Page 107 of Bitter Rival

Besides, Daisy will be long gone by then. What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.

She slinks lower in her chair and rests her feet on the coffee table, her eyes on the wood-beamed ceiling whirring with fans. “Last night, I had a dream that you were the Beast and you danced me all around the ballroom. Then you morphed into the prince and set fire to the castle. So it’s obviously symbolic.”

“And I’m guessing you preferred the Beast but ended up with the prince?”

Her lips turn down at the corners. “So much for a fairy tale with a happy ending.”

“I can give you a happy ending, Daisy.” I give her a wicked grin and some jazz hands. “I gave you three just the other night.”

“About that…” She chews on her lip and lowers her eyes. “I know we didn’t set any ground rules and I know we’re just hooking up. But from now on, if you’re sleeping with me, you’re not sleeping with anyone else.”

“I assumed that was a given.”

“So you weren’t with someone tonight?”she asks, her gaze flitting over my face.

That’s why she thought I was late.

I haven’t been with another woman since this whole thing began. “If you’re asking if I was with another woman, no. There was a bad accident, and I sat in traffic for hours.”

“Was anyone hurt?”

“I can’t say for certain, but I’m assuming the answer is yes. If anyone survived that crash, it would be a miracle.”

“Oh God.” She looks visibly shaken. “Are you okay?”

Daisy sounds so sincere. Like she actually cares. It amazes me that she can be angry one minute and then turn around and be concerned for me in the next. “I’m fine.”

She frowns. “That bad, huh?”

“It was that kind of day.”

“Did the closing go okay?”

I shrug. “It’s done. No point in dwelling on it.” I have mixed feelings about the whole thing but it’s over. And now Grayson wants to get out of technology altogether and “diversify his portfolio.” The turncoat.

Looks like I’ll be on my own for the next startup, but I don’t want to think about any of that right now.

Not when Daisy is sitting across from me, her hair hanging in loose waves around her shoulders, in an oversized T-shirt. Her black bra strap is visible where her T-shirt slid off one shoulder.

I lean forward and set my glass on the coffee table. “But I know how you can make it better.”

“What a coincidence. So do I.” She rises from her chair and skirts the coffee table then grabs my hands and pulls me to my feet. “You look like you could use a hug.”

“I had something a little different in mind. You. Down on your knees with my?—"

“You’re getting a hug, not a blowjob,” she says, wrapping her arms around me and hugging me tight.

I’ve gotta hand it to her. Daisy is a world class hugger.

If I were a fan of hugging, I’d award her the gold medal. But hugging is right up there with post-coital cuddling.

What’s the point? None that I can see.

“I wish I could hate you,” she says, squeezing me tight.

We’re still hugging. “I doubt it will take much effort on my part to make you hate me.” I keep my arms around her but only to make it easier to walk us backward.

When the back of my legs hit the sofa, I sit on the cushion and pull her into my lap so she’s straddling me. “Nothing a little hate sex can’t fix though.”My hands slide down her back and I squeeze her ass cheeks, drawing her closer.

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