. Maybe we should try it again.” She took his face in her hands, giving him a sweet, short kiss on the mouth. No tongue. She didn’t linger. She didn’t savor.
She was mad. There was no doubt about it.
“Is something wrong?” he said.
“No. Nothing at all. I had fun. I’ll see you on Thursday,” she said. She reached out to flip the dead bolt on her front door and pulled the door open. “Drive safely.”
“Yeah. Thanks. I had fun too,” he said.
He turned to wave as he walked down the cement path to her driveway. She gave him a smile that was a shade too bright. “Good night,” she called out.
He got into his car, turned the key in the ignition, and backed out. Her front door was shut before he drove away.
GRANT TOSSED AND turned the rest of the night in his bed. It had never seemed so large (or so empty) before. He’d always been big on a good night’s sleep. He’d bought the best bed he could afford, bedding that the salesperson at Nordstrom told him was the finest to be had, firm pillows, and a really nice down comforter. He’d wanted something so comfortable that he didn’t feel like getting out of it.
He was lost in remembering every moment he’d spent with Daisy tonight. Things seemed like they were amazing even before they’d finished having the hottest sex he could remember, and then she’d pretty much booted him out of her house minutes afterward. It wasn’t like her roommate was home. She’d told him herself that she didn’t need to be at work until eleven the next morning. Was there a fire drill?
Once they’d resolved the condom issue, she came. He remembered her cries (and a scream). Daisy seemed to love sex, had loved what he’d done to her, and he’d enjoyed what she’d done to him in return. Everyone had had a good time, in his opinion.
Intercepting Daisy Page 11
