Page 16 of Claimed By the Don

“That’s what you want, for me to quit sending get well stuff to your mom?” I quip. I sit on the leather couch near where Daisy stands and I wait. She finally sits down on the arm of the couch near me and looks me in the eye.

“I heard your dad isn’t doing too good,” she says. It throws me off balance. That’s why she came here—not to use the gifts as an excuse to see me but to check up on me. To ask about something real.

I don’t know what to say. God, I want to tell her everything. She’s perched on the arm of the couch right by me. Her leg brushes mine. I try and fail to swallow.

“He hasn’t been himself for a couple years now. It started with him saying inappropriate things, then it got worse. He forgets what we just talked about the day before. My role went from managing the shipping division to managing him. He’s not taking that very well,” I stop, not sure why I told her all that.

“That sounds rough,” she says. “I’m sorry you’re both going through that.”

“Thank you. You didn’t need to use the flowers as an excuse to come see me, you know.”

She looks unsure for a brief moment. “I left you. I can’t just walk back in here like nothing happened.”

“We would never pretend that nothing happened,” I say.

“Benny,” she says and makes a move to stand.

I slide my arm around her waist and pull her toward me. She doesn’t resist and lets me settle her in my lap. She strokes my hair from my forehead, my cheek pressed to her chest, her heartbeat thundering beneath my ear. I breathe her in and hold her. She sits back, and I lift my head to look at her. She strokes my face, my jaw and cheek, the back of my neck and down to my throat. My pulse leaps beneath her touch. My eyes lock with hers.

What does this mean? I can tell she’s still attracted to me, like I knew the first day I saw her back in town. But she came all the way over to my office to check on me when she heard my dad was sick. She’s not just walking down memory lane here. She cares enough to check up on me.

Now I have her in my lap and I’ll be damned if I let her go again without a fight. The first weapon I have against her six years of stubborn independence is simple enough.

I kiss her softly just beneath the chin. Not quite her neck, not her jaw or her throat, but that soft flesh that loves a kiss. I know that place and the curl of her fingers on my shoulder confirm that it’s still a place she likes to be kissed. I pull her closer, hug her tight for a second like I’m so damn glad to have her back. She spreads her legs and straddles me, her chest flush with mine.

I’m kissing her cheekbone, the corner of her mouth. I tease her lips apart and capture them, soft mouth rocking over hers. Her little moan takes me by surprise the way nothing else has. I stroke her cheek, my thumb rubbing the corner of her mouth,coaxing her to open wider for me. When she does, my tongue sinks into her mouth and I feel her melt.

Her hot, smooth skin is pliant under my touch. Her soft mewl of pleasure matches the stroke of my tongue in her mouth. She wants more. I can tell by the way she plucks at my shirt, finding the buttons and prizing them open to get her palm on my chest.

Her touch sears me, and the throttled sound comes from my throat. I palm her head and trail my lips to her neck. A soft suck makes her curl her fingers on my chest. When her head tips back, I anchor her to me with an arm around her hips. She goes for it then, arms and legs wrapping around me, her body arching. I rock against her, a single stroke of my stiff ridge that makes her twist her hips and rub against me.

A voice in my head—my conscience I guess because it sounds a little rusty—says,not here, not like this. I don’t even hesitate. That voice can fuck off. I have Daisy Cooper back in my arms for the first time in half a decade and not even the devil himself could stop me.

She wriggles back and pushes my face away. I lift my face and meet her eyes. Her cheeks are flushed, eyes fever-bright and her lips swollen from kissing. We’re both breathing so hard you’d think we were climbing a mountain. I let go of her hips and reach for her face instead. I tip my forehead to hers and try to gather myself enough to speak. She has lust written all over her, but doubt in the curve of her bottom lip, the way her eyebrows wrinkle with uncertainty. It’s been years since I didn’t know what to say to someone. It’s what I’m good at, that easy charm. It deserts me now, and face to face with Daisy I’m left with nothing but raw honesty.

“Stay with me, Daze,” I manage. I kiss her cheek softly, then the other cheek. Tender and desperate. “I know we screwed it up before. So bad that you ran away.” It feels like swallowing a mouthful of razor blades to admit it, but it’s true. I clear my throat then, because my eyes burn and my throat feels like it’s closing up. This has to be said, painful or not. “I want to be with you as long as you’re here.”

She rolls her lips under and looks away. It hits me like a slap that she’s fighting back tears. I hurt her that much years ago that it’s still here between us. “I’m sorry, Daze. For all of it. Dismissing you when you were afraid about my work, being a cocky son of a bitch that thought I knew it all. I don’t know a damn thing, except if I don’t ask you this, I’ll regret it the rest of my life.”

Daisy is shaking, trembling under my touch. I pull her to me and hold her. It feels like pieces shifting into place. I kiss the top of her head, some orange shampoo I don’t really like, but under that is the scent of her, one I know so well I wake up missing it.

“We both hurt each other,” she says, which is gallant of her. “I tried to stay away from you,” a watery laugh that breaks my heart. “I came here because I wanted to see you, because I missed you all this time. I could stand it because you were far away. It’s too much now, knowing you’re so close.”

“I know the feeling.”

“I don’t think I want to stay away anymore.”

“Then don’t,” I say, rubbing my lips against hers. Her top lip clings to mine, and we lock mouths again and again, tender and full of wonder, the shock of how good this can feel. “Say yes,” I tell her.

“Yes, Benny,” she breathes against my mouth. I lick her upper lip and sigh with relief when she opens for me.

11

DAISY

I’m in his office sitting on a black leather couch, straddling his lap. His sweet kisses turn filthy and fog my brain. My skin feels fevered, my clothes rough and chafing. I want them off, want to wrap myself around Benny and ride him until everything that’s happened is wiped out of my mind.

I played with fire coming here, and I should’ve stayed away. He’d hate me if he knew why I ran, the secret I’ve kept from him.

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