Champagne and Daisies

by SJ McCoy

  Chelsea gave her a puzzled look, but she trotted off in the direction of the ladies’ room.

  Grant smiled at Chelsea. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t help overhearing your conversation. You just broke up with someone?”

  She nodded.

  “Should I leave you to your champagne and your girly night then?”

  Her eyes flickered up to meet his.

  He raised an eyebrow. “I’d like to hang out with you if you want? But I don’t want to spoil your night.”

  She held his gaze for a long moment, then looked down and rummaged in her purse. She pulled out her cell phone and checked it, then she laughed and looked back up at him.

  “What?” he asked with a smile. “Why do I feel like the joke’s on me?”

  “I think the joke’s on me. That was Mary Ellen. She thought you’d like to hang out with me too—and she didn’t want to spoil my night. So, she left.”

  Grant couldn’t believe his luck. “I guess that leaves you in an awkward position?”

  “Not really. If I didn’t want to hang out with you I didn’t need to tell you what she just said, did I? I could have told you it was an emergency, and I had to leave.”

  He laughed. “Yeah. I guess you could. I’m glad you didn’t.”

  She nodded and looked him up and down. “I considered it.”

  “You did?”

  She laughed again. “Yeah, for all of a split second.”

  Grant smiled. He was starting to like the way this evening was going.

  Chapter Three

  Chelsea stood in the ladies’ room letting cold water from the faucet run over her wrists. She needed to cool down—in every sense. She was overheated from dancing with Grant, and from simply being around Grant. There was something incredibly sexy about the guy. He was tall and built with dark hair, long enough to be wavy. She giggled to herself at the desire to run her fingers through it. Oh dear. That might be another reason she was overheated. She may have had a little too much to drink. But the champagne was going down so easily.

  She dried her hands and fished her phone out of her purse. She dialed Mary Ellen and waited.

  “Hey, girlfriend. Are you okay? I’ve been worried about you ever since I left. It seemed like the right thing to do at the moment, but since then I’ve been tormenting myself, imagining he’s a serial killer and that you’re going to turn up dead tomorrow. Should I come back and rescue you? I will.”

  Chelsea laughed. “No. You’re fine. He’s not a serial killer. He’s a really nice guy. I was just calling to let you know I’m okay. I knew you’d worry. Oh, and I talked to Rodney …”

  “Who?”

  “The Maître D’. He told me that Grant’s a friend of Antonio’s, so I know he’s okay.”

  “Oh! Okay then. Good. Thanks for putting me out of my misery. So, go on, tell me, are you going to go home with him?”

  Chelsea pursed her lips.

  “You are! Aren’t you?”

  “I’m a big girl. I can spend the night with him if I want.”

  Mary Ellen laughed. “You sure can. But if you do, you have to tell me if he’s a big boy. He seems to me like he’d be a big boy.”

  “You are so bad!” Chelsea couldn’t help laughing.

  “I bet you I’m right.”

  “I can’t take that bet because I already know you are.”

  “What?! How?”

  “We were dancing, slow dancing, and there was no hiding the fact that he was happy about it—or that he’s a big, big boy.”

  “Oh my! You know, it’s not the size, it’s whether they know what to do with it that matters.”

  “And you know this because …?”

  “Because I read it in a magazine. Honestly. That’s all.”

  Chelsea laughed. “Yeah, right. I’m not sure I believe that.”

  “Whatever. The point is, what are you doing talking to me when you should be finding out the size of things?”

  “I should. And on that note, I’ll leave you to it.”

  “Okay, have fun, and be safe. Call me tomorrow, please?”

  “I will. Thanks, Mary El.” She hung up and looked at herself in the mirror. She looked good. The dress was perfect. She loved to play with clothes, she saw her closet as a big dress-up box, and she had clothes to suit different characters. Tonight, she looked like one of those girls who went out every weekend looking for a guy to go home with. She looked the part; she was going to play the part. Grant was a nice guy—a decent guy, she could tell—but she wasn’t as interested in that right now as she was in the fact that he was an incredibly sexy guy who was totally hot for her. She was going to get back out there, drink some champagne, dance with him some more, and then let him take her home—and she was looking forward to it.

  Grant was still sitting on the sofa where she’d left him. He smiled when he saw her and poured them more champagne. She plopped herself down beside him and took the glass he offered. He didn’t let go of it, and she looked up into his eyes. In a different lifetime, a different world, he would be the kind of guy she could fall for. She shook her head to clear it of such craziness.

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  “I’m fine. Are you?”

  He nodded. “I like where this is going.”

  She laughed. “Of course, you do. You’re thinking you’re going to get lucky, right?”

  He hung his head and then looked up at her from under long, dark lashes. “You got me.”

  She laughed again. “Well, that’s okay because you got me. You can consider this a sure thing.”

  A little line appeared between his eyebrows.

  “Oops! Now I feel stupid. Have I somehow read this horribly wrong?”

  “No, no not at all,” he reassured her hurriedly. “It’s me. I have to confess what I was thinking.”

  “You do?” She gave him a wary look.

  “I was thinking that I should have told you more than I did. I said I’m just passing through, and I am, but I’m going to be in town for a while. At least a couple of months.” He raised an eyebrow.

  She was confused. It had been easy when he said he was just passing through. She could sleep with him, and he’d be gone. Simple. Now he was saying he was going to be around for a while. What did that mean? Her thoughts were bubbling and popping before she could grasp them properly. Was he saying it’d be better if they didn’t go home together? She squinted and focused on his eyes—which were so damned beautiful, she wanted to get lost in them. “So, you don’t want to do this?”

  “I do want to do this, but I like the possibility of it being more than just one night.”

  “No!” She shook her head adamantly. “I can’t do anything more than that. That’s all tonight is about. I’m not in a place where I could or should think about anything more than that. I just broke up with someone, and I have problems at work—problems which are going to start getting much worse on Monday.” She stopped herself, realizing she was talking too much. Instead of continuing, she just shook her head sadly. “It wouldn’t be a good idea.”

  He held up a hand. “No, sorry. That’s okay. It was a dumb idea. I shouldn’t have even suggested it.”

  She started to get to her feet. She should go.

  He caught hold of her wrist and smiled. “Can we just revert to plan A?” His smile was so sexy. He was trailing his fingers up and down her wrist—sending shivers down her spine and the heat rushing through her once more.

  She smiled and sat back down. “I like plan A.”

  He leaned toward her, and her body responded, the fizziness of the champagne bubbling through her. She ran her tongue over her bottom lip, knowing he was going to kiss her. He leaned closer and ran his tongue where hers had just been. She heard herself gasp. “Let’s get out of here,” she breathed.

  ~ ~ ~

  Grant put his hand on the small of her back as they made their way out onto the street. The evening was still balmy,
but it was cooler out here. He needed the fresh air. The champagne must have gone to his head more than he’d realized. Had he really suggested that he might be interested in more than just tonight? It must have been the champagne. Chelsea was hot, she was sweet and funny, but what in hell had he been thinking? Thank God she hadn’t been interested. She had more sense than he did. She’d insisted this was a one-night deal, and when he’d gone to kiss her, she’d taken him by the hand and suggested they leave.

  They walked a little way down the street before she turned to look up at him. “Where are we going?”

  “Wherever you prefer. My hotel’s not far.”

  She nodded. “Let’s go there, then.” Her eyes sparkled. He wasn’t sure if that was due to all the champagne or whether she was just that beautiful.

  When they reached the hotel, he led her through the lobby, and they waited for the elevator. “Are you sure about this?” He didn’t want to ask; he didn’t want to give her the option to back out, but he had to.

  She nodded vigorously and stepped toward him, wrapping her arms around his neck. “I am, aren’t you?”

  His arms closed instinctively around her. “Totally.” He tightened his arms pulling her soft body against him and sliding his hands down to cup her tight little ass. He lowered his head, unable to wait any longer before tasting her plump, red lips. Her arms tightened around his neck, and she kissed him back in a way that told him she had no doubts whatsoever. She slid her tongue into his mouth and pressed her hips against him. He closed his eyes and ground his hard-on against her, making her moan. At that moment the elevator dinged, and the doors slid open. As they stepped inside Grant couldn’t wait for her legs to slide open and let him in. He pressed her up against the mirrored wall and reclaimed her mouth as the doors closed. As if she’d heard his thoughts, she spread her legs wider and grasped his ass, pulling him against her. Damn, she was hot for him. He pushed up the hem of her dress and rocked his hips, making her moan as she moved in time with him. He slid a finger inside her panties and found just how hot and wet she was.

  They sprang apart when the bell dinged again, and the doors slid open. She smiled up at him as he took her hand and led her to his room. He unlocked the door and let her enter ahead of him. She only took a few steps then waited for him to close the door. She leaned against the wall with a smile. “Are you going to offer me a drink?”

  He shook his head and closed in on her, pinning her against the wall with the weight of his body. “Do you want one?”

  She shook her head. Her gaze locked with his while her fingers fumbled with his zipper. “No.”

  “Good.” He slid his fingers into her hair and pulled her head back, giving him better access to her neck. Just as he’d imagined when he first laid eyes on her, he left a trail of open-mouthed kisses across her collarbone and down her throat. He hooked his thumbs inside the neckline of her dress, and to his surprise, she helped out and freed her breasts. His cock ached at the sight of them, plump and full, pushed up over her dress. He ducked his head and took one erect nipple into his mouth. She moaned and rested her head back against the wall. Her fingers had returned to their task and finally freed his cock. He sucked hard on her breast as her small hand closed around him. He needed to be inside her. He pushed her dress up around her waist and then scrabbled in his pocket for a condom. She took it from him, and he closed his eyes and tried to control his breathing while she rolled it on. When she was done, he slid his hand inside her panties, wanting to be sure she was ready. He needn’t have worried—she was soaking wet. He’d thought to take her panties down, but she was in too much of a hurry. She curled one leg around his waist and pulled his head down to kiss him. She’d spread her legs for him, and all he had to do was pull her panties aside and … thrust. She screamed as he drove his cock deep. She was so tight and wet, he thrust again and then stilled deep inside her. He clamped her leg to his hip and braced his other hand against the wall above her head, then began to move. He knew his rhythm, and women loved it. He started slow, and she moved with him, her inner muscles drawing him deeper. She slid her hands around his waist and cupped his ass, urging him on. He smiled and picked up the pace, pounding into her over and over, hurtling them both toward release. She moved with him, faster and faster, as the tension in his body began to build. Pleasure was mounting in the place she held him captive. She was building a ball of fire at the base of his spine; her hands held his ass and kept pulling him deeper into her. His cock grew harder and harder as her inner muscles clenched him tighter and tighter.

  She looked up into his eyes. Hers were glazed with lust. “Oh, God, yes.”

  His cock grew harder as she tightened around him. “Yes.” It started as a murmur, but every yes grew louder as her orgasm tore through her. “Yes!” She screamed it as he found his release deep inside her. He’d thought she was done, but as the waves of pleasure crashed through him into her, her hips bucked wildly taking him deeper and harder still.

  When it was over, he gently pulled back, wondering how awkward this was going to be. Would she stick around for more, or would she turn around and leave? He rested his chin on top of her head and waited. It was up to her.

  Eventually, she looked up at him and smiled. “Plan A was a good choice.”

  He nodded. “It sure was.” Did that mean she was going to leave? He hoped not, but she was starting to look uncertain, maybe embarrassed. “Do you want that drink now?” he asked, hoping it would give her reason to stick around a while—and that they might get a round two.

  She smiled. “I thought you’d never ask.”

  ~ ~ ~

  Chelsea sat on the sofa sipping on the sparkling water he’d poured for her and smiled to herself. He was a big, big boy, no question about it, and she’d be happy to report to Mary Ellen that he knew what to do with it. She bit back a smile, though. Maybe she should try him again, just to be sure.

  He smiled at her. “What’s so funny?”

  She shook her head. “Nothing. I was just thinking naughty thoughts.”

  He grinned. “I think you should tell me about those.”

  “You really want to know?”

  “I really want to know.” He moved closer and dropped a kiss on her lips, then slid his fingers into her hair. “Do you want to tell me, or would you rather show me?”

  “Ooh. I’d much rather show you.” She’d thought that maybe he’d need more time before he was interested in a round two, but apparently, she’d been mistaken. He took the glass from her hand and placed it on the table. He kept leaning forward, making her lean back, until she was on her back, and he was on top of her. Their clothes didn’t last too long. She ran her hands over his broad, muscled chest. “You are yummy. Has anyone ever told you this?”

  He smirked. “Not in so many words, no.”

  She nodded and reached up to plant a kiss on his strong jawline. “Well, they have now. Yummy.”

  He chuckled. “And you, you’re a little vixen, aren’t you?”

  She had to laugh. “Not normally, no. I don’t do this kind of thing.”

  “You should,” he smiled as he spread her legs. “You’re good at it.”

  She frowned. She wasn’t sure she’d want to do this much. It felt good with him—it felt even better as he slid his hand between them and guided himself inside her slowly, but determinedly.

  He thrust his hips hard. “I don’t mean in general. I mean with me.”

  She gasped, as much at his words as at the feel of him entering her, stretching her. “With you? Again?”

  A look of frustration flashed across his face. “I mean all night long.”

  “Ah.” She was relieved and disappointed at the same time, but as their bodies began to move together, the need to take him deeper and the urgency between them left no room for thoughts in her head. She was consumed by the sensations rolling through her body until they reached a crescendo when he tensed and reached his climax. He carried her away with him, stars e
xploding behind her eyes. He only meant tonight, and he was right. They should do this over and over and over until the morning came and brought with it the inevitable goodbye.

  ~ ~ ~

  Grant opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling for a few moments. His head was banging—champagne would do that to a guy. He smiled as the memories of last night came flooding back. Scarlet dress. Chelsea. Champagne, dancing. Screwing each other’s brains out—all night long. He turned on his side. She was awake and smiling.

  “Good morning.”

  “I don’t know about that, but there’s no denying it was a good night.”

  He smiled, relieved she wasn’t embarrassed or awkward. “I wouldn’t want to deny it. You were amazing.”

  She chuckled. “I can’t take all the credit. I’d say it was a team effort.”

  He laughed with her. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. Neither one of us could have managed that by ourselves. Do you want some coffee?” He was hoping that she’d have coffee with him, maybe want to go again in the shower, maybe have a leisurely breakfast and then …

  “No, thanks. I should go.” She rolled out of bed and scooped up her clothes from the floor. The bathroom door clicked shut behind her before he had a chance to argue. When she came out, he went to her, hoping to persuade her to at least stay a while.

  She put a finger to his lips with a sad smile. “Thank you. You’re a good man. You were what I needed. I hope I was something that you needed too.”

  “You were, but I’d like …”

  She shook her head and came closer. Standing on tiptoe, she reached up and kissed his cheek. “I would too, but I think the only real option is goodbye. Take care, Grant; be happy.” She turned around and left. He stood staring at the door for a few long moments before he shook his head and chuckled. How many women had he done that to? How could he complain when a woman did it to him? She was right. For all he may have gotten carried away in the moment, he wasn’t here to spend time with a woman. He was here to work, and he should get down to it. Mr. Hamilton had given him access to Zosca’s books, and he should spend the day looking into them. He needed to put Chelsea out of his head—or at least assign her a proper place in his memory banks. He should file her under, what? The words best night of my life surprised the hell out of him. Yep, it was better that she’d left. He didn’t need to be thinking stupid shit like that!