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Know Her, Love Her: Daisy & Belmont, Book ONE (LOVE in the USA 4)

Page 12

by Z. L. Arkadie

“That was cool. After what we talked about in the cab and then this?” Dexter says.

  “I know. I had no idea.”

  “Are you better?”

  I smile. “A lot better.”

  Dexter and I stare into each other’s eyes just as we did in the cab.

  “I know I don’t have a chance in hell to be with you…” he says.

  Applause erupts, and he stops to wait for it to simmer. My heart is pounding. The way he prefaced what he’s about to say has me worried. I’m having a fantastic night with him. I’ve leaned on him in ways I probably shouldn’t have, which is out of character for me. I do believe some sort of mutual attraction has been the catalyst to our friendship. The noise dies down.

  “But will you let me kiss you?” Dexter asks.

  My breaths accelerate. His robust boner has been poking me all night. I’ve let him grind me in the ass, fondle me here and there. I want his kiss. So I nod and brace myself for what comes next. His hands are against my lower back. Our bodies merge. Our eyes connect. I hear my father’s voice, and we both step back.

  “Ah, ma fleur!” Jacques walks in our direction. “Who’s your friend?” Jacques extends a hand toward Dexter.

  “I’m Dexter Frampton,” Dexter says, shaking my father’s hand.

  “Nice to meet you, man. I’m glad you came tonight,” Jacques says to me.

  I smile. “Me too.”

  “Let’s head this way and talk. Can you give us a bit, Dexter?”

  “Oh, yes.” Dexter sounds as if he’s willing to give my father whatever he asks for.

  Dexter and I give each other a look before I walk off with Jacques and round the corner. At least I now have time to pull myself back to reality. A minute ago, I would’ve broken my cardinal rule and let Dexter have sex with me if he wanted, which I’m sure he does.

  “You were enjoying yourself,” Jacques says.

  “I had a good time.”

  We go inside a dressing room, and he closes the door.

  “Sit,” he says.

  I take a seat on the edge of the sofa. I wonder if he saw Dexter and me about to kiss in the hallway. I won’t ask, but I’m awfully nervous—until he pours himself a glass of ginger ale.

  “Ginger ale?” I ask.

  “Your sister finally convinced me to cut back on the sauce.”

  I chuckle. “She got to Belmont too.”

  Jacques grunts thoughtfully. “Are you and Jack Lord calling it quits?”

  “I don’t know.” I sigh wearily. “I can’t find a way to forgive him for what he’s done.”

  “What the hell did he do this time?”

  I feel as though if I tell my father what happened, then maybe he can magically make it better. “He had sex with another woman. She even took pictures and emailed them to me.”

  “Now that’s some wicked shit.”

  “Yes, but he’s the one who made a vow.”

  Jacques gets the vodka. “I need a real fucking drink after that. Ma fleur, vows don’t end because you fucked somebody else.”

  “We’re still married, so apparently they don’t.”

  “What about you and Dexter?”

  “We’re work colleagues and friends—that’s it.”

  He narrows one eye. I comprehend what he’s suggesting.

  “I’m not going to defile my marriage bed,” I say.

  “Why not? He’s a good-looking cat.”

  “Oh my God!” Talking to him is like talking to Heloise.

  “One outside fuck, and then you call it even. I’ll admit I didn’t like Jack Lord when you first introduced us. I thought, ‘Why the hell is he here with you to talk to me about our shit?’” My dad gestures wildly. “I pegged him as a controlling cat, and I gave him a good three months before you got the hell away from him. But you stayed. I got to know him on our ride to New Orleans. I had to bend his ear some.”

  “Oh,” I say. “You told him to give me space?”

  “I told him to give you a football field of space.”

  I sniff a chuckle. “Thank you, I needed it.”

  “I know you did. I know you, ma fleur. You don’t think I was watching, but I was. If you’d fallen down the wrong path, I would’ve been there to reset your feet. But you always had your shit together, and you still do.”

  “I do?” It sure doesn’t feel like it.

  Jacques takes my chin and lifts my face. “Yes, you do.” He kisses my forehead.

  I smile. “Okay, but I’m not going to defile my marriage bed. I don’t care what you say.”

  “Defile your marriage bed?” He’s mocking me. “Who the hell did you learn that from?”

  I roll my eyes. “Papa, stop.”

  “All right, but here…” He gives me the ginger ale. “Have a drink with me.”

  Dexter joins us. My father runs down a list of family I should visit when I go to France next week. My mother’s parents are included.

  “I have a house in Bordeaux. I want you to stay there for a little while. The fields and lakes and wine will help you get your mind right,” Jacques says.

  “But I have to return to Chicago after we finish shooting.”

  Jacques shakes a finger. “No, ma fleur. You stay in Bordeaux.”

  Dexter looks at me with raised eyebrows, but he dares not raise an objection in front of Jacques Blanchard. My father goes on to invite Dexter to one of Karina’s parties in Iberia. Soon a handful of Betty Moreland’s band members join us, and they tell Jacques what happened on their recent road trip with a boy band.

  It’s after two a.m. when we say good-bye to my father. Funny, he never mentioned Angelina and Charlie’s engagement party. I kept waiting for him to mention it, but he never did. There’s something strange about the whole ordeal. I decide to call Angelina in the morning to get to the bottom of it.

  Dexter and I get in a cab to head home.

  “So…” Dexter says. “Jacques wants you to ditch me.”

  I chuckle. “Yeah, I guess so. A few weeks, months, a year in Bordeaux wouldn’t be a bad thing.”

  “You’ll walk away from our show just like that?”

  I take a moment to ponder. “You want the truth?”

  “Lay it on me,” Dexter says.

  I shrug. “Yes, I would.”

  “Fuck…”

  “You don’t need me in the flesh to make the show successful, Dexter. You want me.” I meet his gaze.

  Dexter licks his lips. “About that kiss.”

  I snicker, remembering my father’s suggestion. I couldn’t guess in a million years that Jacques would say that to me. But then, what else could he say? After all, my father always practices what he preaches.

  “What’s funny?” Dexter asks.

  “Just something my father said when we were alone.”

  “Was it about me?”

  “Um-hum.”

  “What did he say?”

  “He said you were a good-looking cat and that I should fuck you.”

  Dexter laughs. “He said that?”

  “Yep.”

  He nods for a while. “That would be fun.”

  I elbow him playfully in the ribs.

  “But I’ll settle for a kiss for now,” he says.

  I offer him my lips.

  He shakes his head. “Not like this. I want you in my arms, like this.” He gestures as though he’s hugging me tightly.

  I chuckle. “Okay, then after this kiss, does the nature of our involvement change?”

  “Not if you don’t want it to.”

  “But do you want it to?”

  He slides a finger down my cheek, gazing into my eyes. “Javar warned me that I would fall for you.”

  “And did you?” I’m holding my breath.

  “I did, but not in the same way he did. I like your father, and I want to go to this house in Iberia. You’re cool to talk to. I can tell you my philosophical bullshit, and you take me seriously. You’re damn easy to work with. The fact that you’re easy on the eyes is the cherr
y on top. I don’t need to have you in a sexual way. I just want my damn kiss. Oh wait…”

  I frown curiously as he takes a small tin container out of his pocket.

  “I want our kiss to be minty fresh,” he says.

  I laugh as he pops a mint in his mouth and offers me one too. I take it, and we squeeze each other’s hand. As soon as the car pulls up to the house, he pays the driver. Once we’re out, he tugs me against him. Our kiss is soft and deep, and he does taste minty fresh. His hands massage my back, and his dick is so hard, I consider taking my father’s advice.

  “Hey…”

  I panic. It’s dark, but I recognize that voice. We both look behind Dexter at Belmont. He’s dressed up in a pair of black trousers and shirt as if he’s been to a party.

  “Belmont?” I’m not sure I’m not hallucinating.

  He shakes his head and scratches the back of his neck. “I want to punch you, guy, but I’m not going to.”

  “What are you doing here?” I ask.

  “I gave him our address today,” Dexter says. “I’m sorry, Jack. It was just a kiss.”

  My frown deepens. “What?” He saw Belmont today? When? Where?

  Belmont stomps to his car. I contemplate running after him, but he’s walking faster than I can process what just happened. Did he really catch me with my tongue in Dexter’s mouth? His car speeds off as I take my first step toward it. Dexter and I look at each other, confused.

  “Let’s go inside?” he says.

  I nod tiredly. Once we’re inside, I flop on the sofa, and Dexter recaps how he ran into Belmont on the yacht. It makes me wonder what would have happened if I had accepted Dexter’s invitation. Belmont and I would’ve run into each other unexpectedly again. I’m not angry that Dexter didn’t mention he and Belmont had had a conversation about me, but I am happy I wasn’t stuck on that boat with them. That would’ve been awkward.

  “But giving Belmont this address was just the wrong thing to do,” I say.

  Dexter strokes the nape of his neck. “I didn’t think he would just show up out of the blue.”

  “Oh, he will. But…”

  I recall the way he was dressed. I’m sure my father’s concert had been advertised. I wonder if Belmont had been at the venue. Had he watched us all night long? Had he seen the way Dexter and I interacted? I know Belmont and that expression he’d had; a flash of anger didn’t put it there.

  I slap my forehead and fall back against the sofa. “He was there. He saw us dancing and flirting and touching each other.” I wait for Dexter’s response, but he’s silent.

  When I look at him, he’s grinning. “You were flirting with me?”

  I roll my eyes. “Dexter, this is serious. My husband saw us kissing.”

  “And you saw him fucking.”

  I sigh. “I know, but it’s still bad.”

  “It’s not the end of the world. It was just a minty-fresh kiss between friends.”

  I laugh. “Will you stop?”

  “We did it. It’s out of our systems. Now go to bed, because you’re going to need your rest. Javar will be here in the morning.”

  I gasp. “What?”

  “He wanted to surprise you.” Dexter flexes his eyebrows twice. “See you tomorrow, ma fleur.”

  I groan and sink deeper into the cushion as he walks upstairs. This cannot be my life right now.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Poking The Sleeping Bear

  Belmont Lord

  What pissed him off the most was that Daisy had never behaved that way with him. The way Dexter had said nothing when Belmont asked if he had plans for the night, Belmont knew in his gut that the guy wasn’t being upfront. So he asked the girl Dexter had pretended to be interested in if Dexter had made plans with her. She said he was going to a concert. Belmont did an Internet search, and voila! Jacques Blanchard was performing in town.

  Belmont knew in his gut that Daisy would attend. He planned to run into her on purpose. She’d had a week to cool down, and they needed to talk and make love. So Belmont put on his most persuasive outfit and cologne. He purchased a ticket at the box office and positioned himself at the back of the nightclub. If Daisy had arrived before the lights were lowered, then she definitely would have seen him. The longer he waited, the more he questioned whether or not his instincts were right. Maybe Dexter hadn’t planned on attending that particular concert with Daisy.

  Belmont had decided to sit through two more songs before calling it a bust. He had a lot of work to get done before his meeting with Matthew Silver. Belmont had had a packet sent to Matt, and Matt was finally ready to have a serious conversation about how they should proceed. But just in case what he sent wasn’t enough, he’d hired Grey to dig deeper. Belmont had heard Holden Reece was involved in insider trading. If that was true, then Grey had methods of finding the evidence.

  Daisy finally showed up, and Belmont felt the relief of a hunter who had spotted his prey. He studied the way she moved toward the stage. Her hair was stacked high with stray strands fluttering around the edges. The carefree way she styled her hair had always turned him on. She wore that one black dress she often threw on whenever she didn’t want to put too much thought into her outfit. So many times he had peeled the garment off her, sliding his hands up her body and sucking her breasts as the dress went up and over her head. Belmont didn’t like how Dexter kept his hand on Daisy’s waist. A gust of jealousy seized Belmont. He was just about to go steal her away when she and Dexter started to dance. Suddenly Belmont’s feet wouldn’t move. All he could do was watch.

  The song had ended. Jacques made a big to-do about Daisy being there, and she cried. Dexter wiped the tears from her cheek, and Belmont wanted to break his neck. Then Betty Moreland sauntered on stage. When she’d asked Dexter if Daisy belonged to him, Belmont wanted to raise his hand and shout, “She belongs to me!” Dexter had said they were friends, but he didn’t say it as if he meant it. Betty Moreland didn’t believe Dexter, and neither did he.

  Belmont had folded his arms, seething as he watched to see how far Daisy would take things with Dexter. She rubbed her ass against his dick. He had his hands all over her body. They would often stare into each other’s eyes. Belmont wanted so badly to break them up, to take Daisy back to her place and fuck her until they were both clear that no one touched her but him. He despised that she was having a good time and not at home crying her eyes out over their separation. Belmont was on his way to collect Daisy when a girl bumped into him.

  “Sorry,” she had said, smiling. “Like your shirt.”

  Belmont had said thank you and continued to push through the crowd. He stopped when an usher beat him to Daisy and escorted her and Dexter away from the stage. Belmont was going to follow, but he remembered Daisy saying that he always got what he wanted, and not in a good way. She’d made him feel guilty for being himself. But even he was touched by Jacques’s tribute to his daughter. It was Daisy’s father’s turn to make amends with her.

  When the concert had ended, Belmont instructed his driver to take him to the address Dexter had given him. It was a brownstone just like the ones Daisy had admired during their night out in the limousine. The driver found a space to park down the street, and Belmont kept his glare fastened on the house. Hours passed. He wondered if they had decided to extend their night out. As far as Belmont was concerned, he and Daisy were more even than they were before she’d teasingly rubbed against Dexter during the concert.

  Finally a taxicab had stopped in front of the house. Dexter held Daisy’s hand as they flowed out of the car. In one unexpected moment, Dexter tugged her against him and shoved his tongue down her throat. Belmont blinked a few times. He could hardly believe what he was seeing. Dexter grabbed her ass and worked his way up to her tits. Daisy was into it. Belmont came to his senses and bolted out of the car to break them up.

  “Goddamn it,” Belmont muttered.

  He was staying in an office suite on Dearborn near the riverfront. No one but Grey and Herald knew his w
hereabouts. The information Belmont had sent to Matt Silver and Holden Reece was explosive, and there was no way it couldn’t be tracked back to him. He thought it best to keep a low profile until they met on Monday.

  As the night replayed in his mind, Belmont couldn’t fall asleep to save his life. Gaze pinned to the ceiling, he tried to figure out what the hell was going on between him and Daisy. Damn it, he wasn’t prepared to see her in another man’s arms.

  His cell phone buzzed. He picked it up and looked at the screen. There was a message from Daisy: “I’m sorry you saw that. I love you.” Belmont let out an earsplitting roar. A call came through before he could heave the phone at the wall.

  He looked at the screen. “What?”

  “Found it,” Grey said.

  “Is it solid?”

  “As steel.”

  “Tracks?”

  “As water.”

  “Harold will stop by.” Belmont hung up and placed a call.

  Stacy picked up on the first ring. “What do you want from me?”

  “Are you still in Chicago?”

  “You know I am.”

  Belmont ground his teeth to constrain the surge of anger. He said he would call her at seven a.m. to give her an address of where to meet him at eight. Belmont ended the call before she could say anything else. His phone buzzed again. It was another message from Daisy.

  She wrote, “I’m moving back into my parents’ condo. I’ll be there shortly. Just thought you might want to know.”

  “Fuck!” Belmont shouted.

  He texted her back, “How are you getting there?”

  “Taxi,” she replied.

  Belmont didn’t want Daisy calling a cab that late at night. “I’ll send a car.” He paused. “I love you too. Always will.” Send.

  “Ok,” she replied.

  That was it. Belmont was disappointed she hadn’t asked him over so that they could try to resolve things.

  He spent the rest of the night battling the urge to drop everything and show up on Daisy’s doorstep. It killed him that Dexter knew how her tight ass felt and how soft she was in a man’s arms. He was relieved he’d stopped them before Dexter had grabbed her tits. Belmont wanted her succulent tits in his mouth. He tossed and turned, trying to find a comfortable position on the hard bed.

 

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