Sweet Seduction (6 page)

With her back still arched off the bed, she reached around to undo the clasp of her bra, and once it was undone, she tossed it to the floor. His gaze never left her, and she felt it like a physical thing—a caress. Though he didn't say anything to her, his eyes directed her hands as she began kneading her own flesh, circling her nipples with her thumbs, pinching them, moaning at the sensation.

He groaned, a sound of pleasure that ignited her blood and woke a part of her that had apparently been in hibernation. She moved her hands beneath her heavy breasts and lifted them in offering to him.

Jamie made a deep rumbling sound at the back of his throat and dropped to her level, helping himself to her proffered breasts: tasting, licking, fondling them. Gentle at first, then rough. Biting and pinching, until Daisy was crying out in ecstasy.

It was all so good.

But she needed more. She needed to touch him. She needed to feel the connection of warm skin against skin, and Jamie had way too many clothes on. This time when she worked her hands up under his shirt, she knew exactly what she was doing. She knew exactly what she wanted: hot skin over solid muscle. Seriously, the man had the most amazing body, and she needed more of it. All of it.

Fumbling with the buttons on his dress shirt—stupid, tiny buttons—Daisy gave up. “Take it off, please.”

He didn't listen. He just kept kissing her, devouring her as if she was his favorite dessert.

“Jamie.” She tugged the material, wishing she had the nerve to rip it.

He lifted his head to look at her, his hair falling haphazardly across his forehead. He ran a thumb over her swollen lips and said, “You know what's going to happen the second I have my clothes off?”

Daisy nodded. She knew and she wanted it.

“Are you sure you're ready for that?”

Taking Jamie's hand, she pushed it down between them, between her legs, moving her panties to one side so that Jamie could touch her, sink his fingers inside her.

“Oh, baby.” There was that note of reverence again. “You're so wet.” He plunged inside, and Daisy held on to his hand because she could barely stand the intensity of the pleasure.

“Ah!”

With a groan, Jamie withdrew and sat back on his heels so he could finish undoing the buttons on his shirt. “Keep touching yourself, Daisy. It's the sexiest thing I've ever seen.”

Happily, Daisy rubbed herself over her panties, moaning as she massaged her tight clit. Jamie's nostrils flared as he watched, his gaze leaving her body only for the time it took him to remove his cuff links. He tossed them on the nightstand before pulling his shirt off, revealing an expanse of sculpted muscle with ink covering his left pectoral muscle—not what she'd expected—and she reached for him because she had to touch. He captured her roaming hands, kissed them and placed them on his fly. Her pinkies grazed the swollen flesh hidden behind the fabric, and Daisy's body shuddered in anticipation. But before she undid his belt, she looked up. “Tell me you have condoms.”

Reaching into his back pocket, he pulled out a thin wallet and removed a plastic square from inside.

“A regular Boy Scout.”

His chuckle turned into a groan as she undid his belt and then his fly, reaching in to touch him for the first time.

Mercy. The man was certainly well proportioned. And hard. So, so hard. She ran her hands up and down his length, squeezing, rubbing her thumb over his tip, where a drop of moisture leaked. The rumbling sound he made encouraged her to reach deeper inside his shorts until he tugged her hand out, got off the bed and stood to remove his dress pants.

“Panties off,” he ordered.

She obliged him willingly, raising her hips to push them off as he finished undressing. Standing beside the bed, he looked like a giant, a Roman god of massive proportions, perfectly sculpted, virile and all-powerful as he tore open the package and rolled the condom over his length. When he crawled back on the bed, he grabbed her wrists and held them above her head with one hand while guiding himself to her entrance with the other.

“You drive me crazy. Do you know that?” he growled.

“You may have mentioned it,” she said softly, adjusting her body beneath his, parting her thighs to make room for him. This was all so surreal. Jamie drove
her
crazy—crazy with lust and impatience and desire. But for her to have the same effect on him?

That was even crazier.

6

D
AISY
S
INCLAIR
DID
not drive men to distraction—

“Oh!” she cried.

With one sure thrust, Jamie buried himself inside her and all thoughts were gone. There was nothing left except sensation. The feel of him deep, the friction of movement against her channel, his bare skin against hers, chest to chest, the intensity of his gaze, which he refused to break.

A flash of something that resembled pain crossed his face as he withdrew, and for a second Daisy thought he might pull out and stop. Desperation took over, and she tried to pull him closer. “Jamie, don't.”

“Don't what?”

“Don't stop.”

“Oh, baby. I couldn't stop if I tried.” Then he kissed her, his mouth and tongue mimicking the movement of other parts of his body, penetrating her, exploring her, delving deep inside her and filling her up to the brink, again and again and again.

Oh, this was what had been missing in her life. This was what she needed. A big, strong man to make her feel like a woman in every possible way. His body was a perfect fit, moving in and out of her with such pleasurable ease, as if she was made for him. How rare to find someone with whom she shared instant chemistry, and now to find their bodies were a match. It was unheard of. Too good to be true.

“Daisy.”

Even her name was an invocation, and Daisy was completely under Jamie's spell. She held on to his powerful shoulders as his body rocked in and out of hers. She kissed his lips, his jaw, his neck, biting when he penetrated her with particular ferocity, sucking when he withdrew. The shift of his hands to her shoulders heralded an increase in tempo and Daisy met him thrust for thrust, her body awake, alive and on fire.

“Jamie!” she cried. “Oh, Jamie!”

“Come for me, baby. I need to see your face when you come.”

With a cry, she dug her nails into his shoulders as her entire body contracted in shuddering release.

“Yes, Daisy. That's it. That's it.” He stroked in and out once more before a final, fearsome thrust brought their quaking bodies together as deeply entwined as possible. Shuddering and pulsing, no differentiation between where one body started and the other stopped.

Gradually, the shuddering subsided. “That was amazing,” she said, sighing with pleasure, her legs still wrapped high around his waist. “I could do that again.”

He groaned softly in her ear. “Give me ten minutes and your wish just might come true.”

* * *

T
HE
SUN
PEEKED
between her shutters as Daisy lay propped on an elbow, tracing the ridges and valleys created by the muscles on Jamie's chest. She leaned closer, inspecting the tattoo that covered his heart. It was a Celtic design, a cross of some kind, and if Daisy wasn't mistaken, there was a name written in swirly script inside. She traced the script with her finger in an attempt to make it out when a contented, sleepy sound preceded movement beneath her.

Jamie's eyes fluttered open. “Good God, woman. What time is it?”

“Five-thirty.”

He captured her hand, raised it to his lips and kissed it. “Go back to sleep.”

“I can't.”

“Why not?”

“The sight of you distracts me,” she said, repeating what he'd said yesterday. “Plus you're so hard.” She poked at his chest muscle, amazed at the lack of give behind his warm skin.

“Mmm.” He took her hand and guided it down his body, pressing against the growing erection situated at the warm juncture between his legs. “I am.”

She rewarded him with a playful slap. “Seriously. It's like you're not real. How does a lawyer get so strong?” She traced her fingers across his chest again, carefully circling another dark patch she'd mistaken for a second tattoo last night. There was another one on his shoulder. “And why are you bruised?”

He answered her with another sleepy groan.

She sucked in a breath in mock surprise. “Are you a spy?”

“Yes.”

“I knew it.”

Jamie moved so quickly, Daisy didn't see it coming. In one swift motion, he was on top of her, using his knees to spread her thighs, capturing her hands and pressing them into the mattress at the sides of her head. He adopted a pretend scowl. “Now give me the recipe to Nana Sin's cinnamon buns, or else.”

She wriggled playfully beneath him. “Or else, what?”

He nuzzled a spot just below her chin and then lifted his head. “I'll torture you.”

“Torture away,” she said on a sigh. “Because I'll never tell.”

He moved lower, taking a nipple into his warm mouth, and the groan that came out of him made it sound as if he was the one being tortured, not her. Wow! She loved it. Loved the feeling of the hard male flesh pressed against her thigh, loved the near desperate suction on her breast, loved the weight of him on top of her.

Loved it all.

He pulled away to say, “Lucky for you I've got one emergency condom left.”

“An emergency condom?” She arched her chest toward his mouth, giving him the universal sign for
Please don't stop that thing you were just doing
. “How is an emergency condom any different from a regular condom?”

Flicking her nipple with his tongue, he said, “I could tell you, but then I'd have to really torture you.”

“You don't scare me, secret agent man.”

“No?” He released a hand to caress her body, licking his thumb before using it on her nipple, making slow circles. Then he took her in his mouth again.

Daisy was so absorbed in the sensations Jamie was creating that when the timer in the kitchen went off, it didn't even register until Jamie lifted his head. “What's that?”

“Oh,” Daisy said, blinking and wriggling out from beneath him, pulling the sheet around her as she stood. “That's breakfast.”

* * *

C
HOCOLATE
CROISSANTS
,
COFFEE
, orange juice and fruit salad. It was barely six-thirty on a Sunday morning and the woman had whipped up a feast for him. The croissants were still warm from the oven: homemade pastry with rich, dark chocolate hidden inside. Decadent and delicious.

As he chewed, he gazed at Daisy sitting across the table from him.
Decadent and delicious
described her, as well. Though, as he watched her drink her coffee, he noticed she seemed to be having a hard time looking at him this morning. The uncertain woman, the one who activated the protective gene in him, was back. It was strange to see her this way, such a shift from the wildcat he'd barely been able to control between the sheets.

“You never answered my question,” she said, glancing up before focusing on her coffee again.

“What question?”

“Where'd you get the bruises?”

He swallowed the pastry and chased it with a gulp of coffee. “I own a place. To work out.”

“Like a gym?”

“More like a club.”

“What, like a fight club?

“Kind of.”

“Is it legal?”

“Is an illegal club sexy?”

“No.” There was a smile hiding at the corners of her mouth.

“Liar.”

Her smile broke, and it was the most beautiful thing in the world.
She
was the most beautiful thing in the world.

He rubbed his eyes. Jesus. Who was this woman? “You're bad for me, you know that?”

“Bad enough to spank?”

He dropped the croissant and stared. “Stop it.”

“What?”

“You're like...the perfect woman right now.”

She reached across the small table and punched him on the shoulder. Kind of hard. “Is that better?”

“Worse.”

“Why?”

“Because I liked it.” He grabbed her fist and held it. “And perfect women don't exist.”

“Of course not, idiot. Neither do perfect men.” She took a bite of croissant. “But perfection? It's real. It's fleeting, but every once in a while you can find it.”

Her statement was so naively sweet, he almost wanted to believe it. They stared into each other's eyes until Jamie watched the smile fall away from her lips while her eyes clouded with something. Not the uncertainty of before, but something else.

What that something else was, Jamie didn't want to know. After slowly placing her hand back on the table, he cleared his throat, feeling desperate to escape all of a sudden. He finished his croissant in one bite and swallowed the rest of his coffee. Pushing away from the table, he glanced around, looking for something. The exit? His sanity?

His jacket was lying on the floor by the door, and he strode over to pick it up. After shrugging into it, he turned, intending to thank Daisy for breakfast. “I'd like to see you tomorrow.”

What?

He hadn't planned on saying those words; they'd just come out of him. The weird thing was he didn't regret them.

“Okay,” she answered softly before frowning. “I'd like that.”

“Good.” He exhaled the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. Seriously. He had to get the hell out of there before he said something else he might or might not regret. “I'll pick you up at seven.”

* * *

M
ONDAY
MORNING
, J
AMIE
sat at his desk, staring at the pile of Dissolution of Marriage documents that needing to be filed in court for his clients. He sifted through them, figuring there were about twenty. Twenty more reminders that the idea of a permanent union between two people was a myth. Was he jaded when it came to marriage? Absolutely, and he'd lived his life accordingly.

So why did he keep seeing Daisy's face leaning over him, the sun shining around her mass of curls, sexy as sin, her smile naughty as she caressed him into wakefulness, her skin smelling warm and sweet and tasty? Why did he have the urge to repeat that wake-up call? Every. Single. Day?

The ring of the telephone was a welcome distraction, because Jamie had no answer except the unsettled feeling in his stomach. Not good.

“Hey, Jamie, it's Carson.”

Jamie glanced at his watch. It was nine fifteen and Carson Murphy, his partner, should have arrived at the office forty-five minutes ago. “What's up? You sick?”

Carson coughed. Not a sick cough, an uncomfortable cough. “I'm in Florida.”

“What?”

“Yeah, I know. Long story. Listen, I need you to talk to Helen about taking over my files until I sort things out.”

“What's going on?” Jamie tapped his pen against the edge of the desk, thinking about how Carson had been acting strange lately. “Are you in trouble?”

“Nope. In fact, I've finally seen the light.”

Jamie rubbed his temple. “Oh, God. Tell me you haven't joined a cult.”

Carson laughed. “Not a cult.”

“What, then?”

“I'm getting hitched.”

Jamie stared at his desktop. Frozen. Finally, he said, “No, you're not.”

“Yes. I am. Next week.”

“This is a joke.”

“No joke, man. This is the real thing.”

Jamie leaned his elbows on the desk, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Jesus.”

“I'm sorry to dump this on you.”

Once he opened his eyes, his gaze fell back to the pile of documents on his desk. All proof that his friend and partner was making a monumental mistake. Jamie felt compelled to say it. “You're making a mistake.”

“Maybe,” his friend said, “but I don't care because I've never been this happy. Not even close.”

After hanging up with Carson, Jamie sat back in his chair. Carson was getting married? It was impossible. Okay, obviously not impossible, but improbable, because his friend and partner was even more jaded than he was when it came to marriage.

His intercom buzzed. Helen was on the line.

“Jamie, Carson's nine-thirty appointment is here. I don't know where Carson is or what I'm supposed to tell the client.”

“Carson's not coming in,” Jamie said, relaying the phone call he'd just had from his partner. “Get the file together.” He checked his schedule, relieved to see he was open all morning. “I'll deal with it.”

Just as he hung up, a reminder bell went off on his phone. “Make reservations for dinner tonight.”

Something tightened low in his abdomen as another image of Daisy—naked with messy just-had-sex hair—took over his brain. Good lord, he was going to have to be careful around her. He hadn't been this preoccupied by a woman in... God, how long? Ever?

Forgetting about Carson's client for the moment, he typed a search in Google—“most romantic restaurants in Chicago”—and scrolled through the list before finally choosing one that looked nice, but not too nice. Intimate, but not too conspicuously romantic. More importantly, it had good ratings for food.

Perfect.

No. Not perfect.

Perfection didn't exist. But that didn't mean he couldn't enjoy his time with Daisy. For now.