A Perfect Fit

by Zoe Lee

  She took a deep breath, shook off the fairy dust haze of attraction that was clinging to her, and went back to dancing, toning it down to a PG rating. Some men tried to dance with her, but she gently shifted away, the thought of another man so close to her, let alone touching her, wrong.

  It was a while before she saw Dunk again, but he walked—no, he limped—onto the dance floor and look down at her, utterly chagrined.

  “You owe me forty-four dollars, your twig and berries totally got squished!” she half-accused, half-bragged, hands landing on her hips.

  “Well, they are low-hanging fruit,” he quipped, winking.

  “Dunk,” Daisy tsk-tsked, shaking her head slowly, “only a man would think that that’s a boast.”

  He went to pretend to stagger back like she’d knifed him in the heart, but instead he winced and his shoulder curled in a little. “I’m not going to lie, I’m in fucking pain here, Daisy. I need an ice pack. I gotta lie down. Do you want to stay? I could get a bag of frozen peas from the kitchen here and sit down if you wanted to keep dancing and having fun.”

  With a sigh, Daisy touched the edge of Dunk’s jaw. “Don’t be silly,” she chastised him gently. “Can you walk or do you want to get a cab?”

  “I can walk,” he said.

  Then he gently took her hand, tangling their fingers together, and they left the restaurant and walked to their motel.

  “You know,” Daisy chuckled, “this is the first time that I haven’t had to concentrate on walking fast so I could keep up with your long legs.”

  “Really?” he asked with a wince as they stepped down a curb to cross a street. “Why didn’t you ask me to slow down? I like a good amble as much as the next tall guy.”

  “I never really noticed,” she said with a shrug.

  “We both do that, don’t we?” he observed quietly as they went into the motel and around the indoor pool towards their rooms. “Accommodate the people we love, our family and friends? Even if it’s less than perfect for us, or if it would be so easy for the people we love to accommodate us?”

  Daisy’s heart clenched, thinking of their break up fight.

  She unlocked her room, then pulled him in to sit on the bed with him.

  “I try to notice,” she told him quietly. “I bent more than I should’ve with Tyler. Since then, I’ve tried to be firmer. It’s part of why I got a ‘grown-up job’ and stopped wearing so many frilly floral sundresses that make me look… cute. I want people to take me seriously, to see me as an equal, not some princess. To consider my needs equal to theirs.”

  He scrubbed one hand down his face then through his hair.

  When he looked back at her, he looked guilty and upset. “Is that what you were doing when I… when I wanted you to make more time for me?”

  Daisy’s face crumpled and she nodded, her eyes falling to her lap.

  “Oh darlin’,” he murmured, brushing his fingertips over her chin before gently lifting it, his eyes bright with regret. His mouth twisted in an almost sardonic smile. “Me, too,” he confessed, his fingers warm and comforting as they spread to cup her cheek. “You know I’m easy-going, and I… well, before, I let women come and go, I was happy when they were happy, happy with whatever they wanted. They called and I—”

  “Came?” Daisy whispered.

  His regretful expression splintered into a wicked grin.

  He lowered his mouth towards hers, shifting his weight, but then he froze and gasped, “Holy shit, my balls.”

  Daisy jerked back in surprise, her hands flying to his waist to hold him still even as her head hung forward as she bit her lip. She tried, she tried like hell to stop herself from laughing, but… Giggles burst past her lips.

  “I will get you back for this,” he gritted out.

  He got gingerly to his feet and undid his belt and fly, then cursed a blue streak while he worked his jeans down his thick thighs. They dropped to wrinkle like a sad accordion around his calves and he stared down at them mournfully.

  Daisy’s breathing shook with more giggles that she really tried to suppress. She gave up, her hands covering her face as she practically wailed with laughter, “You can’t bend over, can you?”

  She sank to her knees, knowing it was awful of her, and put his hand on her shoulder to keep his balance while he lifted one foot at a time just high enough for her to work off his jeans.

  “I’m so confused right now,” he bemoaned the state of his life. “We were having this heart-to-heart and I wanted to kiss you, so of course I started to get a semi, but my balls feel like I got nailed with a football without a cup on and it hurts like holy fucking hell, and now you’re trying to kill me, on your knees—”

  His dick, just a few inches from her face behind his briefs, twitched.

  He whimpered.

  “I’m so sorry,” she wheezed. “Come on, lie down. I’ll go get some ice from the ice machine—I think I saw one near the vending machines.”

  “This is the least manly moment of my life, Daisy,” he complained.

  “A lot less romantic in real life than in your books when the hero is shot saving the heroine, huh?” she couldn’t help but tease.

  “Way to make me feel like a total baby. Just kick a man when he’s down.”

  Daisy laughed and stood up, retrieving her key card, and tossed a prim look over her shoulder at him. “I told you not to ride the bull.”

  He shuffled around the bed and then lay down on his side, making another pitiful noise. He waved one hand at her. “Just leave me here to die in peace.”

  She grinned at him, since he’d closed his eyes, and snuck her phone out of her purse, quickly snapping a few pictures of him.

  “Was that your camera?” he demanded in horror.

  “You bet your sweet ass it was,” she told him, then ran out of the room.

  When she found the ice machine, she filled one of the plastic bags and then leaned against the wall, shaking her head and chuckling softly.

  Dunk McCoy was ridiculous, and she loved him like crazy.

  Chapter 25

  Dunk

  Dunk woke up happy as hell.

  Last night had been fun, sexy, embarrassing, and enlightening. Not even the persistent throbbing pain in his junk could ruin this.

  But it could delay his plans to sweep Daisy off her feet and make such passionate, perfect love to her that she cried out her love for him with every orgasm.

  Which was why he played it cool the next morning.

  They went to a diner for sausage and eggs and coffee, then got on the road with the goal of reaching Memphis. Dunk took the first shift behind the wheel while Daisy dozed, Dunk admiring how her sunburn had healed, leaving her skin with a more golden hue, freckles dotting her shoulders and the bridge of her nose. They listened to music for a while, and then Daisy plugged in her phone and put on an audiobook that had them cracking up for hundreds of miles until they got to Memphis.

  They were going to go to Graceland and Sun Studios tomorrow, so they decided to relax tonight, going out to dinner and then a movie.

  Daisy picked a funky sandwich shop for dinner, where a kid with a slide guitar and a gritty voice serenaded them while they ate outside. Their sandwiches were amazing and they laughed when they both got brain freezes from the giant milkshake they split for dessert. They wandered around for an hour or so before heading into the movie theater to see the big superhero action movie that had come out a few weeks ago.

  If it felt like a date to Dunk, it was only because it made him acutely aware of the fact that he and Daisy had never gone on a date-date.

  Dating in Maybelle was a strange sort of thing; everyone was so casual and knew everyone that it was almost impossible to go out completely alone. Wherever they ate, friends were at other tables, which people wound up pushing together. Wherever they walked around town, everyone hailed the Coach and chatted easily about whatever sport was in season and asked Daisy to pass on their hellos to her parents or brothers.

 
They’d gone out, had meals and gone to Archer Farm’s tasting room, danced at Wild Harts and Lorenzo’s, seen some third-run movies, and gone to the beach. But it wasn’t the same as this night, where no one knew them, where no one paid them any mind at all, where they were in their bubble and it was just so damn easy and good.

  So, yeah, Dunk had held Daisy’s hand while they walked and put his arm over the back of her seat in the movie theater. He’d paid for everything, pushing her wallet back down into the depths of her purse. He’d leaned over to whisper silly comments in her ear during the movie, not above being smug when it made goose bumps bloom on her skin.

  When they got back to the hotel, Dunk was almost out of his mind.

  Should he drag her into his room? Should he kiss her and then leave her at her room door, wanting more? Should he tell her how he felt?

  Standing next to her while she found her key card, he opened his mouth to ask if he could come in, but she beat him to it.

  “Will you come in?” she asked in that soft, shy way she sometimes had, and he nodded and went into her room behind her.

  “Do you want to watch something or play cards?” he suggested.

  “Can you just—will you just… sleep with me?”

  It wasn’t begging, but it was shy and a little wild too.

  He bent down and kissed her gently. No teeth or tongue, no full-length body contact, just this sweet, simple thing to show her how much he appreciated her, how much he wanted to be close to her too.

  After that, there were no words, as if they were under a spell and didn’t want to break it with sound. They took turns in the bathroom, brushing their teeth with the tiny travel toothbrushes and toothpaste the hotel provided, washing their faces and all that. Daisy changed into some soft, worn tank top and cotton shorts that clung to her ass and the very tops of her thighs, and Dunk just got down to his briefs. They plugged in their phones and set an alarm, then got into bed and turned off the lights.

  Dunk lay on his back and turned his head to look at Daisy.

  “Come here,” he said quietly, and she slid across the center of the bed to press her cheek over his heart, her hand slipping across his stomach in soothing passes. One of her thighs slid over his, her tiny foot wedging under his calf. He ran his hand up her back and into her hair, which was too curly to comb through, but he let it snag and wrap around his fingers.

  Both of them sighed contentedly.

  “I really want to tell you a lot of things and then do a lot of things to you,” Dunk finally broke the silence, his voice rough after all the laughing they’d done in the car and all the talking they’d done at dinner.

  “But you’re still hurting from the bull, right?” Daisy replied in a hushed voice, soft, fond amusement in her tone, no judgment.

  She twisted up to kiss him, her lips parting just enough for her to sigh again across his, and he slid his tongue lightly along her bottom lip so that when she pulled back, her lips were glistening like they did after they kissed messy and deep. “I’ve missed you so much,” she confessed.

  “Holding you is enough, for tonight,” he promised.

  “We’ll be home soon.”

  “Hush now,” he murmured as she settled back down.

  They lay there, Dunk hearing her confession over and over, warming him through and through and settling this part of him that had been so unsure and worried. They drifted, her breaths slowing and quieting, and he cradled her hip and followed her into sleep, feeling loved.

  Dunk drifted awake before the alarms went off, a fan of sunlight coming in through a gap in the curtains, Daisy’s head on his arm, her ass nestled against his hip, her hair tickling his armpit. He was still feeling that centered contentedness from the night before and so he just smiled and closed his eyes again. He lay there, just feeling Daisy so close to him, and realized that the time for fears and wondering were over.

  He wanted to lay out all of their cards and finally really talk about what had been happening over the last several days. They could go to Graceland and Sun Studios and then drive eight hours back to Maybelle, and have that talk in the dead of night when they would probably be delirious. Or they could stretch the trip one more night and have to wait another day to talk, but they wouldn’t be delirious with exhaustion.

  The alarm went off on Daisy’s phone and she mumbled “Shut up” before lurching up to turn it off. She slumped back onto her pillow, groaning, and then rolled over to blink up at Dunk.

  “Mornin, Daisy Rhys,” he whispered, his voice even rougher than it had been last night. “Do you want to go back to sleep and stay another night here?” he offered. “Or skip sight-seeing today and go home?”

  “Too early to think,” she groaned, burrowing into his chest and tugging the blankets more firmly around her shoulders.

  Chuckling, Dunk gently disentangled from her, then brushed her curls out of her face and kissed her lax mouth sweetly. “I’m up now, I’m going to use the hotel gym and shower, and then I’ll wake you up and we can plan, okay?”

  “Mmkay,” she sighed, already limp and asleep again.

  He stroked one hand lightly over her head and shoulder, then got up and put on his workout clothes and sneakers. He left her, the softest snuffles coming from Daisy where she was snuggled up in his warm spot now, and hit the gym for an hour, clearing his mind and centering himself as if he were preparing for a football game.

  When he was done, he returned to their room and opened the door as quietly as possible, only to find Daisy watching tv with a room service tray set up next to the bed, munching a piece of toast with jam.

  “Hey,” he said, “you’re up.”

  She swallowed hard and her eyes swept over him. He knew he was dripping with sweat, but there was nothing but admiration in her gaze.

  “I could get used to this,” she murmured, then flushed as if she hadn’t quite meant to say that aloud.

  Dunk’s heart rate picked up again and his muscles clenched, and before he was aware of it, he’d strode across the room and taken her face in his hands and was kissing her, hard and deep. He was groaning and she was grabbing his shoulders, her toast crunching against his tee shirt before skittering down his arm and falling somewhere on the bed or the floor.

  Her breasts dragged against his chest as she pushed onto her knees so that their bodies could align perfectly. Her hands scrabbled at their clothes until they were naked, his sweat-slick skin making the friction dangerously hot. She shoved at him until she could climb into his lap, her thighs spread over his, and he nipped her bottom lip, breathing harshly into her open mouth as he grabbed her ass and lifted her enough to notch the head of his dick inside of her.

  There was a moment where they both froze, their wild eyes locked together, and all Dunk could hear was the roaring of his heart in his ears.

  “Please,” she whimpered, writhing in his grasp.

  “I’m right here, sweetheart,” he assured her, and moved his hands to grip her thighs, giving her the freedom to push down around him, all the way to the base of his dick.

  It was too much too soon, he could tell by the way she spasmed, by the scream that tore out of her, ragged and fierce. But she barely paused, rolling her hips up and back down, the rhythm getting easier and wetter with every roll, and he gritted his teeth and kept his eyes locked on hers.

  When he began to pump his hips up to meet her, their bodies smacked together, the sounds lewd and perfect enough to make him completely lose the last thread of his control. With a growl, he flipped them so that she was beneath him, and he pinned her hands over her head, their fingers intertwining. He pumped into her, hard and deep, and her thighs wrapped high around his ribs to absorb the impact. It was rough and unsteady, and Daisy writhed helplessly, whimpers pushing out of her open mouth one on top of the other in a constant stream of pleasure. Her skin was flushed and damp, her thighs trembling from the strain she put on them to match him, to spur him on and on.

  If he said anything, he didn’t realize it, c
ompletely focused on their bodies locked together, making sure he ground his hips in circles so that he was somehow deeper inside her than he’d ever been. It was nothing like he’d ever done before; there was no teasing, no fun, nothing but this exhilarating primal urge to cover his woman with his body and show her how much he wanted her, how good she was for him.

  Suddenly she snapped, her ankles locking at the small of his back and her head lifting so that she could sink her little teeth into the meat of his shoulder, screaming, the noise striking through his body like lightning, making him curse and jerk again and again and again until he was spent.

  Stunned, his head hung between his heaving shoulders, his arms actually shaking as he did his best not to crush her with his weight.

  And Daisy laughed, triumphant and joyous, then pressed shaky kisses to his lips, his cheekbones, his chin, her body twitching with aftershocks.

  “I love you, Daisy Rhys,” Dunk breathed, his lips brushing her nipple with every word, her breath hitching. “I love you so much.”

  “Oh,” she hiccoughed, her breath hitching again.

  And then she was clinging to him and crying, so unexpectedly that he jerked in astonishment, his dick slipping free of her abruptly. He didn’t care at all though, focused on whether these were tears of happiness or despair or just plain old “the sex was so good I have to cry” tears.

  “Daisy?” he whispered, still holding her tight, easing onto his side and bringing her back against him, sheltering her since she didn’t seem to want to let go of him. “Sweetheart, are you okay? I don’t know what—”

  “Dunk,” she sobbed, then again and again, as if it were the only word she knew, the only sound that she could make, the only thing in her heart.

  “I’ve got you, I’m right here,” he soothed. “But it would help me if you could say something, like… like you’re an idiot or your dick is so magical that I can’t stop crying, or… or… I love you too…”

  With a giant sniffle, she sat up and wiped her hands over her eyes.