29. Chapter Twenty-nine

The bed felt wrong. Cold. That was what drew me out of the deepest, most satisfying sleep I'd had in ages. When I realized I was alone, I shot up with a start, my head whipping right and left, searching for Daisy.

She was nowhere in sight.

Gone?

Even if she'd needed to get home, she would have told me goodbye…right?

The bathroom door swung open, and Daisy stepped out in her dress from last night. Her head jerked back when she saw me up and awake.

"I thought you'd snuck out."

"Not yet. I do need to go soon, though." She pinched the sides of her dress. "I haven't done the walk of shame since college."

I raised a brow. "Are you ashamed?"

She chewed on her bottom lip, eyes sliding to the side then back to me. "No. I wasn't ashamed back then either. I just don't like anyone knowing my business."

"That you've been fucking all night?" I filled in.

She snorted a little laugh. "Indeed. And what a night it was."

"Worth it?"

A nod, then she crossed the room to my bed. Placing her knee on the mattress, she leaned over me.

"In a different world, under favorable circumstances, I'd say we need to do that again," she murmured. "Since we only had the one night, I'm glad it was that one."

She pecked my nose. As she pulled back, I caught the back of her thigh, tipping her over onto me. Her shriek pierced my eardrums, and her flailing limbs smacked me in the face and shoulders. I circled my arms around her and yanked her up my chest, bringing us face to face.

"Tell me what's going on with you, Cupcake. You were sad yesterday, and I'm feeling those blues radiating off you again. Talk to me."

Propping herself on her forearms, she sighed. "I didn't mean to bring my bad mood with me to the wedding."

"Don't worry. I'm the only one who noticed, and that's because I know you so well. Is it Reed? Something happened with him?"

"No." She shook her head. "Andy stopped by before the wedding."

"Dick," I muttered.

"He came to tell me he's engaged to Samantha."

"What?" That was the last thing I'd expected her to say. It should've been more like he'd come to plead with her to take him back, to grovel on his knees, beg for her hand. "He's engaged? But…?"

"Yeah. Turns out, he doesn't mind getting married, it was getting married to me he didn't want." She blinked hard, turning her head. "I shouldn't have been surprised."

"Why shouldn't you have been? I can guarantee Samantha is boring as hell compared to you."

She gave me the Dunham squint and pinched my chest.

"Maybe he wants boring. Maybe he wants a girl whose name doesn't come with a reputation. Complicated is fine when you're dating. When you settle down for life, easy is what everyone wants. He never would have gotten that with me."

"Yeah, I'm not into you making excuses for him. What he did to you was messed up, and coming to your place yesterday was even worse. He made you feel unworthy?"

After a beat of hesitation, she nodded. "I guess he confirmed it."

"All he confirmed was that's what he thinks. As far as I can tell, his opinion doesn't mean shit since he's obviously a dolt."

"A dolt I spent seven years with. What does that say about me?"

She wiggled off me, and I let her go. Something hit me square in the chest. Something ugly I wanted to deny. But goddamn if the truth wasn't blaring me in the face.

"Daisy?"

She stood next to the bed, smoothing her dress. "Yes?"

"Did you sleep with me last night to forget?"

After a beat, she nodded, and my chest cracked in two. I felt like I'd lost something, but I couldn't name it.

"Did it work?" I shoved out of my tightened throat.

"For a little while," she whispered. "Thank you for being there for me. Always."

When she was gone, I got up and showered off her scent like I was getting rid of evidence of a crime. Last night had been…unwise, but also inevitable. I hadn't had time to consider what I'd thought it was, but Daisy losing herself in me to take her mind off the man she loved marrying someone else had never crossed my mind.

Not when every second we'd spent in bed together had been all about her. Nothing beyond these walls had existed. That was my problem. Hyperfocusing on the wrong thing. Not seeing the forest for the trees. If I'd paid attention, I would have seen she wasn't with me for me, but the distraction I could provide—the ability to make her feel good after the man she really wanted had crushed her to pieces.

With anyone else, I wouldn't have minded being used in such a way, but this was Daisy. For her, in a different world, we'd have more than one night together. For me, if conditions favored us, I'd have all my nights with her.

The next time I saw Daisy, she greeted me with a smile that was unnatural on her. Lopsided. Not meeting her eyes. Like it was only there because it was held up by a string.

I'd taken her to a social event at my parents' club—after ensuring they were off-continent on a wine tour in Italy with close friends. The way I was feeling, if I had a run-in with either of my parents, none of us would come away unscathed.

Daisy wore a navy blue sundress with one side of her hair pinned behind her ear. I swallowed the urge to stroke her bare skin with my fingers, my tongue, my lips, my cheeks. The only concession I gave myself was one light touch no sooner than ten minutes apart. My boundaries were the center of her back and the length of her bicep.

Daisy laughed at something the man we were speaking to said. Her arm brushed against mine, and she shared her crinkly smile with me. When she didn't move away, keeping her arm aligned with and pressed against mine, I had to step to the side. We'd had several of those incidents already, and each time, I became more sure she was doing it on purpose.

She looked up at me, her crooked smile fading. "Should we go for a walk? I'm told there's a lovely lake outside."

"Man-made," I replied.

"I think I'll check it out. I could use some fresh air."

She turned, heading for the doors leading outside. I gave myself a few minutes to decide: stay or follow. It was safer to remain where I was, but night had fallen, and now, Daisy was on her own out there, so it wasn't safer for her.

I followed a path I'd taken a few times before. The gardens were ostentatious in their verdancy. Red rocks and sagebrush would have been more appropriate for the area, but I wasn't a member shelling out the big bucks for the water bill so my opinion didn't matter.

Daisy was standing on a short ledge, her elbows propped on a wooden railing overlooking the lake. Fountains shot water up in several spots, and colored spotlights made it somewhat of a show.

I stepped up behind her, bracing my hands on either side of her arms, allowing myself to do this on a technicality. We weren't touching, but I was close to her, almost embracing her.

Her breathing shuddered, and her eyes fluttered closed.

That was all it took for me to be reckless once again.

Her breathing.

Something her body did automatically, without any effort or conscious thought.

Dear god, was I easy when it came to Daisy Dunham.

She leaned her head on my shoulder, and I gathered the back of her skirt until it was at her waist. Smoothing my palm down her lower back, I cupped her ass, hooking one finger around the barely-there floss between her cheeks.

"Miles," she whispered, arching into me. The softness of her backside met my rigid cock, grinding against me.

We weren't alone. People were outside, their voices carrying from the balcony of the room we'd just left. Anyone could walk the same path we'd taken and stumble across us, finding a couple wrapped in each other. A man in a suit, his jacket open, flanking a woman in an A-line dress, her skirt fluttering around her shins. They would not see her bare backside or her thong shoved to the side. Nor would they see me sliding my fingers through her folds to roll her swollen clit.

If they took one look at her face, tilted upward in the beginnings of rapture, they'd know. As it was, I was the only one being tortured by Daisy's parted lips and huffing breaths as I toyed with her clit and ground my cock against her.

"Do it, Miles," she breathed. "Fill me up."

Rotating my wrist, I stuffed two fingers inside her. She bit down on a moan, her insides squeezing me.

She shook her head against my shoulder. "No, you. I want you in me."

I stopped moving my fingers and lowered my mouth to her ear. "If I do this, you have to be completely quiet or I'll stop."

Her nod was near frantic. "I can be quiet."

The sound of my zipper coming down made her gasp, but she swallowed her moan and held still for me. With her in heels standing on a ledge, we were perfectly aligned. I flattened my palm on her lower stomach, tipping her to an angle that brought the head of my cock to her entrance. She wriggled, trying to pull me in, but I waited, gathering patience from a fount far deeper than I'd ever realized.

Finally, she exhaled, giving in, and only then did I sink into her, inch by inch, until my pelvis met her plush, round ass. There, I stayed in the torture of her tight heat for as long as I could without moving.

It was lucky I did.

"Lovely night," a man called as another couple strolled by on the path behind us.

"Absolutely beautiful," I answered.

He walked on with his woman, leaving us with the sounds of our mingling breaths and nearby grasshoppers. Once they were out of sight, I pulled almost all the way out of Daisy and slid back in, bottoming out again. Her hands covered mine where I held her at her stomach and the curve of her hip.

"Miles," she whispered.

"Daisy," I grunted beside her ear.

I pushed into her, flesh hitting flesh. It sounded so loud, out here in the still of the night, but there was no one around to hear it. I kept going, intoxicated by her.

Lips on her shoulder, the side of her neck, I took in her scent—cupcakes, sugar, and undeniably her.

Trapped between me and the railing, she had no choice but to let me have complete control. Reaching up, she hooked her hand on my nape, holding on as I moved inside her with forceful thrusts. Going as deep as I could, pulling out as far as I could bear before needing her heat to cover me all over again.

Now that I knew what this was—scratching an itch and nothing more—it was easier to get lost in the feel of her—the pleasure her body wrought from mine. It's why we were both here. Not the closeness—the worship and caring—slow kisses and long looks.

None of what I'd mistakenly given inside our hotel room.

"I'm close," she whispered.

I didn't know what I was. Tuned in and disconnected at the same time. Wires crossed and frayed. I wanted her, and I was pissed at us both for that. I longed for her, and here she was, right in front of me, but I wouldn't take any more than was offered—a tight pussy and inevitable release.

Holding both her hips, I bent her forward to drive into her, not caring about our public position. Now, I was chasing my own release as well as hers.

I felt her fingers moving between her legs, desperately rubbing her clit to get herself there before I came. She didn't need to worry. I never would have left her behind.

Covering her hand with mine, I rolled my fingers over hers. She moaned into her arm, her teeth digging into her flesh. It wasn't enough to muffle it from me, though. Her sounds spurred me on, making me want to tip her head back and devour her lips, swallow her noises, but dear god, I was trying not to be self-destructive. Kissing her that way, pretending this was more than the meeting of basic needs, would only lead somewhere I didn't want to be.

We rode each other to our own climaxes, quietly, and for me, entirely fucking unfulfilling. When I unloaded all I had, I fell forward, my nose buried in her hair. Her sweet sighs echoed in my hollow chest. She reached for one of my hands, pulling it beneath her chin so I was half-embracing her, and nuzzled my wrist and knuckles.

For one minute, I let it happen. I wanted it. Telling myself I felt nothing for her was a lie I couldn't sell—not even to myself. I did not take anything other than her face rubbing against my hand. I did not pull her into my arms and kiss the top of her head, nor did I get down on my knees and clean the mess I'd made between her thighs.

Once I'd counted to sixty, I pulled out. "We should get back inside before we're caught."

Silence, then a heavy sigh. "You're right. We're supposed to be here to make contacts and look at us. This was irresponsible."

That was exactly what it was.

She let out a giggle. "No one else I'd ever be this irresponsible with."

I froze in the process of rearranging her dress. If she thought for a second doing something like this with someone else was a good idea…no.

"No, Daisy. You should only be with someone who's careful with you."

She spun to face me, and for once, we were nearly at eye level. "I can't imagine anyone being as careful with me as you are, Miles."

"One day, Daisy, someone will be."

And I wouldn't be around to see it.