- o -
Daisy closed her eyes and let the feel of his fingers grazing her belly soak into her pores. Did he realize he’d called her Daisy for the very first time? Odd, that that intimacy should scare her more than what his fingers were doing. Had she gotten herself into more than she’d bargained for? An image of Cassie Travers flashed before her mind. The woman was nodding yes and giving her an inexplicable smile.
Tension released from her upper body down to her toes. She’d just made a deal with a man old enough to be...well, old enough to know better. And she was relishing his touch as he dipped a finger into her moist crevice. His thumb found her button and she rose and faltered and then rose again. She soared as his tongue rimmed her belly button and his fingers continued working a special magic. She caught her breath and moaned. Jerking her knees toward her breasts, she ignored the man arousing her and rode the waves of ecstasy that she’d dreamed so much about. Only this was better, much better. And then oblivion overcame her senses and she slept.
- o -
An hour had passed. Wide awake, Nick lay beside the long-legged beauty, watching her sleep the sleep of a well satisfied woman. She’d wanted him to make her a woman; hopefully she realized it had taken both of them to do that, in the physical sense. But she’d always been all woman to him, and probably always would be.
Despite his glib words about teacher and student, what had he gotten himself into? There was no positive outcome to this arrangement. She was still too young. But damn, she was responsive. She exuded an innocent passion that was overpowering.
He’d been so close to embarrassing himself the first time she’d touched him. He hadn’t had to worry about that for years.
Daisy Matthews was uncharted waters. He’d spent many days and weeks in a canoe on the Boundary Waters, where he often could not see where he was headed because one island followed another in endless chains. Sometimes islands seemed to emerge and change overnight. Even with a compass in hand, he had to trust his instincts and experience.
Daisy rolled over in her sleep. Nick patted her rear affectionately. “Guess that’s what I’ve got to do with you, Daisy. Trust my instincts and experience and hope to hell I don’t lose my way.”
- o -
Daisy sat across from Nick’s mother and father in their modest dining room unable to stop smiling. Angie Underwood sat at the end of the table closely scrutinizing her. They probably thought she was still thrilled because of Rainbow’s victory.
Fortunately, most of the talk had nothing to do with her. Nick, sitting beside her, deflected any personal questions.
She chewed on a piece of ham, savoring it like she’d savored his loving earlier that morning. His tongue had found its way to her now not-so-private place. His words were seared on her brain: “Did you trim this for me? It’s beautiful.” The joy caused by his praise washed away any memory of pain. Though there must be an easier way to keep a bikini line. She’d have to do more researching on that.
His fingers squeezed her thigh, bringing her attention back to the conversation. “Yes,” he said to his mother, “Daisy is an English major, aren’t you, Daisy?”
She frowned, picking up threads of conversation. Vaguely, she recalled his mother asking her whether she was in college. She flushed. “That’s right. I love the classics. But there’s not a lot of time. I can only manage a course a semester.”
Agnes Underwood smiled. “There’s no rush. Sometimes education is best when you savor it step by step.”
Daisy smiled while Nick choked on a mouthful of potatoes. “I hope you’re right,” Daisy replied, brushing her knee against Nick’s thigh. “I don’t want to miss a thing.”
“So who’s your favorite author?”
“That’s easy. Shakespeare. Not a very original choice. But he has such a deep appreciation for the tension between pain and joy.”
“You could do much worse,” Nick’s mother said, sipping her coffee. “I still have a soft spot for Shakespeare even after all these years.”
Daisy nodded at the woman, whose dark hair was sprinkled with gray. Nick’s mother was thoughtful and likeable. What would she say if she knew how her son had spent his morning? He’s old enough to make up his own mind. Daisy blinked at the older woman, who had not uttered a word. Did she know? How could she?
After dinner, the men took their coffee into the living room while the three women cleared the table and put away the food. The conversation was comfortable and light, mainly about horses, some about books and theater. She didn’t know enough about the theater. While she’d read plenty of plays, few were contemporary. Maybe she’d pick up some by Sondheim. She shrugged as she put more dishes into the dishwasher. It was highly unlikely she’d ever see these people again anyway.
They did make her feel like she was part of things. Almost like she was part of the family. She shivered. But what if they really knew about her and Nick, or about who she was?
“Come on, Daisy,” Angie said. “Let’s go upstairs and freshen up. We can join Mom and the men in a few minutes.”
Daisy watched Angie expertly apply lipstick and then blush to her cheeks and finally a little eye liner. Daisy only owned lipstick. She’d never learned about the other stuff.
“You’re a beautiful young woman, Daisy, in case my brother hasn’t told you.”
Daisy felt herself blushing profusely. Angie was a head shorter, but more amply filled out. If either of them was beautiful, it was Nick’s sister.
“If you don’t mind a suggestion or two,” Angie said, “you could make those high cheek bones and full lips stand out more.”
Daisy arched an eyebrow. Angie’s bubbling enthusiasm was contagious, like that of a bettor who’d just hit a trifecta.
“Nothing dramatic,” Angie cautioned. “Just add a little subtlety and even more mystery. Can I try? It’s part of what I do for a living.”
Daisy shrugged. What did she have to lose, if it made Nick’s sister happy? She could just wipe it off later. “Why not,” she muttered.
“Good. You have such a natural beauty, we don’t want to do much.” Angie leaned over and pinched Daisy’s cheeks. “You definitely have the look of a well loved woman. Nick must be good for you, and I expect you’re good for him.”
“What?” Daisy gasped.
Angie straightened and smiled. “Come now. You don’t think everyone sitting at that table didn’t know they were looking at a well loved woman?” Angie paused. “Well, maybe not my dad. I’m never sure what he sees.
“Let me look at you now. First, let’s try a slightly darker shade of lipstick.” Angie pulled out several boxes of assorted makeup kits, picked out the lipstick she’d been searching for and then applied it to Daisy’s lips. “Great. Then a little rouge on the cheekbones. Excellent. Now a little eyeliner. Wow! Take a peek in the mirror.”
Daisy looked and her eyebrows shot up. It was still her, but she looked more...more sophisticated.
“I love your hair,” Angie said. “I wish mine had the natural wave yours does.”
“But you’re gorgeous,” Daisy said, faltering. “You’re voluptuous. Men must be crazy about you.”
“Funny, I only seem to find crazy men. But you have the long legs men desire. You must be something in a bikini.”
Daisy frowned.
“You do have a bikini?”
Daisy shook her head.
“Come on down to my old room. Most of my stuff is still here because I’m on the road with the theater group so much. Actually, we’ll be in Chicago in a couple months.”
“Great! I look forward to your next play.”
As they entered Angie’s room, Daisy’s heart fluttered. The accoutrements of family were so evident. Pictures of Angie with her parents, with Nick, and with an older woman on picnics and standing in front of a lakeside cottage were on a pegboard.
There were pictures of Angie in various stage roles and with friends. “Ah, here’s one that should fit you.”
Angie held in her ha
nds the tiniest swimsuit Daisy had ever seen. It was light blue.
“Try this on. Let me see how you look. It should go good with your eyes, not that any man will notice that small detail.”
Daisy’s skin warmed. She wasn’t unaccustomed to undressing in front of others. There was little modesty possible in a group home. Clearly, Angie was used to it from her stage life.
Taking a deep breath, Daisy shrugged out of her blouse. In minutes, she’d donned the brief pieces of material and tied the appropriate strings. She looked at herself in the full length mirror. Her eyes rounded. Was that really her? The bikini hid just enough to be mysterious and legal.
“You have a nice bikini line, but you’ll have to move it in a little to accommodate this one.”
“I can’t accept this.”
“Sure you can. It’s brand new. The guy who bought it for me had no concept of size. It fits you like a glove. I’d just hang out over it. If you don’t mind my saying so, you still look a little raw down there. What kind of kit did you use?”
Daisy told Angie about her harrowing experience with wax and hair removal patches.
Angie shook her head and giggled. “That procedure went out with cavewomen. Here,” she said, pulling out a dresser drawer, “this is what you need to buy. Much simpler and, believe me, much less painful.”
Daisy didn’t hesitate. She reached for her purse and scribbled down the brand and the label, then reconfirmed the names of cosmetics Angie had used on her.
She examined the bikini line kit again and then smiled at Angie. “Thanks. Thanks for all your help. If this works like you say, I may not feel like such a human sacrifice.”
Angie laughed. “I figure if I’m helping you, I’m helping my big brother. I’ve always adored Nick, but he’s not been the best judge of women. It’s nice to know that he’s finally found one with enough gumption to match his own. Why don’t you go ahead and change and stuff that bikini in your purse? I’ll meet you downstairs.”
Turning so she could see her backside in the mirror, Daisy flushed. Where had the back of the suit gone? Calling it a suit suggested it possessed more fabric than it actually did. She’d take it back to Chicago with her, but there wasn’t any public place she’d ever wear it.
She grinned. Maybe she’d model it for Nick in the privacy of her bedroom. He might like that. And she might like his reaction. She ran a hand across her belly wishing it was his hand.
She’d planned on becoming a woman during this trip; she hadn’t counted on returning with a lover. Having a man in her life was unnerving, yet her body tingled with anticipation.
- o -
“Looks like you girls have been playing makeup,” Agnes Underwood commented when Daisy entered the living room. “I hope you don’t mind, Daisy. Angie has been doing this since she was six or seven. It’s really quite a stunning effect. Hope you like it. What do you think, Nick?”
Nick swallowed hard. Stunning. There must be a better word. This woman didn’t look quite so innocent. This woman was as mysterious as the Daisy he’d known before, maybe even more so. More sultry. Goddamn, he wanted to throw her on the floor and make love to her.
He gritted his teeth. “She looks very nice, Mom. Daisy always does.” He stood holding the comics over his fly. “We better get back now; we leave early tomorrow morning.”
“It’s not even three o’clock, son,” his father complained. “I haven’t had a chance to beat you at chess yet.”
“That’s okay, Dad,” Angie chimed in, rising to escort her brother and Daisy to the door. “I’ll give you a game. These two have to get a lot of sleep. I expect they’ve been celebrating too hard over their horse’s win.”
“Thanks again,” Daisy said, returning Angie’s hug. She waved at Mr. and Mrs. Underwood.
“You seemed all fired up to go. Was it something I said?” Daisy asked Nick climbing into the pickup. “I didn’t mean to offend anyone.”
“Just drive, Daisy. Don’t go through red lights, but get us back to the hotel as soon as possible.” His breathing sounded ragged. “If we don’t get there soon, you’re going to have to pull over so I can take you right here in the truck. Whatever you and Angie did upstairs turned you into the most ravishing woman I’ve ever seen. And I’m determined to ravish you as soon and as often as humanly possible.”
“Oh,” she squeaked, grinding a gear as the truck lurched out into the street.
Chapter Five
“So what are you going to do with your earnings from Blaze’s win?”
Daisy sat up straighter. She’d been in that foggy state between dozing and wakefulness. Nick had spelled her at the wheel; they were at the first tollbooth on I-90 outside of Chicago. She tried not to think too far ahead. She much preferred wallowing in the erotic memories of the past thirty-six hours. Her sexual education was proceeding quite nicely.
Would it ever end? Reality slapped her in the face like a raw wind off the lake. Money. He had a lot of it; she had practically none. He was from an upstanding family; she couldn’t trace her roots beyond herself. And then there was her druggie sister and her sister’s pimp of a husband. Reggie would sell his soul for drug money. He’d no doubt sold Maxine’s body numerous times.
“I’m sorry. Were you asleep?” Nick asked after paying the toll and getting the truck and trailer back up to speed.
“No. That’s okay. I guess I was just daydreaming.”
“What about?”
Daisy blushed.
Nick smiled. “Yeah, it’s pretty fantastic, even reliving it.” He blew her a kiss. “You can put that wherever you want it the most. So what about your share of the purse?”
Frowning, Daisy twisted in her seat to face him better. “I don’t know. It doesn’t seem right that I get that much money.”
“You own twenty percent of the horse. You get twenty percent of the purse, less twenty percent of the costs. So what’s not right about that?”
“I don’t know. It just seems like I didn’t earn it.”
“The deal was you’d teach me about horses. Remember?”
Daisy giggled. “You sure are a wheeler dealer. I thought the latest revision of the deal was you’d teach me about sex if I’d teach you about horses. Seems like I’m getting more for my efforts than you are.”
“No way!” He gave her a lopsided smile. “And I don’t just mean what’s going on in bed. Believe me, the teacher is getting as much pleasure out of that as the student is. Hell, I’d never be into horses if it weren’t for you convincing me to hold on to Blaze. Haven’t you ever heard of consulting fees? You’ve earned your share of the purse and more. So what are you going to do with it?”
“I haven’t given it much thought.” She clasped her hands in her lap and looked out the passenger window at the fence posts rapidly disappearing from view. Directing her attention back to Nick, she offered, “Maybe I’ll put half of it in my college fund and half in a new account to save up for another horse purchase.”
Nick nodded. “Sounds good, but don’t you ever do anything just for fun? I didn’t hear any recreational plans.”
“I don’t have time. Besides, it’s largely a waste of money I don’t have. Just because I have money today doesn’t mean it’ll be there tomorrow.”
“Sounds like your grandmother talking.”
A trace of a smile formed on Daisy’s lips. “I suppose you’re right. But it’s true.”
“Maybe. No celebrations? Back to the grindstone?”
Daisy reached over and ran a finger up Nick’s thigh. “We’ve been celebrating ever since Rainbow crossed the finish line. Not that I’m complaining. I suppose we can always find time to celebrate something.”
He grabbed her hand and held it against his inner thigh. “Now that’s the truth, kid. Hell, we can always celebrate the fact that the sun came up, or that we’re still breathing, or that you keep flunking your finals in sex education.”
“You’re right. I’ll need a lot more tutoring before I even try that test
again.”
Daisy turned up the apartment window fan to high. She stood in front of the anemic breeze it produced and pulled the sticky tank top away from her skin. At ten o’clock at night, the temperature still hovered near eighty-five degrees and the humidity had to be even higher. If this didn’t qualify as a steamy night in Chicago, she didn’t know what would.
Her door buzzer rang loudly. Maybe she shouldn’t have had the manager fix it. Nick wasn’t supposed to come by tonight. They’d agreed on making some space for themselves. They’d been back only a week, and he’d been over nearly every night. Their lovemaking remained intense, but even that was curtailed for the moment. Her monthly cycle forced a recess in her education. Surely he knew that, so why was he here?
She dashed to the door and flung it open. Her heart tumbled; sex shouldn’t make her brain dead or cost her street smarts. Why hadn’t she peeked through the peep-hole?
“Bitch!” Reggie screamed, slamming her against the wall. “My tips. You didn’t leave a message. There was a hundred to one shot winner this weekend. I should’ve had him.”
Oh my God! She’d forgotten all about Reggie and his betting tips. Trying to show no fear, Daisy slipped out of Reggie’s grasp and walked into the living room, buying time.
“I’m sorry.” She sighed. “You know I had to take a horse to Minnesota to race. I’ve never been out of the state before; I guess I’m having difficulty adjusting. Maybe it’s like jet lag.”
Reggie frowned. “I’ve never heard of that. Don’t know why anyone would want to leave the city. This place is big enough to have everything a body would want and then some.”
His eyebrows shot up. “Bitch, it don’t matter. You owe me. I lost money because you spaced out. Sure you’re not on dope? I could help you there, if you want.”
“No! I’ll get you twice as many tips this week.”
“Make sure they’re good ones.”
“I can’t guarantee winners.”
Willow Smoke Page 8
