Delighting Daisy
Copyright 2012
Lynn Richards
Wolf Publishing
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WARNING: This book is intended for mature audiences only.
DELIGHTING DAISY
Gideon liked to watch.
He watched now as four couples touched and stroked, enjoying each other.
Lord, how it wished he was one half of one of those couples. The man was dark haired and tall, the woman curvy and sassy. He smiled as he watched her.
She was the kind of woman he could love. Vivacious, pretty, and like he said curvy. He liked a woman who wasn’t flesh and bones. Whose breasts were two of her best assets, her ass being the other.
The law firm of Greyson, Sanders, and Delacorte was throwing an engagement party for one of the partners – Mike Delacorte. The man had been his partner in the FBI for years and joined the firm only a few years ago. He still didn’t know why the man had resigned from the bureau now. Gideon had been with the FBI almost his entire adult life and loved it.
But he’d give a little bit of his soul to be where the other man was now.
In the arms of a woman who loved him.
In the arms of the woman Gideon had watched Mike pleasure. His dick hardened. Remembering.
Damn, he couldn’t go there. He had never crossed that line between business and pleasure until two weeks ago. And then it had gotten damned blurred. No, that door was closed to him. Forever. There were some lines friends just didn’t cross.
“Gideon, come join the party.” The object of his introspection, Beth Ann Sorenson, called out to him, smiling; her pouty red lips looked as if she had just been fucked in the mouth.
Damn. Damn. Damn.
He took a swig of his now tepid beer. It had been a long night.
He waved to her but didn’t move from his place against the back wall.
He wasn’t pining over Mike’s fiancé, he was just envious. Damn envious. In addition to Mike, the other two partners had found a woman too. It was a damned epidemic. One he wouldn’t mind joining.
Gideon was tired of sleeping his way through the female population. Well, he used to do that. In the last three or four years he had slowed down, and not because of his age, he was still on the good side of forty. No, he’d gotten tired of the pretty girls, the young girls, the hot women, and the older women. The ones who wanted a quick fuck then moved on. Even the ones willing to stay a little longer and express a few darker desires. Desires he liked to engage in.
No, he wanted the trust and commitment these couples appeared to have found.
Unfortunately, he knew the woman who might just give him that kind of commitment.
Daisy.
Daisy Lambert, administrative assistant to the chief of the Atlanta Federal Bureau of Investigation.
And one red hot female.
She was even curvier than Beth Ann. Her hair was dark brown, almost black and hung to just past her shoulders. She wasn’t that young, but closer to twenty than he was to thirty and she wasn’t beautiful. But she had curve upon curve. Ripe luscious breasts begging for a pair of nipple clips.
His gaze sought her out. She was dancing with one of the other partners, Quint, the dom. As he’d worked with Mike over the years, he’d learned about his partner’s other partners. Quinton Sanders liked his sex a little rough and a whole lot controlled. Looking at the face of his happy wife, he knew she must enjoy it, too.
That’s what he wanted.
Which one, his annoying inner self questioned. The happy wife or the woman who enjoyed his brand of sex?
He wanted both. His appetites were varied, leaning toward the controlling side.
There was just something about giving a woman an order in bed and her obeying without question or fuss or giggles. The younger women giggled an awful damn lot, thinking it was a game, not a lifestyle. He needed the woman who knew how to straddle the fence. Knowing the loving could be fun and lighthearted, but desiring that additional layer of darkness.
His dick really started to throb.
He hadn’t had sex in over two weeks. Not since he’d watched, or should he say listened, to Mike fingering Beth Ann to release. If he concentrated he could still smell her.
“Come on, dance with me. Mike’s talking to Noah.” The object of his thoughts walked over and grabbed his hand. He didn’t have the heart to tell her no. And quiet frankly, he wanted to feel her generous curves pressed against him.
He pulled her close on the dance floor, even though the song really didn’t warrant it. He wasn’t about to blow his chance to hold her close.
“You are a very naughty man, Gideon Sinclair.” She smiled up at him. He hadn’t known her long, nor even now did he know her very well, but he could see she was happy. Damn Mike.
“Not as naughty as you, Ms. Sorenson.”
“Gideon!” She slapped him on the shoulder. “You’re not supposed to remind me.” Her face flamed but her smile was still wide and bright. Yeah, she might have been embarrassed about what they had shared – what they all three had shared – but she wasn’t ashamed. A big difference.
“But darling, it’s one of my favorite memories of you.” He spun her wide making the skirt of her short evening dress swing around her legs. She looked good tonight.
They danced for a few more minutes. “I closed my eyes.”
His dark gaze met hers. They both knew he was referring to the night in the cabin when Mike had tied her to the bed. When Gideon had sat in a soft leather chair with his hands clenched. And his eyes closed. But he’d listened. He’d listen to every moan, every gasp, every cry of pleasure and pain.
And he’d wanted it too. It had taken all of his control and most of his conscience not to join the two on the bed.
Now he stood on the sidelines again. Alone. Unsatisfied.
“Oh.” Her lips closed together.
“He’s a good man, Beth Ann. He’ll take good care of you.”
“I know. Now all we have to do is find you a woman to take good care of you. You have a very dangerous job.” A shadow fell over her face. Mike had suffered a gunshot wound during the case that had quickly spiraled out of control. Gideon knew the man didn’t regret one moment of that pain since he’d won Beth Ann in the end.
He grunted and continued to dance. Yeah, his job was dangerous, but that’s how he liked it.
After a few moments, Beth Ann spoke again. “Does Daisy carry a gun?”
“What?” He’d been lost in the sensation of a full-figured woman in his arms. He was going to have to get himself one.
“Daisy, does she carry a gun?”
He so did not need to hear that name.
“No, she’s the admin assistant. Why?”
“Because if she did, I’m pretty sure I’d be dead right about now.” She nodded to her right.
Daisy and Quint had stopped dancing. They stood with Noah and his paralegal, Tara. Another couple. When Mike joined them, Gideon knew his dance with Beth Ann was over. He stopped and walked her over to her frowning fiancée. He couldn’t resist letting his hand slip below her waist to cradle her ass.
“Hello.” He nodded to everyone, giving Daisy a barely there acknowledgement. He didn’t want thoughts of her to interfere with the lingering sensation of Beth Ann in his arms.
He zeroed in on Tara. “Come dance with me, beautiful.”
Daisy felt hurt and anger war inside her. Yes, there was no reason why Gideon Sinclair should have asked her to dance. Except, she was t
he only single woman in the group! Tara had her handsome, smiling boss, Quint’s woman had made a pit stop, and Mike and Beth Ann were once again glued at the hip.
But no, the man didn’t ask her to dance. If his greeting had been any briefer, it wouldn’t have existed.
Not that she cared. She flipped her dark hair over her shoulder, saying fuck you without speaking.
She so did care.
Gideon Sinclair was a hot, hot man. This was saying something considering the room was filled with hot, hot men. The partners from Mike’s law firm and half the agents from the bureau were here celebrating his resignation and his engagement. There room was wall to wall testosterone.
And still she couldn’t get a second look.
Oh well, what had she expected? She was not the type of woman to garner many second glances. She could count on one hand the number of women in the room who were over a size twelve. She could count on one finger the number of women over a size sixteen – her.
Her friends called her well padded. Unfortunately none of those friends were male and none were friends with benefits. Seeing the happiness on the bride-to-be’s face, the size sixteen in the room, and the hotty she was engaged to, gave her hope. A small shard, but hope nonetheless.
She accepted another glass of champagne from a passing waiter and took up a post by the far wall. She was good at observing her fellow man. That’s what made her a good admin assistant with the bureau; it was also what made her a very frustrated wanna be agent. The chief had allowed her only one undercover assignment. And only when a female agent couldn’t be found. It lasted about thirty minutes. She’d taken a female suspect to the airport where she’d handed her over to the air marshal. Not exciting at all.
That was what she wanted in her life. Excitement.
Her attention went back to the dance floor where Gideon was dancing with Tara Pierce. Supposedly she and Noah Greyson were an item, but you couldn’t prove it with the way she was dancing with Gideon. To be such a quiet man, he had some killer moves on the dance floor.
Oh, what she wouldn’t do to be the one dancing with him now. Of course, she’d really like to be doing the horizontal limbo with him.
Face it Daisy Lambert, you just want to fuck the man.
Deep down she knew was probably a nympho. All she thought about was sex. Sex with Gideon. Any way he wanted it.
She shivered and her pussy creamed. The stories she had heard about the three attorneys were enough to make any woman’s panties wet. And she knew Gideon was friends with Mike and he’d spent time with the others. Rumor was Quint was the dom of the group and Noah was just a great lover, very little kink. Mike was the dark horse. And Gideon? What did Gideon like?
Spanking, bondage, submission, dominance? All of the above?
Which ones would she be willing to do for him? Spanking. Check. Bondage? Check. Submission check. Dominance? Double check. She didn’t know if it had to do with her body image issues or not, but she wanted a man to tell her what to do and how to do it in bed. Of course, that desire might just rise from the fact she wanted a man to prove he wanted her.
Being overweight made you less likely to trust a man when they did express interest. You always asked yourself why.
“What put that look on your face, Ms. Lambert?” Gideon’s voice sounded behind her.
Shit. When had he quit dancing with Tara?
And what look was he referring to? The hint of sadness she knew crossed her face whenever she thought about relationships or the craving when she thought about submitting to a man. To him.
“What look is that, Mr. Sinclair?”
“Dance with me.” Before she could decline – yeah, like she was going to do that – he took her hand and spun her into his arms.
He held her lightly for several minutes before drawing her closer. Dear God did that feel good. Before she could stop herself, she stepped even closer.
“I didn’t watch.”
“What?”
“During the case with Mike and Beth Ann. I didn’t watch.”
“You didn’t watch them do what? I find it hard to believe that you didn’t watch out for your partner and a kidnapped civilian, Agent Sinclair.”
He glared down at her. “Of course, I had my partner’s back.”
“I know.” She glared back. “I’m not the one who said you didn’t. You said you didn’t watch.”
He spun her away from him and just as quickly back into his arms. She gasped as she landed against his chest. He didn’t even seem to feel the weight of her body. Something for which she was very thankful.
“I didn’t watch when Mike fingered Beth Ann.”
Daisy stopped dancing. “What!”
He simply started dancing again, taking her with him. Her legs moved by rote. What had the man just confessed? And why? Her face flushed and somewhat surprisingly her pussy creamed. What would it be like to have Gideon pleasure her in front of someone? She’d never thought of that scenario before.
“Is your pussy wet, Daisy? Does the thought of me taking you in front of someone turn you on?” Gideon bowed his head, his mouth against her ear. “Does the thought of being tied up and completely at a man’s mercy make your sweet little pussy spasm? Do you fantasize behind that desk of yours, imaging the men lining up to have their turn. To take you as hard and fast they wanted?”
He licked her ear.
“Or as slow and deep as they can get?”
Another lick.
“Man, after man, after man.”
He spun her around again. This time she stumbled as she stepped back in his arms.
“Mmm, I can almost taste it, Daisy. I can almost taste the sweet cream of your pussy.”
She shuddered, a jumbled mass of thoughts and feelings. And sensations. “Why did you tell me that?” she asked, referring to his confession about Mike and Beth Ann. She couldn’t cope with the images he’d invoked.
“Mike’s my friend and I hope to have a long relationship with him. And Beth Ann. If we’d kept it from you, you would have eventually found out. Hell, Beth still blushes when I tease her about it.” He grinned.
She stopped dancing again. “Why did you tell me?”
This time his grin was dark and almost frightening. “Because I’m going to fuck you, Daisy Lambert. Someday soon.”
He turned and walked off the dance floor, heading straight for the door.
*
“Hi chief, you’re back early.” Daisy didn’t look up as the office door closed. She was bent over the credenza behind Director Emery’s desk sorting the stack of papers he always left there. She never could go through them unless he was out of the office. She thought he would be gone for another two or three hours, but apparently he was back early.
She’d also come in here to avoid Gideon and the temptation he presented. He’d arrived early this morning, just as most of the other agents had. He’d talked and joked then went straight to his office, after giving her a very brief hello.
No mention was made of last night’s rather revealing conversation. Or his parting words.
What would it feel like to be fucked by Gideon Sinclair? She squeezed her legs together and danced from foot to foot, trying to hold on to that tingling sensation the thought had aroused.
Many might say her parents had really screwed her up. They had been free and easy with love and sex, no subject taboo or off limits. Too young to be true hippies, they had nevertheless embraced the lifestyle of decades gone by. Daisy had known more about the human reproductive system than her freshman biology teacher.
But they had given her a good self-image. While she had some body image issues and sometimes lacked the trust necessary to become truly intimate with a man, she also knew the feelings she had were perfectly normal. Sex was a biological function. One which all mammals had.
She wasn’t Miss Prim and Proper; she wasn’t a prude or a repressed virgin.
She was alone.
It was hard to have a healthy, active sex life with jus
t yourself. Not impossible, but difficult. Her mother had given her a vibrator for her sixteenth birthday, urging her to experiment and find her G-spot so she could guide her lover when she took one.
That hadn’t happened for ten years and the advice had gone over like a lead balloon.
But her mother and father had taught her more than that. Sex was a natural bodily function, yes. It was the added element and dimension of attraction, desire and connectedness that transformed sex into making love.
As many men would tell you, sometimes a woman was just a hole to bang.
Women fortunately, or unfortunately, always looked for something else, something deeper from her partner.
Well, most women. How she wished she could be like those other women, to have sex for the sake of having sex.
Lost in thoughts of sex and the sexy agent she’d like to be having it with, she didn’t realize the chief hadn’t answered her for several minutes. She turned round.
“Holy, shit,” she screeched.
Leaning against the office door was Gideon Sinclair. “I’m not the director.”
“No shit, Sherlock.” Yeah, her mouth was getting the best of her, but holy Moses, the man had scared her.
“What do you want?”
“You.”
Daisy took a step backwards, her butt knocking off a stack of papers she’d just straightened.
“I, umm. Umm.”
“Come here.” He hadn’t straightened from his relaxed position against the door, but she could hear the steel in his voice.
She tried to speak again, but couldn’t. Well, what did you say when the man of your fantasies told you he wanted you, then ordered you into his arms?
Apparently stand there like a dunce because Daisy didn’t move.
Couldn’t.
“I told you I was going to fuck you. Now come here.”
She knew she must have the doe-in-the-headlight look on her face, because he smiled. Like a hunter about to pounce on his prey.
“Did that make your panties wet, Daisy?”
If only he knew.
She didn’t know what to do. Yeah, she could order him out and she was pretty certain if she sounded convincing enough he’d turn around and leave without a word. Trouble was, she didn’t think she’d sound convincing. All she wanted to do was walk into his arms.
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