by Lauren Layne
“Tell me something, darling,” he said as he pushed her hair forward over her shoulder, his fingers toying with the small metal nub of the dress’s zipper. “If I were to ease this down, would I find the same sexy bra you were wearing for the other guy—what was his name?”
Daisy’s breath was just a little bit fast. “I don’t remember.”
“Good girl,” he murmured as he rewarded her by pulling the zipper down slowly.
He stopped when he got midway down her back, exposing the black lace and pink satin bra he knew would be waiting for him. “Just as I expected,” he said. “Someone was thinking naughty thoughts about getting laid in the office this morning.”
She tried to turn around, but he held her still. “What was it I said I would do to you that night?” he asked thoughtfully as his thumbs drifted over the back strap of the pretty bra.
“It’s sort of vague…”
He leaned forward and pressed his lips against the back of her bare neck before nipping lightly. “Liar. What did I say, Daisy?”
For a moment there was only the sound of them breathing—the air tense with anticipation.
“You couldn’t decide,” she whispered. “You couldn’t decide between unfastening the bra first, or if you wanted to slide the dress off first.”
“Oh, that’s right,” he said, as though he didn’t remember every word and every fantasy from that night. “I couldn’t decide if I wanted to see you in this pretty bra or if I wanted to get my hands on you sooner than later.”
His thumbs skimmed along her back, just as they had that night, before easing the zipper all the way down.
“And?” she asked with a pant. “What did you decide?”
In response, his hands met at the center of her back, his fingers undoing the clasp of her bra.
Lincoln stepped closer, sliding his hands into the now-gaping opening of her dress, palms skipping along her sides before cupping her breasts.
Daisy gasped, and Lincoln stepped closer, nestling his cock against the curve of her ass as he molded her breasts with his hands.
They’d been sleeping together for a week now, and he still couldn’t get over how good she felt. Couldn’t get enough of the feel of her. The taste of her.
His fingers plucked at her nipples as his mouth played over the soft skin of her neck.
“Lincoln,” she whispered in pleasure, her head coming back to rest on his shoulder.
His hands slid back out of her dress, just long enough to push the dress and loosened bra forward and off her shoulders. “Is this what you want?” he murmured against her skin. “To be exposed like this, naked from the waist up so I can feel all of you.”
He brushed the pads of his fingers lightly over the peaks of her breasts, teasing her, and she cried out in want.
His cock got impossibly harder. “What else did I say I would do to you?” he asked, his voice commanding even as he kept his touch light.
“You said that you’d turn me around,” she whispered. “But you didn’t then, because you were afraid if you did, you’d have to kiss me.”
“Did you want me to kiss you that night, Daisy?” His hand stilled, her answer somehow vitally important.
“Yes,” she whispered. “That night. And plenty of nights before it. And since.”
His eyes closed. It was the answer he’d both needed and feared. “And now?”
In response, Daisy turned. She held his eyes as she skimmed her hands down her body, giving the dress the last impetus it needed to slide to the ground. She stepped out of the dress, nudging that and her bra aside with one stiletto-clad foot, standing only in black underwear.
“Kiss me, Lincoln.”
As though there had ever been any other option. He stepped closer, sliding one arm around her waist as the other cupped her face. He bent his head to hers.
Her lips opened to his, and Lincoln groaned. This woman. It took nothing but the taste of her mouth to turn him into a starving man who couldn’t get enough.
It must have been the same for her, because her fingers were frantic as they pushed aside his suit jacket and made quick work of his shirt buttons.
Lincoln let out a tortured laugh as she reached greedily for his belt. “Easy, darling.”
Daisy shook her head and held his gaze. “I don’t want easy.”
Lincoln groaned again, fusing his mouth to hers as he bent his knees slightly, sliding his hands behind her ass so he could pick her up and walk her back to his desk.
“You want it hard?” he asked, setting her on the desk and unbuckling his belt.
She licked her bottom lip in response.
He leaned toward her, but stopped with his lips inches away from a kiss. “Too damn bad.”
He slid his hands beneath her knees, lifting them so that her high heels rested on the desk, and pushed her thighs wide.
Without preamble he used one finger to hook her underwear to the side and bent his mouth to her hot core, his tongue lapping at her in hungry strokes before he settled in to taste her for a while.
Daisy moaned, her legs falling all the way open, as Lincoln braced both hands on the desk, using his arms to support himself as he bent over her, touching her with nothing but his mouth.
He’d been a quick student when it came to all things Daisy Sinclair’s body, and he knew when she was close. Took her to the very edge with his tongue against her clit before easing away right when she was at the edge.
She moaned in protest.
Lincoln shoved pants and briefs down just far enough to free his cock, and roughly jerked her to the side of the desk.
“Here’s your hard, Wallflower.”
Lincoln ripped her underwear down her side, and thrust into her, fast and ruthless, and Daisy put a hand over her mouth to stifle the cry.
He fucked her. He fucked her like his life depended on it, fingers digging into soft hips, eyes locked on the sway of her tits as his body slammed into hers again and again with frantic need.
He was on the brink of a massive orgasm in record time, and his thumb moved down her body, pressing her clit to take her with him.
He quickened the pace, their mutual need almost unbearable.
Daisy’s arms flung over her head at her release, something clattering to the floor as Lincoln met her there in the ecstasy, thrusting inside once more as he came with a harsh groan.
It was so good. Always so damn good. As though he could never get enough of this.
Of her.
He pulled her upright, stealing a kiss. “Best Monday morning I’ve ever had.”
She laughed low in her throat. “Believe it or not, this isn’t really why I came in here.”
“No?” he asked, jerking his pants back up over his legs.
“Cassidy wanted everyone in the conference room. Nine o’clock.”
He glanced at his watch. He had five minutes. “You could have called to tell me that.”
“Oh definitely. I’ll be sure to do that next time.”
He pulled her in for another kiss. “Don’t you dare. Every message in person, from here on out. Sexy dresses mandatory.”
She laughed and went to retrieve her clothes.
Lincoln was bending to retrieve his suit jacket when he saw it.
The item Daisy had knocked off the desk during their furious fucking?
The picture of Katie.
Lincoln froze, staring at it. There was a crack in the frame.
Fitting. Because Lincoln was pretty sure there was a crack in his heart.
And damned if it hadn’t gotten just a little bit bigger.
Chapter 29
Daisy had hesitated before accepting Mollie Carrington’s invitation to girls’ night.
Growing up, she and Emma had always been adamant about having separate friend groups. Sure, they had a handful of mutual friends, but by the time they got to junior high, they’d recognized the importance of being part of a group where they had an identity outside of “one of the twins.”
&nb
sp; Going over to Mollie’s felt a bit like she was stealing Emma’s friends.
But dang it. She really wanted to go. For starters, she liked these women. She’d gotten to know Penelope especially since she worked at Oxford. And Grace too, since Grace not only worked in the same building but was married to an Oxford guy.
She didn’t know Julie, Riley, and Mollie quite as well, but from the time she had spent with them, they too were impossible not to like. Julie was all vivacious and sassy, Riley was outrageous and fierce, and Mollie had somehow cornered the market on being both geeky and sexy as heck.
Daisy had rationalized she wasn’t stealing Emma’s friends so much as borrowing them. And when she’d tried to explain that to Emma, Emma had merely rolled her eyes and grabbed Daisy’s cell phone out of her hand and RSVPed on Daisy’s behalf.
As she knocked on Mollie’s door, she replayed Emma’s words. They love you. I love you. Quit acting weird and be there.
The door opened, and it wasn’t Mollie who answered, but Riley, who stuffed what seemed to be a dip-heavy potato chip into her mouth before motioning Daisy forward for a hug. “Daiz! I don’t see you nearly enough since you’re up there with the boys all day. Ooh, are those brownies? Girls! Daisy’s here!”
Less than five minutes later, a glass of champagne was shoved into Daisy’s hand, and she found herself quite comfortably jumping in on the argument of Italian takeout versus sushi.
She was on the losing side with Italian, but she didn’t care because it felt so darn good to be around people again. She hadn’t realized how much she’d isolated herself since her divorce. Heck, before her divorce.
Now her weekends held the promise of gossipy girls’ get-togethers, her weekdays of a job that, while temporary and borderline tedious, wasn’t horrible. And her nights…her nights were all about Lincoln.
“Uh-oh,” Grace said as they settled around Mollie’s living room. “Is anyone else recognizing that look on Daisy’s face?”
“What look?” Daisy asked innocently, dunking a baby carrot in ranch dip and then sitting cross-legged on the floor next to Julie.
“You’re smitten, sweetie,” Grace said sympathetically. “Is it with who I think it is?”
“Oooh, I love Nick,” Julie said, clicking her glass against Daisy’s. “I totally get it.”
“Um—” Daisy bit her lip.
“Oh, Jules, that’s super old news,” Mollie said, waving her hand.
“How do you know?” Grace asked.
“Jackson told me,” Mollie replied.
“Wait, what am I missing?” Julie asked.
“Lincoln and Daisy are hooking up,” Grace and Mollie said at the exact same time, with a hint of smugness.
Julie gasped. “What? No. Seriously? I’m out sick for two days and Lincoln Mathis is taken?”
“Whoa, hold up,” Daisy said, holding up a hand, and trying to get control of the conversation. “We’re not…”
“Boning?” Riley supplied. “You totally are. Rumor has it you had office sex.”
Daisy’s face flushed hot. “We did not.”
“You totally did,” Penelope said, coming into the living room and plopping onto the couch between Daisy and Mollie. “Trust it from someone who’s had office sex in the Oxford office, you had that look.”
“There is no look,” Daisy argued futilely.
“There sort of is,” Emma admitted slowly.
“How do you know! I didn’t even see you that day!” Daisy said, amusement warring with exaggeration. She wasn’t a prude but it was a little jarring to have friends and family apparently know quite so much about your sex life.
“Yeah, I don’t think Emma was talking about you,” Julie said in a loud whisper.
Daisy’s eyes went wide as she looked at her sister. “You? And Cassidy—”
“—Are not the topic of conversation here, twin dearest,” Emma interrupted, dabbing a bit of ranch dressing from her lip.
Daisy looked around at the group. “What is the topic of conversation?”
Riley wiggled her eyebrows. “Is Lincoln as good as he looks?”
Daisy couldn’t help but laugh. “Is this why you guys included me? To get the scoop on me and Lincoln?”
“Of course not, we included you because we adore you,” Mollie protested.
“And?” Daisy asked knowingly.
“And we want the scoop on you and Lincoln,” Penelope said with an apologetic grin.
Daisy gave her sister a quick glance, wondering if Emma was upset that Daisy hadn’t confided in her, but Emma looked more worried than offended.
For that matter, it wasn’t just Emma who seemed concerned. The entire vibe in the room had just a touch of concern nestled in among all the girl talk.
“I know you guys are protective of him,” Daisy told them softly. “But I’m not going to hurt him. I know what he’s been through. He matters to me.”
“He matters to us as well, just like you do,” Grace said. “Like it or not, you’re a part of this family, and we look out for one another. We don’t want you to hurt Lincoln, obviously, but neither do we want him to hurt you.”
“I adore Lincoln,” Emma said, meeting Daisy’s gaze steadily. “But I love you. I need to know that you know what you’re getting into. That you understand how this is going to play out.”
The rest of the women nodded in agreement, and Daisy jolted a little in surprise as she realized what was going on here. This wasn’t a Don’t you dare hurt Lincoln talk. This was a Be careful of Lincoln talk.
And though Daisy knew they meant well, she felt a little stab of protectiveness. A need to defend his honor. “You all know, right, that the Lincoln you thought you knew was just a mirage. He was never the womanizing playboy he presented to the world. He’s a good guy.”
“He’s the best guy,” Riley said, nodding in agreement. “But sweetheart, that is one damaged dude. The baggage…I can’t even imagine how much the airlines would charge for that.”
“Riley,” Grace said in a low murmur.
“Oh, come on. Like you’re not all thinking it,” Riley said with refreshing candor. “The guy was engaged, and days before his wedding, the girl gets in a car accident, and the result is heart-splintering. He spends two years taking care of the woman he loves who can’t feed herself much less recognize him or herself, and then she dies.”
“But he’s dealing with it,” Penelope argued, before glancing at Daisy. “Isn’t he?”
“He is,” Daisy said slowly, willing it to be true. “I’m not going to say that he’s not going to be dealing with Katie’s ghost for a long while, but there’s been progress. Costa Rica was good for him, and now…”
“And now he’s with you.”
“He’s not with me. We’re not dating,” Daisy said. “We’re just…I don’t even know.”
“And that’s fine.” Mollie’s voice was soothing as she tucked a strand of blond hair behind her ear and leaned forward. “It’s fine to not define it, or apply a label to it. We’ve all been there. And none of our relationships came without skeletons in the closet. I mean, for God’s sake, Jackson was married to my sister.”
Riley raised her hand. “Sam’s my brother’s best friend and made him some bullshit promise never to touch me so we wasted a decade playing cat and mouse.”
Julie snorted. “That’s nothing. I pursued Mitchell for the sake of a story, and he only said yes because of a bet.”
“Jake’s a commitment-phobe,” Grace said.
“My husband only asked me out way back when because my father told him to, and even then he thought he was going out with my more fun twin,” Emma said into her wine.
Daisy threw a carrot at her. Technically, Cassidy had said yes to Emma and Daisy’s father’s request to take his daughter out because he’d thought it was Daisy, but nobody but Emma ever remembered that. And anyway, it didn’t matter. The two of them were like the great love story.
There was a beat of silence, and everyone looked at Penel
ope, who was nibbling on a pretzel.
“Sweetie,” Riley said, watching the small brunette. “Anything you want to tell us about Cole?”
Penelope blinked big brown eyes, then gave a sheepish smile. “Sometimes he’s too agreeable. It gets annoying.”
They all threw carrots at her.
“Seriously though,” Grace said, bringing their attention back to Daisy. “We’re not saying that things have to be all smooth sailing; we’re just saying you should be careful, Daisy.”
“Of what?” she asked.
Emma took over. “Lincoln’s had his heart ripped out in the most brutal way possible, and it wasn’t a quick rip of the Band-Aid. It was a long-drawn-out torture. Nobody wants you to find your happy ending like I do, Daiz. You know that. But sweetie…I don’t know that Lincoln’s it. I don’t know that he can be.”
Daisy swallowed as the truth of Emma’s statement tore through her. On some level, she supposed she’d known what she was dealing with—a man who would never put his heart on the line, not after what happened. But hearing it out loud was a whole other kind of pain.
The kind that reminded her why she’d quit believing in happily ever after.
Because believing, and then having it ripped way…it hurt. It hurt in the way that you never recovered from.
Especially when what you were losing—who you were losing—was Lincoln Mathis.
Her eyes closed as she realized that what she wanted more than she’d ever wanted anything was for Lincoln Mathis to feel about her the way she felt about him:
A forever kind of love.
She also knew it was never going to happen. Lincoln had already had that once. And it wasn’t with her.
Whatever was going on with her and Lincoln was temporary. That’s what her friends were telling her.
Even worse, she knew down to the tips of her pink-polished toes that they were right.
What she didn’t know:
However would she survive it when he left?
Chapter 30
Daisy opened her eyes slowly, grateful for the dim light in her…
Her hands spread to her sides, finding an unfamiliar bedspread, sheets that were just slightly less soft than hers in Charlotte.
