Delighting Daisy

DELIGHTING DAI
S
Y

Gideon liked to watch.

He watched now as four couples touched and stroked
, enjoying each other.

Lo
rd, how it wished he was one
half of one of
those couples. The man was dark haired and tall
,
the woman curvy and sassy. He smiled
as he
watched her.

She was the kind of woman he could love. Vivacious, pretty, and like he said curvy. He liked a woman who wasn’t flesh and bones. Whose brea
sts were two of her be
st assets
, her ass being the other.

The law firm of Greyson, Sanders
,
and Delacorte was throwing an enga
ge
ment
party
for one of the partners –
Mike Delacorte. The man
had been his partner in the FBI for years and joined the firm only a few years ago. He
still didn’t know why the man had resigned
from the bureau now
. Gideon had been with the FBI almost his entire adult life and loved it.

But he’d give a little bit of his soul to be where the
other
man was now.

In the arms of a woman who loved him.

In the arms of the woman Gideon had watched Mike
pleasure.
His dick hardened. Remembering.

Damn, he couldn’t go there.
He had never crossed that line between business and pleasure until two weeks ago. And then it had gotten damned blurred.
No, that door was closed to him. Forever. There were some lines friends just didn’t cross.

“Gideon, come join the party.” The object of his introspection
, Beth Ann
Sorenson
,
called out to him,
smiling;
her pouty red lips looked a
s if she had just been fucked i
n the mouth.

Damn. Damn. Damn.

He took a swig of his now tepid beer. It had been a long night.

He waved to her but didn’t move from his place against the back wall.

He wasn’t pining over Mike’s fiancé
, he
was just envious. Damn envious.
In addition to
Mike
, the other two
partners
had found
a
wo
ma
n too. It was
a
damn
ed
epidemic.
One he wouldn’t mind joining.

Gideon was
t
ired of sleeping his way through
the fem
ale population. Well, he used to
do that. In the
l
ast three or four years he had slowed down, and not because of his age, he was still
on the good side of forty
. No,
he’d gotten tired of the pretty
girls,
the young girls, the hot women
,
and the older women. T
he ones who wanted a quick fuck then moved on. Even the ones willing to stay a little longer and express a few darker desires.
Desires he liked to engage in.

No, he want
ed the
trust
and commitment these couples appeared to have found.

Unfortunately, he knew the woman who might just gi
ve him that kind of commitment
.

Daisy.

Daisy Lambert, administrative assistant to the
chief of the
Atlanta
F
ederal
B
ureau
of I
nvestigation.

And one red hot
female.

She was even curvier than Beth Ann. Her hair was dark brow
n, almost black and hung
to
just
past her shoulders
. She wasn’t that young, but closer to twenty than he was to thirty and she wasn’t beautiful. But she
had
curve upon curve. Ripe luscious breasts begging for a pair of nipple clips.

His gaze sought
her out. She was dancing with one of the other partners, Q
uint, the dom. As he’d worked with Mike over t
he years, he’d learned about his partner’s other partners.
Quinton Sande
rs liked his sex a little rough
and a whole lot controlled. Looking at the face of his happy wi
fe, he knew she must enjoy it,
too.

That’s what he wanted.

Which one, his annoying inner s
elf questioned.
The happy wife or the woman who enjoyed his brand of sex?

He wanted both.
His appetites were varied, leaning toward the controlling side.

There was just something about giving a woman an order in bed and her obeying without ques
tion or fuss or giggles. T
he younger wome
n giggled an awful
damn lot, thinking it was a game,
not a lifestyle. He needed the
woman who knew how to straddle the fence.
Knowing the loving could be fun and lighthearted, but desiring that additional layer of darkness.

His dick really started to throb.

He hadn’t had sex in over two weeks. Not since he’d watched, or sho
uld he say listened, to Mike fingering
Beth Ann
to release. If he concentrated he
could still smell her.

“Come on, dance with me. Mike’s talking to Noah.”
The object of his thoughts
walked over and grabbed his hand. He didn’t
have the heart to tell her n
o
. And quiet frankly, he wanted to feel her generous curves pressed against him.

He pulled her close on the dance floor, even though the song really didn’t warrant it. He wasn’t about to blow his chance to hold her close.

“You are a v
ery naughty man, Gideon Sinclair
.” She smiled up at him. He hadn’t known her long,
n
or even now did he know her very well, but he could see she was happy. Damn Mike.

“Not as naught
y
as you, Ms. Sorenson.”

“Gideon!” She slapped him on the shoulder. “You’re not suppose
d
to remind me.” Her face flamed but her smile was still wide and bright. Yeah, she might have been embarras
sed about what they had shared – what they all three had shared –
but she wasn’t ashamed. A big difference.

“But darling, it’s one of my favorite memories of you.” He spun her wide making the skirt of her short evening dress swing around her legs. She looked good tonight.

They danced for a few more minutes. “I closed my eyes.”

His dark gaze me
t hers.
They both knew he was
referring to the night in the cabin when Mike had tied her to the bed.
When Gideon had sat in a soft leather chair with his hands clenched. And his eyes closed. But he’d listened. He’d listen to every moan, every gasp, every cry of pleasure and pain.

And he’d wanted it too.
It had taken all of his control and most of his conscience not to join the two on the bed.

Now he stood on the sidelines again. Alone. Unsatisfied.

“Oh.” Her lips closed together.

“He’s a good man, Beth Ann. He’ll take good care of you.”

“I know. Now all we have to do is find you a woman to take good care of you. You have a very dangerous job.”
A shadow fell over her face.
Mike had suffered a gunshot wound during the case that had quickly spiraled out of control.
Gideon knew the man didn’t regret one moment of that pain sin
ce he’d won Beth Ann
in the end.

He grunted
and continued to dance
. Yeah, his
job was dangerous, but that’s h
o
w
he liked it.

After a few moments, Beth Ann spoke again. “Does Daisy carry a gun?”

“What?” He’d been lost in the
sensation
of a full-figured woman in his arms. He was going to have to get himself one.

“Daisy, does she carry a gun?”

He so did n
ot need to hear that name
.

“No, she’s the admin assistant. Why?”

“Because if she did, I’m pretty sure I’d be dead right about now.” She nodded to her right.

Daisy and Quint had stopped dancing. They stood with Noah and his paralegal,
Tara
. Another couple. When
Mike joined the
m,
Gideon
knew his dance
with Beth Ann
was
over
. He stopped and walked her
over to her frowning
fiancée
. He couldn’t resist le
tting his hand slip below her
waist to cradle her ass.

“Hello.” He nodded to everyone, giving Daisy
a barely there acknowledgement. He didn’t want thoughts of her to interfere with the lingering sensation of Beth Ann in his arms.

He zeroed in on
Tara
. “Come dance with me
,
beautiful.”

Daisy felt hurt and anger war inside her. Yes, there was no reason why Gideon Sinclair should have asked her to dance. Except, she was the only
single woman in the group! Tara had her handsome, smiling boss
, Quint’s woman had made a pit stop
, and Mike and Beth Ann were
once
again
glued at the hip.

But no, the man didn’t ask her to dance. If his greeting had been any
briefer
,
it wouldn’t have existed.

Not that she car
ed. She flipped her dark
hair over her shoulder, saying fuck you without speaking.

She so did care.

Gideon Sinclair was a hot, hot man.
This was saying something considering the room was filled with hot, hot men.
The partners from Mike’s law firm and half the agents from the
bureau
were here celebrating his resignation and his engagement. There room was wall to wall
testosterone
.

And still she couldn’t get a second look.

Oh well, what had she expected? She wa
s not the type of woman to garner
many second glances. She could count on one hand the number
of women in the room who were ove
r a size twelve. She could count
on one finger the numbe
r
of women over a size sixteen – her.

Her frien
ds called her well padded. Unfor
tunately non
e
of those friends were male and non
e
w
ere friends with benefits. Seeing the happiness on the bride-to-be’s face
, the size sixteen in the room,
and the hotty she was engaged to, gave her hope. A small shard, but hope nonetheless.

She accepted another glass of champagne from a passing waiter and took up a post by the far wall. She was good at observing her fellow man. That
’s what
made her a goo
d admin assistant with the bureau
;
it
was
also what made her a very frustrated wanna be agent. The chief had allowed
her only one undercover assign
ment. And only when a female agent couldn’t be found. It lasted about thirty minutes. She’d
taken a female suspect to the airport where she’d handed her over to the air marshal.
Not exc
i
ting at all.