His Best Mistake (Shillings Agency)

by Diane Alberts

  She licked her damp lips. “But—”

  “Daisy…” Shaking his head, he grabbed her shirt and pulled it over her head, cutting her off. When she knelt there, wearing nothing more than a pair of pajama pants and a pout, he cupped his hands on either side of her face. “I’m not looking for more than tonight, or for anything serious, but if I did want more? It would be with you. I just thought you should know.”

  She opened her mouth, closed it, opened it again, then closed the distance between them and kissed him, resting her hands on his chest, dangerously close to his heart. He climbed over her body, not minding her silence to his uncharacteristic statement. Lowering her to the floor, he reached for his khakis. He’d shoved a condom in his pocket before coming here, just in case. He rolled the condom on, his mouth never leaving hers, because he needed to fucking kiss her.

  Needed to remember her taste.

  And how soft her lips were under his.

  Tossing the wrapper aside, he tugged her pajama pants off and groaned when he found out she didn’t have panties underneath. He’d never know what color she’d been wearing today, but now he would always know she slept without panties on, and picture that when he lay in bed alone at night, with nothing but his hand to keep him company. He’d tried to do that tonight. Had attempted to jerk off to forget about her. It hadn’t worked.

  Clearly.

  Her skin was soft under his fingers as he skimmed them up the inside of her leg, slowly inching his way up to her core. Everything about her was addicting. Her taste. Her smile. Her laugh. Her damn red hair. The way her eyes lit up when she laid down a challenge. When he cupped her and slid a finger inside her wetness, she cried out, bending her legs and lifting her hips in invitation.

  “Mark…” she breathed into his mouth, digging her nails into his shoulders. “Please.”

  He nodded, thrusting a finger fully inside her, pressing his thumb against her clit. She cried out, arching her back, and desire took over him as a soft, rosy hue of pleasure crept into her cheeks. He slid down her body, kissing her skin as he went. “You’re so fucking beautiful, it’s ridiculous.”

  “I—argh.”

  He lowered his head between her thighs as he thrust two fingers inside her, curving them just right. She screamed his name, lifting her hips, rocking against him wildly, and the walls of her pussy clamped down on his fingers tightly as she came. His cock throbbed to be deep inside her, but he held himself back, circling his tongue over her gently, bringing her over that edge again. She let out a strangled cry, tears streaming down her face, legs trembling.

  Then, and only then, he stopped, positioned himself in between her legs, and kissed her as he slammed into her with one hard, smooth stroke. And he found heaven. Fucking. Heaven. She wrapped her arms and legs around him, holding on to him as if she would never let go.

  But she would.

  And so would he.

  Growling possessively, he cupped her ass, tilted her hips up, and fucked her without even a hint of restraint. Any control he held on to, any he’d hoped to hold on to, disappeared the second she’d wrapped her mouth around him. He didn’t have to worry about being careful, or tender, or soft. She liked it just the way he liked it. Out of control. Hard. Wild.

  He smashed his mouth on hers, digging his fingers into her tender skin, and she came, crying out and arching her back. Her hard-tipped breasts brushed his chest, and he gritted his teeth, thrusting inside her again and pressing his fingers over her sensitive clit. The second he touched her, she went from relaxed completion to clinging to him, scratching her nails down his chest and abs, and letting out the sexiest damn scream he’d ever heard in his life.

  He kept moving inside her until she came again, and as her walls tightened around him, squeezing his cock, he finally let himself come, too. The whole room, hell, the whole world, faded away until all that was left was her, wrapped around him, and her soft skin pressed to his. He dropped his forehead to hers, took a shaky breath, and then pulled back, staring down at her.

  Her cheeks were wet, her eyes were shut, and her red, swollen lips were parted as she breathed rapidly. She was the prettiest woman he’d ever seen. He should feel guilty for thinking that, because he’d loved Tina with all his heart, but Daisy…

  Damn, she was gorgeous.

  She lifted her lids, meeting his gaze. When she saw him staring, she swallowed and smiled. “Take a picture. It lasts longer.”

  “I would, if you let me.” He cocked his head. “Wait, was that permiss—?”

  “Hell, no,” she said, smacking his arm and laughing.

  He laughed, too, as he pulled out of her, pushing himself to his feet easily. It wasn’t until he was upright that he realized what this feeling, this warmth he felt around her, was. It was happiness. Daisy made him…happy. It was a weird sensation.

  One he wasn’t entirely comfortable with.

  Daisy cocked her head. “What happened?”

  “Huh?” he asked distractedly.

  “What’s wrong? Your smile just went away all of a sudden.”

  There she went, being all observant and shit. Must be the cop inside her. The reminder of what she was, what she did, wasn’t necessary. Neither was the stab of pain in his chest as he relived the moment he found out he would be raising his daughter alone. He shook off that feeling of sadness, of utter loneliness. He had a feeling that after this it would be even worse.

  Smiling, he held a hand out to her, offering to help her to her feet. “Nothing’s wrong, but I want to take a bath in that big Jacuzzi tub with you.”

  “A bath?” She lifted a brow, eyeing his hand. “You’re not leaving yet?”

  “Is the sun up?” he asked, keeping his tone even.

  She glanced over her shoulder at the closed curtains. “No…”

  “Then I’m not fucking going. Bath in the Jacuzzi. You in, or not?”

  “Oh, I’m in.” Smiling, she slid her hand into his. “I’m so in.”

  Yeah. So was he.

  That was the problem.

  Chapter Nine

  One week.

  Seven days.

  One hundred and sixty-eight hours.

  Ten thousand and eighty minutes.

  No matter how she said it, or how she looked at it, it had been a week since she fell asleep naked in Marks’s arms, and a week since she woke up in bed alone, again. A week since the last time he kissed her and whispered sweet words in her ear.

  There was no warm inspirational note from him that time.

  It bothered her that it mattered so much.

  In all reality, she was surprised that she was still thinking about him so frigging much. She barely knew the guy. They’d had some amazing sex, sure, but that was it. They had nothing in common besides the fact that neither of them wanted to be with the other. And yet, she couldn’t stop thinking about him. And she…she…missed him. Ugh.

  She’d tried throwing herself into her work to stop from thinking about him all the time, but since she was stuck behind a desk, that hadn’t been much of a distraction.

  If anything, it only made it worse.

  Lauren sat beside her at the bar, sliding a cosmo her way. “Here you go.”

  “That’s not a Diet Coke,” she said, catching it automatically.

  “I know. You seemed stressed, so I got this instead.” Lauren gestured to the matching drink in front of her. “I didn’t have cupcakes to offer you, so I settled for the next best thing.”

  She would have preferred the cupcakes.

  Daisy closed her hands around the stem of the glass, frowning down at the pink drink. After watching her father drown himself in alcohol after losing her mother, she wasn’t exactly a big drinker. That night with Mark had been an anomaly, her being in a bar and all. And it had been a hotel bar, not even a real one. Staring down at the pink, frothy drink, all she could think about was Mark that night. His laugh. His mouth on hers. His fingers brushing over her skin.

  This wasn’t fair.

 
None of this was fair.

  He was probably living his life, perfectly content without her in it, and she was mooning over a man she didn’t even want to be with. “I’m not stressed,” Daisy said a defensively.

  “Sure you’re not.” Lauren sipped her cosmo, licking her lips. “I can see why you drank this the other night and got freaky in the hotel with some dude. This is good.”

  “Yeah.” Daisy still didn’t touch hers, or that topic. Lauren had been prodding her for more information, but she’d been carefully avoiding the probing questions. “How’s Steven doing?”

  “Good. He’s been busy with work, though.” She took another sip of her cosmo, frowning at the clock. “He’s on a project that’s had him out at all hours of the night, but they just finished up, and he said he can meet us here in ten minutes for dinner. Thank God.”

  Daisy traced the rim of her glass, not taking a drink. “Let me guess. As soon as that last fry touches his lips, you’re out?”

  “Yep. Maybe before.” Lauren grinned. “And I don’t even feel bad about it. It’s been too freaking long since I got some sugar.”

  Daisy rolled her eyes. “Nice. Ditch your best girl in a bar.”

  “It’s an Applebees in suburban Maine. That doesn’t count.”

  She had a point.

  “What’s going on with you anyway?” Lauren asked, frowning at her. She placed her full attention on Daisy, which wasn’t a good thing. She’d missed her calling. She should have been a cop. “Ever since the wedding, and that night with that guy that you refuse to talk about, you’ve been quiet.”

  She lifted a shoulder, avoiding her eyes. “I’ve been busy at work.”

  “Still pushing papers?”

  “Until this thing is off?” She lifted her cast, waving it under Lauren’s nose. “I don’t have a choice. I can’t chase down bad guys with a broken arm.”

  “How much longer?”

  “It comes off next Friday. I can’t frigging wait. It hasn’t even hurt for, like, two weeks. I think they left it on so long just to mess with me.” She dropped her good hand to her lap, not touching her drink. “I’ve had enough of sitting behind a desk to last me a lifetime.”

  “Is it really so bad?”

  Daisy frowned down at her untouched drink. She’d joined the police force as a way to save people from the same fate she’d suffered. Her mother had been shot during a mugging, over fifty dollars she’d had in her wallet. That’s what her mother’s life had been worth to that man who pulled a gun on her and demanded her purse.

  Fifty. Frigging. Dollars.

  At her mother’s funeral, as she held her sobbing father’s hand at the graveside, with the scent of freshly dug dirt and fresh roses intermingling with the spring rain falling from the gray clouds overhead, Daisy had sworn to become a cop. To find the men who did this type of thing, and put them behind bars, so no one else’s lives were ruined like hers and her father’s had been.

  She’d been ten.

  That determination had never faded.

  So, yes, it was that bad to sit behind a desk, watching crimes happen that she couldn’t help solve. “Yes,” she said simply.

  Lauren nodded, sympathy lighting up her eyes. “I get it.”

  “I know you do.” She bumped her with her shoulder. “It’s why I love you.”

  “One of the many reasons.”

  “Of course.” She tapped the untouched cosmo in front of Daisy. “Drink that. I’m hoping to get deets from you about that night at the wedding if it hits you hard enough.”

  Daisy laughed. “Yeah. Not happening.”

  “You swearing off booze now? Scared you’ll find another hot stranger and do dirty, dirty things to him?”

  Daisy shrugged. “You know I’ve never been big on drinking.”

  “Having a drink occasionally doesn’t make you an alcoholic.” Lauren hesitated. “And it doesn’t make you your father.”

  “Are you sure about that?” That night at the hotel, she’d been drinking to forget. That’s what her father did, too. He just did it every night. “Because it doesn’t feel any different.”

  “I’m sure,” Lauren said, covering her hand with hers. “You’re allowed to drink every once in a while, Daisy. There’s nothing wrong with moderation.”

  Yeah, and look what had happened when she drank.

  She slept with a man she didn’t know…

  Or thought she didn’t know, anyway.

  Lauren rested a hand on her shoulder, squeezing. “I’ve never met him, but you’re not your father. Steven was like him, when we first slept together. But now…” She trailed off, smiling. “Now he’s not.”

  “Because of you,” Daisy said softly, knowing it was true even if Lauren didn’t.

  “No. Because deep down, he’s a good guy. Just like you’re a good woman, who won’t lose herself because she had one drink.”

  Was Mark a good guy, too?

  It didn’t matter if he was or wasn’t. She wasn’t interested in dating a vet…not even if the vet was Mark. Heck, especially not then. He was too…too…

  Too much.

  He could keep on working at the Shillings Agency, and she’d keep on doing her thing at the precinct. Separately.

  “He’s here,” Lauren said, brightening like a lightbulb as she waved him over to join them. “Looks like he’s not alone.”

  Probably Holt. They were attached at the hip almost as much as Holt and Lydia were. “Is Lydia with them, too?”

  “No. It’s not Holt. It’s…oh, crap.” Lauren shot her a look. “Before you freak out, this wasn’t me, I swear it. I didn’t know he was coming.”

  “Didn’t know…who…?” Oh God. Oh no. Please, no. Please. Anyone but him. She turned slowly, dread creeping up her spine to settle in a tight ball in her throat, choking her. Sure enough, Mark stood beside Steven, talking and laughing as he shrugged out of his suit jacket. He hadn’t noticed her yet…at least, she assumed he hadn’t, because he was still smiling. “I have to go.”

  She stood, fully intending to slide out before she was seen, but Mark chose that moment to look her way—and he froze, the smile he’d been wearing became plastic and brittle. His gaze dipped down her body, and by the time his eyes met hers, she felt like she was on fire.

  Literal. Flames. Of. Fire.

  And he was a bucket of ice cold water.

  I need some frigging water.

  Turning, she picked up her cosmo and took a big sip before she remembered it wasn’t water. Choking, she set it back down with a clang on the bar. Cheeks hot, she turned back to him and checked to see if he saw her big failure. His lips twitched with amusement.

  Yep. He totally saw it.

  Even from across the room she could see his chin dimple, and her fingers itched to touch it, to press her thumb into that stupid little hole in his chin, rise on tiptoe, and kiss him. His blond hair was swept to the side, and he had a sexy five-o’clock shadow going. Had he been stuck working late at the agency like Steven? It made her wonder who took care of his daughter when he was out late. Chances were he wasn’t a deadbeat dad like hers had been…

  So someone had to be with the child now.

  His mom? His sister? His nanny?

  And what, exactly, did he do at the agency? Was he the type of agent that guarded clients, or did he work in IT, like Holt? She knew nothing about him besides the fact he was good in bed.

  Really, really good.

  Swallowing hard, she fanned her cheeks and forced her mind off him. Or, tried, anyway. And failed. No matter how much she wished otherwise, she recalled with picture perfect clarity how hard his body was under those black pants and blue dress shirt.

  She wanted to latch on to his gray tie and yank him close until their lips met…

  And nothing else mattered.

  Certainly not the reasons why she shouldn’t.

  “God, I’m thirsty,” she muttered.

  Lauren stepped in front of her, blocking Mark from her line of sight. She didn�
�t know whether to hug her best friend, or push her aside so she could get another look. “Daisy, I’m sorry. Don’t go. I’ll tell Steven to get rid—”

  “Hey, cupcake.” Steven came up behind her, throwing his arm over her shoulders, and kissing her temple affectionately. His red hair was as messed up as Mark’s was groomed. Mark stood to the left of the couple, carefully avoiding Daisy’s eyes. “What am I getting rid of for you?”

  Lauren froze, looking like a deer in headlights. She’d never been a good liar, or at being put on the spot like that. “I…uh…”

  “Nothing big,” Daisy said, forcing a smile. “We were talking about her old cupcakes at work, and she asked if I wanted some. I said no, so she’s just going to chuck them and wants your help doing it.”

  Steven frowned. “Don’t throw them away. I’ll eat them. Or we can send some home with Mark for his little girl. Does she like cupcakes?”

  Mark stood beside the couple, his hands shoved in his pockets. “What kid doesn’t?”

  “See?” He offered Mark a tentative smile. It looked like a truce had been called. Maybe all they’d needed was some time working together closely to get over their differences. “Keep them. Mark wants them.”

  Lauren glanced at Mark and bit her lip. “But—”

  “Yeah. Keep them.” Daisy interrupted as she locked eyes with Lauren, her heart racing. “They’re fine exactly where they are.”

  Mark cocked a brow. He knows exactly what we’re talking about…and it’s not cupcakes. “Glad that’s settled.”

  Daisy frowned at him.

  His brow inched higher. He gave her a cool smile, but his eyes…they were anything but cool. They were on fire. He looked like he was about to pick her up, toss her over his shoulder, and carry her away so he could do dirty, dirty things to her.

  And I’m totally okay with that.

  Lauren cleared her throat. “So. All done with the Masters project?”

  “Yeah. We followed that old man around for a week. The most dangerous thing he did the whole time was drive his own car. Someone needs to take his license away.”

  “Seriously,” Mark agreed, chuckling.