Fuck my life.
A crowd on the other side of the glass was riveted to the unfolding drama inside the shop window. Like I was a showgirl, and this was the main act.
“Daisy, are you okay?” Amber rushed in to help.
I nodded, still feeling winded.
She glanced at the many faces looking in. “Are you trapped?”
“I’m just going to lie here until my luck changes for the better.”
She looked amused as she hurried forward. “You really do love this dress, don’t you?” She gripped the mannequin by its waist and pulled it up, placing it into its pre-Daisy disaster position. She easily re-inserted the dismembered arm.
“Want to try it on?” she asked. “It’s your size.”
“What’s the point?”
“It’ll be fun!” Amber began unhooking the dress.
I climbed to my feet. “We’ll get in trouble.”
“I’ll say I spotted a moth. Was pulling the dress out until I’d hunted down the insect. I’ll be awarded Shop Assistant of The Month! Grab a dress off a hanger.”
Within minutes, we’d switched out the gown for a little black dress. Not quite as glamorous but at least we’d not left a naked mannequin in the window for the wierdos to gawp at.
I followed Amber across the showroom floor toward the changing rooms. She chose a cubicle for me.
“I’m not sure about this,” I said, nervous about touching the dress again.
She threw her hands in the air. “What else would you be doing?”
I’d be on the Tube with my head in a book, trying not to think about how my life was always so calamitous. Trying not to think about him.
Trying on this dream gown was probably the only thing that could cheer me up. I kicked off my shoes and stripped down to my underwear.
Within the cubicle, Amber helped me step into the dress. She fastened the catches on the back and then gestured for me to step outside. “Go see yourself.”
I left the cubicle and waltzed up to the full-length mirror on the wall.
The gown fit perfectly, the bustier pushing my breasts up and making my waist appear smaller. It was fun to imagine wearing this dress at some posh party, the other guests throwing me admiring glances. Lifting my hair above my head, I turned this way and that to see the gown from all angles, the crystals twinkling hypnotically beneath the lights. It could have been made for me.
Amber looked me up and down. “Yeah…wow.”
My shoulders slumped at the realization that my dreams would never become a reality. The woman who would wear this dress one day belonged to a different world.
“You need shoes! Let me get my favorite ones from the back.” She scurried away.
The quiet was a welcome change from the constant humming of voices and music that went on throughout the day. The throng of shoppers that usually buzzed around us were gone, just a few stragglers and staff were left.
I needed to get out of this dress. I reached for the catch at the back, but it was too low. I stepped out of the changing room.
“Amber, forget the shoes.”
The place was deserted.
Turning, I let out a surprised gasp.
Max was standing there, dressed in a leather jacket and jeans, the beauty of his features belying his sexy ruggedness.
“You really are versatile,” he said. “One night a clown, the next night a princess.”
“Go away or I’ll call security.”
“Daisy, you’ve not been answering my calls.”
“My phone’s been off.”
“The dress looks better on you,” he said.
“As opposed to…?”
“The one-armed mannequin.” He gave me a crooked smile.
My eyes closed for a beat in embarrassment—he’d been one of the onlookers in the crowd.
His admiring gaze traveled up and down my body. “You look stunning.”
“I’m not supposed to have it on.”
“You should wear it all the time,” he said softly, his deep voice sending tingles down my spine.
“My friend will be back any second,” I said breathlessly. “She’s going to help me out of it.”
“Is that Amber?”
“Yes, how do you know her?”
Max’s gaze devoured my figure, roaming down to my bare feet before returning to my flushed face. “I was worried about you. That was quite a fall in the window.”
“I was more worried about the dress.”
“The dress can be replaced.”
I shook my head. “Not this one.”
His expression softened. “I’m glad you’re not hurt.”
“I’m very flexible.”
“Hmmm, yes…I know.”
I glared at him to let him know I didn’t think his comment was funny—even though it was.
He moved closer. “I wanted to explain something.”
“No need.” I turned to go.
“Daisy, please. Last night, I meant what I said—even with all that clown makeup on, you were still the most beautiful woman in the room.”
“You tried to change me.”
“That wasn’t my intention. Look, I really care about you. Please believe me. We’re not ready for those words, those rare and precious words that say so much more, but I know we could be saying them to each other soon.”
I placed a hand on my chest, trying to remember how to breathe.
Max let out a sigh. “When I helped you move into your aunt’s home, I got to see where you’d be living. You and I had those few moments of reflection, sitting together on your bed while I looked around at that room. I saw your sadness and it broke my heart. I wanted to do something wonderful for you.”
“Why?”
“You deserve the best that life has to offer. I want you to take the kind of chances that will lead to happiness. I want you to follow your dream, and if it happens to be designing shop windows, I want that for you. I want to see you in there doing your thing. Not on your ass, obviously. Though it might bring in more shoppers.”
“Are you saying you weren’t trying to change me?”
“Never. When I came back to offer you new glasses to replace the ones I broke, your aunt told me that all you’d been doing was staying in your room.”
“You felt sorry for me?”
He shook his head. “I wanted you to thrive. I didn’t want to walk out of your life and leave you feeling that way.”
“What am I to you, Max?”
“You got inside my heart, Daisy. You did what I believed was impossible. You gave me hope that my life could be more than work and loneliness. I felt compelled to spend more time with you…”
I took a deep breath. “I’m not boring now, am I?”
“Oh, Daisy,” he said, his voice wavering, “you have never been boring…you were just afraid of being hurt.”
I gave him a tremulous smile. “Can you help me out of this dress, please?”
“I can do one better.” He stepped forward and lifted me into his arms.
He carried me through the showroom and past the few remaining shoppers who gawped at the handsome man carrying the girl in a posh dress. A few of my co-workers who saw us walk by smiled and gave me a thumbs-up.
“Where are we going?” I asked, as we headed towards the exit.
“Back to my hotel.”
“But the dress! I have to take it off.”
“You’re currently wearing my latest purchase, so I have no choice but to bring you along.”
My face flushed with the realization that he’d bought this beautiful gown for me.
Amber caught up and handed me my handbag with my shoes sticking out of the top, laughing as she waved me off.
I buried my face in Max’s neck as he carried me outside to the waiting town car.
Carl was holding the back door open for us.
Before releasing me, Max dipped his head, his lips finding mine. As we kissed, the world slipped away.
In that moment, all that matte
red was us.
I, Daisy Whitby, was giving The Great British Bake Off a run for its money. I’d poured my heart and soul into baking something special for Max. The feelings I had for him were so intense, all I could do to endure them was to keep myself busy—while trying to suppress a nagging fear it was all too good to be true.
I took a deep breath, feeling a rush of excitement that he’d be here soon.
Yesterday, he’d carried me out of Harvey Nichols while I was wearing the most beautiful gown in the world—the same one I’d been ogling through the shop room window after work each day for weeks.
Turning my attention back to baking, I checked the pot filled with boiling water, watching it steam around the pudding. The dish had been baking for over an hour and its sweet smell filled the kitchen.
Still wearing my oven mitts, I tried to pinch myself. When that didn’t work, I looked up toward heaven in awe. I’d never met anyone as amazing as Max. And he’d told me he felt the same way.
This was all so new, but it felt so right.
When the doorbell rang, I sucked in a nervous breath, pulled off the oven mitts and threw them on the countertop.
Still overwhelmed with how my life had gone from crappy to incredible in a few short weeks, I wanted to hold on to these magical feelings.
When I opened the door and looked at Max standing on the top step, I almost forgot how to breathe. He was holding a bouquet of white lilies, looking sexy in his jeans and leather jacket.
“I wanted to buy you the entire flower shop. But the florist told me that was a bit stalkerish. Wouldn’t be a good look on me, apparently.”
“They’re beautiful.” My eyes stung with tears of joy.
He gave me a crooked smile. “Can I come in?”
“Of course.” I stepped aside.
“What are you cooking?”
I glanced down at my flour-covered apron. “A surprise.”
He followed me down the hallway and into the kitchen. “Is the surprise for me?”
I grinned at him. “You introduced me to Brazilian cuisine. I want to introduce you to the delicate art of British baking.”
I found a vase and filled it with water, and then set about arranging the flowers, admiring the white leaves bursting with life.
“Well, I have tasted British food before.” Max looked amused as he shrugged out of his jacket and laid it over a barstool. “I spent my summers here, remember? Not that I’m not grateful.”
“I bet you’ve not tasted this delicacy.”
“Something tells me I’m going to be blown away.” He leaned in and trailed kisses along my neck, moving to my chin.
The press of his lips to my mouth stilled my reeling thoughts, his firm body trapping me deliciously between him and the countertop. Being in his embrace made all of my concerns, all my worries, slip away. His tenderness gave me the faith I needed to trust in our happiness.
The timer buzzed.
“It’s ready,” I announced.
He continued kissing my neck. “I don’t mind it being a little overcooked.”
I moved away from him towards the oven. “Not with this. I have to take it out of the pot.” I pulled on the oven mitts and waved them at him playfully. “I can’t wait for you to taste this.”
Reaching into the large pan, I removed the dish and carried it carefully over to the plate waiting on the central island. Tipping the porcelain dish upside down, I let the dessert slip onto the waiting plate. The fluffy sponge was perfectly formed and covered in currents, their sweet scent wafting around us.
Max gave me an uneasy smile. “This isn’t what I think it is, is it?”
“Don’t knock it til’ you’ve tried it.”
He backed up a little. “No way.”
I reached for a teaspoon and scooped out a mouthful from the top of the sponge for him to taste. Max raised his hands in the air, shaking his head and playfully declining.
“I baked it especially for you.”
“You went to all this trouble, for which I am grateful. Can I just admire your talent from here?”
“You can’t say no.”
“This is me saying no.” He stepped back farther, laughing.
I raised the spoon toward his mouth. “You have to eat the spotted dick!”
“I’m not eating anything that has the word ‘dick’ in it.”
I chased after him down the hallway with the spoon. “Pretend it’s called something else.”
“It doesn’t work like that.” Max pivoted and burst into the living room.
“Where are you going? I baked this for you!”
“Help!” He laughed raucously as he backed up against the couch.
I waved the spoon in front of his face. “Eat it.”
“What have I ever done to you?”
“Close your eyes if that helps.”
“It doesn’t.” He fell back onto the couch.
Straddling him, I pressed the spoon to his mouth. “Humor me.”
He let out a sigh of frustration. “Only because you baked it, Daisy. This is me proving how much your happiness means to me. And I’m not promising that I’ll ever eat this or any other British food again.”
“Max!”
He opened his mouth and let me ease in the spoon. He chewed slowly, his expression changing from one of doubt to delight.
“It’s good, right?” I coaxed.
“Delicious.” He sounded surprised.
“I’m so happy!”
“Why did they have to call it that?”
“They called puddings ‘dick’ back in the nineteenth century.”
“I’m sure that piece of information will come in handy one day.” He pressed his lips to mine and smiled against my mouth.
I eased back a little. “See, it’s good to try something new.”
Huskily, he said, “I want to watch you eat the spotted dick now.”
I squealed with delight at his double entendre and we burst into laughter. He twisted me around on the couch so that he was lying on top of me.
“You know what happens now, don’t you?” he whispered, easing the spoon out of my hand and tossing it onto the coffee table.
I played innocent.
“Who knew British cooking could be so arousing,” he teased.
Lifting my hips, I let him tug my jeans down until they reached the top of my thighs. He leaned low and pressed his mouth to my panties.
“Max,” I said wistfully.
He raised up onto his elbows. “What’s wrong?”
“You and me…”
“I promise I won’t hurt you,” he whispered.
I cupped his face with my hand. “I feel like I’m dreaming.”
“This is very real.”
“Thank you for the flowers. They’re beautiful.”
“You’re beautiful, Daisy.”
The press of his lips to mine sent a shudder of delight through me as my fingers trailed through his hair. He unbuttoned my blouse next, peeling it open and tugging down my bra. His tongue circled my nipple and then drew it in, suckling, sending a jolt of bliss. His kisses trailed south, and he pulled down my panties and jeans, easing them off. My heart raced as his hands pushed my thighs apart, and I felt his tongue lick the folds of my sex.
His tongue trailed kisses down my leg to my ankles, and then he worked his way back up. “Every part of you is perfect.”
“I don’t like my knees,” I admitted.
“I can assure you there’s nothing wrong with them.” He sat up. “Your Honor, I would like to submit into evidence these two gorgeous knees. Along with these silky soft thighs.” He kissed my inner thigh. “I rest my case.”
Easing myself up, I leaned toward him and unzipped his jeans, watching his reaction as my fingers eased out his erection. He was firm and hard and felt amazing in my hand as I stroked its length.
Kneeling before him, I drew him into my mouth and took him all the way to the back of my throat, worshiping this man, thanking him for all he�
��d been to me.
“Daisy,” he said, sucking in a breath. “That feels incredible.”
I let out a long moan at the sensation of having him fill my mouth with his girth; he moved me in endless erotic ways.
“I need to be inside you,” he growled, flipping me over and shoving me toward the end of the couch.
My gasp of surprise caused him to chuckle.
On my hands and knees with him behind me, I jolted when his fingers traced along my sex, parting me there, and then entering two fingers inside me. He tenderly strummed me until my body was pushing back against him, needing, wanting more of him.
“You’re always on my mind,” he said gruffly. “I can’t stop thinking about you. Can’t bear to be away from you.”
My back arched when he thrust in deep. Max pulled all the way out and then shoved himself all the way inside me again. My body exploded with pleasure, causing ripples of lust that stole my next breath. My hips moved fiercely against him, pushing back, while I begged him not to stop. He reached around, the tips of his fingers finding my clit and rubbing it, sending me over as he came with me, catapulting us both into a blinding climax.
He collapsed next to me and I fell on top of him, my head resting on his chest, hearing his heartbeat, and quickly being lulled by it.
I only had myself to blame.
Had I been more present for Nick during this visit to London, had I insisted he spend more time with me than that new girl of his, this would never have happened. He’d have completely focused on his training and his head would have been in the game.
It felt like my fault that Nick had been injured and hospitalized. The details were only to be revealed when we spoke with the specialist in person. Nausea welled up in my throat as my imagination took off—maybe the coach had pushed him too far, too fast? Maybe Nick had clashed with another player?
My phone pinged. The text was from Daisy, but I’d have to answer her later. I had to see Nick first and make sure he was okay.
This London facility, with its sprawling campus and state-of-the art medical care, specialized in sports medicine. Nick would be distressed to find himself here.
At the end of the hallway, I saw Mum sitting in a chair.
I rushed toward her. “What happened?”
Gillian looked pale. “The doctor’s in there with him now.”
Maximum Dare Page 17
