Intercepting Daisy (15 page)

“My brother left a pair of sweats over here that might fit you,” she said. “At least they're dry. I think I have a big T-shirt.” He thought he saw color rising over her cheekbones. “I think you're going to have to go commando, however.”

“You act like that's a bad thing.”

He heard the sweet sound of her laughter. “So you'll deal?”

“Hell yeah.”

They both were cold, wet, and dripping all over her laundry room floor, but he reached out to wrap his arms around her.

“Thanks for coming to my game.”

“I hope you'll invite me again.”

“Maybe I should check the weather report next time,” she sighed.

He touched his lips to a drop of water about to roll off the tip of her nose. “It was fun anyway.”

“I'll bet you say that to every woman you get caught in a rainstorm with.”

“That wasn't a storm. It's some kind of apocalyptic disaster. And you're the only one I want to get caught in a rainstorm with.”

She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him. Her mouth was soft, and she tasted like mint. She wrapped her arms around his neck. He wanted more, so much more. Despite the fact that he was freezing cold and was going to need some kind of power tool to get his drenched jeans off with, he felt his body respond. He pulled her closer.

“Are you freezing?” she whispered.

“Hell yes.”

“Want to go lie in my tub? I have a bottle of Cabernet on the kitchen counter.”

“Let's go.”

They gathered up the bottle of wine, a corkscrew, and a big bag of pita snacks as they sloshed their way upstairs.

“You don't mind drinking from the bottle, do you?” she asked. “Glass and soaking tubs don't mix.”

“I'll drink it out of your belly button if I have to,” he said.

“I like how you think,” she said.

She pulled him into her bathroom and reached out to close the drain on her soaking tub. “Do you like bubbles?”

“I like whatever you like,” he assured her. “Want me to open the wine?”

“Yes. Please,” she said.

A few minutes later, he'd opened the wine so it could breathe (like either of them gave a shit about that) and Daisy was helping him strip his clothes off.

“I'm not sure how we're getting your jeans off,” she said as she tried to unbutton the waistband. “They're still stuck on you.”

“I'll take care of that,” he said. He pulled her team jersey off over her head. The pretty bra made of sheer fabric she wore was still so wet it looked spray-painted on. If he didn't get his damn jeans off, he was going to explode, but he had to pay a little attention to her reddened-with-cold breasts first. Anyone would have to.

If they could get their clothes off and get into the rapidly filling tub, they'd both be warm. Right now, though, he wanted to hold her and suck the remaining moisture off of her rosy-pink nipples.

He heard the chirp of a message waiting on his phone, which was most likely Blake. Grant could deal with the fallout from today later. He didn't want to think about anything or anyone else tonight but Daisy.

She reached behind her back to undo her bra clasp, and he put one hand over hers. “Let me,” he said. She didn't resist. The bra was wet enough that he pinched the clasp together and got it off in twenty seconds. He dropped it on the rapidly growing pile of clothes on her bathroom floor.

“It's not very romantic in here,” she whispered to him. “There should be candles and rose petals floating on the water or something. Mr. Bubble isn't cutting it right now.”

He reached out to shut the water off. “Mr. Bubble works just fine,” he said. “Let's get in the tub, and I'll show you.”

They worked together to pull his jeans off and left them in a sodden heap. She shucked her uniform shorts off in record time. Minutes later, they were both naked, and after dragging a hand through the water to test the temp, he lowered himself into her tub.

He held out a hand. “It's perfect. Come on in,” he said.

She stepped in, narrowly missing his junk, and settled back against him. She let out a long sigh. “I should have shut the lights off before we got in here.”

“Why?”

“Dim lights. Wine.” She leaned back against his chest, glancing at the open bottle of wine on the bathroom counter. “I should have grabbed that.”

“Daisy, we don't need it,” he murmured into her ear. He mounded soap bubbles on her belly and covered her breasts with them. “Relax.”

He felt her damp and still chilly skin warming due to the hot water and his hands moving over her. He closed his eyes. She still smelled like sunshine and flowers, and he felt her heave another sigh. “Maybe we should stay in here.”

“We'll have to get out when the hot water runs out,” he said.

She twined her fingers through his. “I have a tankless water heater. We can hold out forever.”

He wrapped his arms around her abdomen. The only sounds in her house were an occasional splash and their breathing. He let out a long breath. He was hard against her, but they had things to talk about before they got busy with each other. He wasn't sure how to start the conversation. He'd rather start the fun in Daisy's tub, carry her into her room, and have sex all night than discuss his shortcomings with someone he didn't want to disappoint. Maybe he should blurt it out and get things over with.

“Something happened today,” he said. “I need to talk with you about it.”

D
ESPITE THE HARSH
circa-1990s overhead bathroom vanity light and lack of romantic accoutrements, things were moving right along in Daisy's tub. Her hair was still soaking wet, but every inch of her that touched Grant was warm and cozy. His fingers strayed dangerously close to her crotch. She let her legs fall open in invitation. She wriggled her lower back against his erection.

“We really need to talk,” he murmured.

“We've got all night,” she said.

His fingers moved closer to the point of no return. Actually, they moved closer to her clit. The soap bubbles might work as a makeshift lube. Then again, she was so wet that all he had to do was draw his fingertips through her labia; he'd have plenty to work with. She moved against his erection again. If she reached behind her back and between them, she could do something nice for him while his fingers moved closer and closer to the target.

She couldn't quite reach his penis. “You first,” he said. His damp hair was a veil, but she could reach his mouth. She took his face into her hands and pulled his mouth over hers. His tongue slipped into her mouth, darting, stroking, and inciting. Her moan was swallowed in his kiss.

He reached between them, tipped her up a bit more against his shoulder, and slid a finger inside of her. He thrust slowly. She moved against his hand. If she opened her legs a bit more, slung one leg over the side of the tub, and wriggled a little—there. He slipped two fingers inside of her while the heel of his hand slid against her clit in the slow rhythm he set.

Her breathing accelerated. She let out another moan. She was torn between wanting the orgasm she knew was building and flipping over on her belly, straddling him, and screwing his brains out while they splashed water all over the bathroom floor. “Oh, God!” she cried out.

“Faster?” His voice was low and dark.

“Yes. Yes. Oh! Oh.” She tried to spread her legs even farther. Damn bathroom wall. He picked up speed a bit. She'd managed to tip herself almost out of the water. She kept moving. She felt the first small flutter of what she hoped would be a huge orgasm in her belly. “A few. Faster,” she moaned.

“Yeah,” he groaned. “Come all over me.”

His fingers and the heel of his hand brought her to an orgasm so intense she screamed. She felt him jump a little in response. His fingers didn't stop, though. His movements slowed a bit, but he kept stroking his fingers in and out of her through the fireworks that burst behind her eyelids, the strong contractions she felt, the heat that spread through her.

“I'm going to make you scream again,” he said.

“I . . . I . . . ” She had no idea what she was trying to say. She was lost in an overpowering world of sensation and feeling. He continued to touch her gently, rub her, and whisper into her ear.

“Let go,” he said.

She couldn't concentrate on anything besides his voice and his teasing, thrusting fingers. She would do anything. She flattened her other foot against the bathroom wall to offer him more access, felt his hand move a bit more quickly, and cried out as the contractions began again.

She wasn't sure what happened next. She came back to herself slowly. She slumped against him. One big hand was over her crotch as he cradled her in his other arm. She still felt fluttering in her abdomen, and she opened her eyes as she heard his voice in her ear.

“Are you okay?” he said.

She'd never been so relaxed. They'd probably made a mess out of the bathroom, but who cared? She pulled one leg back into the tub and rolled over to look into his eyes.

“I'm great,” she said. She reached up to tuck some of his hair behind one ear. “I'd like to do something for you too.”

Things were still twitching between her legs. Damn. If she'd known multiple orgasms were this great, she would have tried them a long time ago. Somehow, she knew it wouldn't be the same if it happened with any other man. She knew in a blinding flash she didn't want to try it with any other man, either.

“Really?” he said.

“Oh, yeah,” she said. She reached out to grasp him in one fist. “Still want to talk?”

“Later,” he said.

G
RANT AND
D
AISY
wrapped each other in bathroom towels and hurried into her bedroom. He was somewhat amused to watch her shut and lock her bedroom door before she put two hands in the middle of his chest and pushed him down on her bed. He'd already discovered she was surprisingly strong, and she had no problem taking charge. He wasn't objecting.

“Are you expecting someone?” he teased.

“Just making sure,” she said. She reached under his pelvis, pulled his hips to the edge of her bed, and grinned up at him. “My parts might need a little rest before—well, you know.” She sank to her knees in front of him. “You don't mind, do you?” She swirled her tongue around the head of his dick, and he let out a long groan. “I was hoping you'd say that,” she said.

Less than three minutes later, she had him begging. She teased and taunted him with her mouth, getting him close and backing away just before he exploded. “Shit. Jesus. Daisy. I need to come,” he groaned.

“Later,” she teased.

“Wait until I get my hands on you—”

“I can't wait,” she said before bringing him to the brink again. She reached into her bedside table and squeezed something over her fingertips, rubbing her hands together briefly. “Ready?”

“God. Fuck. YES. Shit!” he called out. He opened his eyes long enough to see what she was doing. She was licking him, rubbing him up and down while manipulating his balls with her other hand, and sweet baby Jesus, he was going to explode. “I . . . I can't . . . Fuck!” he called out.

He came so hard the edges of his vision went black, and he saw stars.

Grant heard his cell phone ringing as Daisy flopped down next to him on her bed.

“Do you need to answer that?”

“Voice mail,” he said as he fought to catch his breath.

He could call them back if he was still among the living in an hour or so. Having sex with Daisy wasn't some sweet, languorous encounter. It was hot, sweaty, took every ounce of his strength, and he wouldn't have it any other way.

They hadn't gotten to the main event yet, and he was already wiped out. Maybe he was getting old or something. Right now, he wanted to scramble under the covers with her and rest.

“You wanted to talk earlier,” she said. “You're not dumping me or something, are you?”

The smile on her face was playful, but he saw something else in her eyes. She was bracing herself for whatever reason. He got off the bed and pulled the blankets down so they could crawl inside. He propped the pillows against the headboard. He held out his arms so she would nestle against him.

She ran her fingers through his chest hair. “So, what's up?”

He let out a long sigh. “You might want to dump me when you hear this,” he said.

“So, we're together now?”

“We weren't before?” he said. “I want to be with you. Do you want to be with me?”

“Yes,” she said. She laid her hand over his heart, which was beating a bit faster at her nearness. Her scent, the softness of her skin, the sound of her voice, and the way she snuggled against him—he never wanted her to leave, he realized with a shock. He'd been searching for her, and he hadn't realized it until now. And he had to tell her the truth.

He took a deep breath. His voice, when it came, sounded shaky to his own ears. “I've been lying to everyone I know for a long time now.”

He heard his cell phone ringing again in the silence.

“Want me to get that?” she said. Her voice sounded casual, like he'd just confessed to leaving the carton of milk in the refrigerator with half an inch in the bottom.

“I'll get it later,” he said.

“No, let's get it now.”

The ringing stopped and started again. There might be an emergency with his parents. Maybe he should get out of bed and find out who was calling and what they wanted. She hopped out of bed, disappeared into the bathroom, and closed the door slightly.

She got back into bed a few minutes later and handed him his cell phone. He had twenty-six missed calls since he'd been at the soccer field with Daisy. Ten of them were from his agent. The other sixteen were a mixture of his teammates and members of the media.

“Something's wrong,” she said.