Daisy - Sex Stories

Daisy

... envelope at her feet. Daisy’s eyes dropped to it. “Tell Aiden Keane I don’t want his money.”

Donovan stared at her. “You need to reconsider that.”

She looked over at him. “Go to hell!”

“Whatever you lost, young lady, you paid for dearly. That money is yours. No matter how you came about it, it’s part of you now.” He tipped his hat. “Mr. Keane left you a message inside.”

With that said, he was gone. Daisy hugged her legs and tried not to cry. Eventually her eyes did lower to the envelope. She picked it up. It was heavy on one side. Opening it she saw the golden coin. It was Aiden’s prized possession. He’d parted with it. She removed the note.

Daisy,

I took the best part of you. It's only fair that I give you the best part of me. Forgive me.

Aiden

Daisy fell over on the bed. She cried.

It had been two days. Aiden walked the floor to the suite he’d gave Daisy and Pete. He had waited as long as he could stand it. He figured he’d talk to her and help her make sense of it. The hotel confirmed that Pete had left alone. Using his key, Aiden opened the door and stepped inside quietly. Donovan had told him of the state she was in. He was certain to find her in bed. But the bed was made and her things were gone. His jaw clenched. His eyes caught the note on the nightstand. He picked it up and read it.

We're even.

Daisy

Aiden clenched the note in anger. "Damn it, Daisy. It's not over."

Epilogue

6 Months Later

“Yo, Pete? How much longer on ...

... that Ford, man?”

Digging his heels in on the oil-stained concrete, Pete pushed out from under the car. After an hour in that stifling cramped darkness, he squinted under the light of the garage. Grease marked his chin and spotted his faded blue workman’s jumper. He looked as tired as he felt.

“Busted fuel line, Bud. I gotta check on some parts. It’ll be two, maybe three days, before I can get it in.”

“Yeah, well Ms. Baker needs her car so if we can get a rush on it, let’s do it. Keep this up and I’ll give you the head mechanic deal for sure.” His brother smiled as he walked off.

Pete sighed. He sat upright, his arms to his knees. A little more saving and he could get in school. He didn’t plan to be a grease-monkey for the rest of his days. Couldn’t say he was too fond of oil and fumes that were now so far up his nose he couldn’t tell a fresh-baked pie over the smell of a dump truck. He stood and cracked his back. Soreness traveled up his spine. What they needed to do was fix the hydraulic so they could get the cars lifted again. Maybe he’d call Big-boy and they’d make it a project.

Fixing things. That was something he was good at. Now it was lunch time. Removing the dingy rag from his back pocket, he tried to wipe the grit and grease from his hand, an impossible task. The curse of a mechanic was black-ringed fingernails. He’d probably take them to the grave. He smirked, shaking his head. Funny, the things that reminded him of her. Pete stared down at his chipped, ...