Daisy - Sex Stories

Daisy

... that would soon be a million dollars richer. Daisy looked nothing like how he’d seen her last. She wore jeans that were rolled to just below her knees, and an oversized button-down shirt that covered her goodies. No makeup. Her bright brown eyes were oval pools of repudiation.

“Good morning, Pete.” Aiden let his name fall off his tongue with a snide glide. “And Daisy, good morning.” He returned his gaze to her.

Pete glared.

Aiden drank Daisy in with his eyes. She couldn’t hide from him. It was amusing that she tried. “You look lovely.”

Her eyes went to Pete. His cheeks burned hot. Aiden stepped back, moistening his lips. “Come inside, Daisy. I’ve been waiting.”

She paused. Daisy’s eyes continued to bounce from man to man with uncertainty. Fear, or something else he couldn’t name, held her back. Aiden waited, confident of her next move. Slowly, her hand slipped from her fiancé’s and she walked inside. Aiden sized Pete up. He wore his baseball cap down low to his face so it was hard to read him, but he felt the conflict. He could sense the anger Pete was trying to conceal. Gone was the solidarity he saw in the two of them when they held hands. Pete wasn’t really as into the bargain as he pretended to be.

“You can pick her up from here this time tomorrow,” said Aiden. Then he shut the door in Pete’s face.

Chapter Eleven

Daisy walked through Aiden’s suite. It looked nothing like she’d envisioned, but it fit him exactly. Very spacious, neat, no personal ...

... clutter or photographs and few furnishings: it had an empty lofty look. She could smell the faint scent of tobacco and leather.

“Nervous?”

Daisy shook with nervousness and her palms felt hot and damp. Turning under his penetrating stare, she faced her fear. He seemed pleased by her discomfort. She guessed that too was part of his game. Toying with her. Did he really want her to despise him? Why? There he stood, a man that could have any life he chose. Yet, he’d been cold, distant, and mean. Why?

Daisy looked him over. He wore a loose-fitted white linen shirt over herringbone brown linen pants. His skin, the color of cocoa butter, was flawless, and his eyes, the deepest green she’d ever seen, only made him all the more handsome.

“Daisy?”

“I’m fine, thank you,” she mumbled.

“You ready?”

She drew in a breath and the contents of her stomach lurched to her throat. She nearly puked. He stepped to her and instead of stepping back, she stuck her hands in her front pockets.

“I asked you a question.”

“Mr. Keane, I—”

“Yes?”

Daisy swallowed the bile rising in her throat and refocused. Was she supposed to just do it? Here and now? How could she get out of it, stall him? Damn it. She expected more time or something.

“Are you ready?” he asked firmly.

She nodded but stepped back. Her instinct told her to keep her distance. There was such a strong pull with this man, one she didn’t want to dwell on. The closer he came, the more she felt it. He smiled, and ...