by Cathryn Cade
Dana waved a desultory hand at them. “No, honey, you can watch from the pool.”
“And let your mother open her gifts in peace,” their father added.
“Daddy!” the girls protested in unison, but they giggled.
Daisy swam over to the ladder and clambered out of the pool. Without bothering to dry off, she padded over to stand dripping in the sun near the table. The sun felt good on her wet skin. She watched as Dana picked up the gaily wrapped book.
“Hope it’s a read I’ll like,” John teased, leaning over to watch.
At that moment, Cora let out a wail like a fire siren. “Daddy! Zoe pulled my hair on purpose.”
“Oh, for—” John shoved back his chair and stalked around the table toward the pool. With her husband in charge of the altercation, Dana continued to unwrap Daisy’s gift. She pulled the wrapping aside. Her eyebrows flew up, and she shot Daisy a look from under them.
Foreboding crawling up her spine, Daisy stepped closer. The partially unwrapped book had a bright red cover. “Oh, crap,” she blurted. “That’s my book. I gave you the wrong one.”
Without missing a beat, Dana tucked the wrapper neatly back in place and handed the book to Daisy. “Good. For a moment there, I thought you were trying to tell me something.”
The other adults watched quizzically. Ignoring her flaming cheeks, Daisy took the book back. From across the table, Deb widened her eyes at her in a demand not to be left out. Daisy hesitated and then jerked her head toward the house.
Deb rose, satisfaction in the tilt of her chin. “I need another drink. Anyone else?”
“Hey, what was the book?” John asked, coming back to the table.
Deb laughed as she passed him. “Shh. It’s a secret.”
In the house, Daisy turned on her middle sister. “You have to promise not to say anything,” she demanded in a hushed voice. Sandwiched between an older sister who excelled at everything and Daisy who was fussed over, Deb was quite capable of making a big joke out of Daisy’s faux pas to get attention.
“All right, all right. Just show me, for Pete’s sake.” Her green eyes, so much like Daisy’s own, were avid.
Already wishing she hadn’t given in, Daisy drew the book from its wrapper. Deb’s eyes widened just as Dana’s had. “Dacinda Marie Charles, what are you doing reading about sex?”
Daisy rolled her eyes. “I’m not coming out as gay, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
Deb snickered. “Are you kidding? I’m the one who caught you making out with Brent Paxton in the den, remember?” She opened the book to peruse the table of contents.
“I remember.” Daisy crossed her arms to quell the urge to grab the book back before Deb saw which page Daisy had dog-eared. “You embarrassed the hell out of me by turning the lights on and asking him what he was doing with your little sister.”
“Well, he was older than you. Besides, I was jealous that he was in my class but preferred my little sister to me.”
She handed the book back to Daisy, waggling her eyebrows. “Enjoy. And I love, love, love that Dana unwrapped it right in front of everybody. Can you imagine if the girls had seen it? Or Mom and Dad?” She snickered.
“All too well. So do not say anything.”
“I won’t, don’t worry.”
Daisy shook her head. She’d just have to hope for the best. Besides, even if Deb did tattle, she was a grown-up, and she could read what she wanted. To be safe, however, she tucked the book into her car before she went back to the party.
After a Northwest barbecue supper of grilled steaks and salmon filet, potatoes, salads, fresh berries and birthday cake, Dana paused at Daisy’s side in the kitchen. Deb and their mother were outside, clearing the last of the dishes from the table.
“Anything you want to talk about?” Dana asked casually.
Daisy stared at the plate she was rinsing for the dishwasher. Dana wouldn’t laugh at her. “Sorry about the switch. I’ve got a fiction bestseller for you at my place. I just thought this book might help me think about some things. I’m not sure about sex since…you know.”
“I get it.” Dana nodded. “I’ve often wondered how it feels, to know you look like most guys’ dream girl, contrasted with everything you went through. It’s kind of a weird juxtaposition.”
Daisy nodded gratefully. “It totally is. Sometimes I feel like…I’m not real, you know? And I want sex, but I seem to be having trouble jumping back in there.”
Dana sighed. “Well, unfortunately, body changes are part of being a woman. And you’re real, all right. Everything that matters is still Daisy. Your head and your heart.”
She gave Daisy a one-armed hug. “You’ll be okay, kid. You’re a gorgeous, smart woman. You’ll figure this out.”
Daisy leaned her cheek against her oldest sister’s, touched by the solid confidence in her voice and her words. “Thanks.”
If only she were so sure.
That night, Daisy finished reading the chapter on BDSM. Her head was whirling with new information as she got ready for bed. Clad in her favorite cotton tank and boxers, she checked the locks, turned out the lights and slipped into her queen-size bed.
She stared at the shifting pattern of the street lights on the wall as her curtains moved in the draft from the air-conditioning. How many of the things she’d read about did Dack enjoy? Did women let him tie them up and use whips on them and insert devices in their orifices? God, she hoped not. That stuff was just too weird. As was anything involving bodily fluids, other than orgasmic, of course.
But she could definitely picture him watching her with that knowing twinkle in his eyes while he held her with those big hands. While he put his cock in her and took her, pushing in hard and then sliding in and out, in and out… With a groan, she rolled onto her back. She ran her hands over her full breasts, playing gently with her nipples. Thank God they still had sensation.
She stroked down farther, over the concavity of her belly, spearing her fingertips into the fluff of hair on her mons. She was wet with arousal from her reading. She stroked her fingers into her wetness and then circled her swollen clitoris swiftly. Her pussy contracted in swift pleasure, but as soon as she relaxed, she groaned with frustration. Her orgasm had been a relief, but it wasn’t enough. It was as if some great, glittering pleasure hung just out of reach, tantalizingly close…and with Dack’s name written all over it.
But how did she grasp hold?
Chapter Four
Daisy called Carlie on her way to the gym after work on Monday. She made the call sitting at a red light, stuck her earpiece in and listened to Carlie’s phone ring.
It had been a long day emotionally—definitely a Monday. She was as frazzled and frustrated as the proverbial cat on a hot tin roof. Sam of the failed date had shown up for meetings with Daisy’s Realtor boss. He’d said hello and smiled each time they saw each other, but she’d been uncomfortable with him in the office most of the afternoon. He was a big, handsome reminder that she was seriously bent not to want him.
“Hey, you,” said Carlie in her ear.
“Hi. You know the club that the guys own? I want to go,” Daisy blurted. She had a feeling Sara would lecture her about personal safety or something, but Carlie was the one who’d brought up the idea, and even though she’d been joking, Daisy had seen the way her friend looked at the taciturn Jake.
“Oh.” Carlie was silent as Daisy accelerated carefully through the intersection. “Um, I think you have to have an invitation.”
“And how do you know that?” Daisy checked her mirrors as she spoke. She knew talking on the phone could be distracting even hands-free, so she was extra vigilant.
“We-ell… I may have looked into it a little bit.”
“Tell me,” Daisy demanded, her hands tightening on the steering wheel.
“They have a website,” Carlie told her.
“Really?” Daisy listened eagerly as she followed traffic along the winding boulevard. Carlie was an account manager for EbiTeck, a compu
ter software firm, and she worked with some serious computer geeks.
“Yes, really. I had to buy lunch for two of our guys to get them to find this information,” Carlie added. “So I hope you appreciate it. They were giggling like girls over my interest in it, but they said they’d keep quiet if I fed them.”
“I do appreciate it. Now gimme.”
“The URL’s too complicated to tell you over the phone. I’ll e-mail it to you. And then you erase my e-mail, got it?”
Daisy smirked. “Yeah, in case Big Brother is watching, got it.”
“I’m serious,” Carlie said sternly. “They may have one of those programs set up to ping them every time someone searches the club name. Some of the new programs are so powerful they can follow it backward, kind of like caller ID.”
“What is the name of the place?” Daisy asked curiously. She hoped it wasn’t something gross like Whips ‘n’ Leather or something, because if that was their attitude, it wasn’t for her.
Carlie giggled. “Club 3. That’s what they call it.”
“Huh.” Well, that was short and to the point. Three owners of the club, so they named it that. “At least they didn’t call it 3 Dicks, or 2 Dicks & a Dack, or something.”
She grinned at her own awful joke.
Carlie’s giggle turned into a belly laugh. “You are terrible. I hate that word—dick. That’s what guys call their thing.”
“Well, what do you call it?” Daisy asked. “Their penis?”
“That’s what it is,” Carlie mused. “But that does sound kind of clinical. I like the word cock myself.”
“Ooh, yeah,” Daisy teased. “That sounds big and firm and commanding.”
Carlie cracked up again. “It must, it seems to be what my favorite romance writers use.”
Huh. That was true. Daisy’s favorite authors used it too. “Thanks for the info, sweetie. Which I didn’t get from you.”
“If you’re still interested after you look at their website, then you’ll have to get an invitation,” Carlie reminded her. “Although the way Dack was looking at you, that’s not gonna be a problem. I think he wanted you for his lunch on Saturday.”
Even though her friend couldn’t see her, Daisy felt her cheeks heat. She made a noncommittal noise. “Thanks, girlfriend. I owe you.”
“Yes, you do.”
Daisy promised to let Carlie know what happened next and clicked off her earpiece.
What would she find on the Club 3 website? Was it graphic and gross, like some of the stuff she’d read in her book? She had a hard time believing that. The three men just didn’t seem like they’d be into the really hard-core BDSM.
But what did she know? Sometimes murderers didn’t look like they’d do the heinous crimes they were jailed for either. But Dack especially seemed so good-natured, happy with himself. A guy with a twinkle in his eye like that just couldn’t be into seriously hurting people—women.
He was sex on a stick, but he wasn’t scary. She refused to believe their club was either.
Brittany was on duty at the Big Iron Fitness front desk. A short blonde whose shoulder-length hair was streaked with hot pink that matched the tips of her nails, she smiled sunnily as Daisy handed over her membership card to be scanned. Daisy smiled back.
“Hey, how’s it going?” she asked.
“Good. Not very busy this evening, so I’m catching up on some membership stuff.” The receptionist indicated a pile of papers by the computer. “How about you? Have a good weekend?”
“It was okay.” Daisy shrugged, hoping the gesture hid the fact that her heart was racing under her thin black bra top. “Kinda boring, you know?”
“Oh, too bad.” Brittany made a sympathetic face.
Daisy glanced around, but no other gym members were lined up behind her, and none of the Big Three, as she’d taken to calling Dack, Jake and Trace, were anywhere in sight. “So, I hear there’s a fun club near here,” she said casually. “You know anything about it?”
Brittany blinked and then looked down, shuffling papers. “Can’t help you, sorry. I’m not really into the club scene, you know?”
“Oh, no problem,” Daisy said. “Just thought I’d ask.” She turned away.
“Have a great workout,” Brittany chirped.
Daisy walked through the club to the locker room. Brittany knew something. Her body language had mirrored classic avoidance, with her refusal to make eye contact and touching the nearest object. The gym employees must have been told not to talk.
Damn it. Looked like she was going to have to pull up her big-girl panties and ask the big guy himself for information. Maybe after a nice hard workout, she’d actually have the courage.
Of course, she could just ask him out on a date. See if he was interested in getting to know her. That would be safe, and then maybe they could segue into the sexual stuff. After spending time with him, she’d know if she was going to freak when he touched her breasts.
Much better idea. She wasn’t really in the habit of asking guys out, but she could do it, for him.
But, on the one night she was actually looking for Dack, although the gym filled up with lots of people like her, stopping by after work, none of the three owners were around. Instead an older man with a silver ponytail and the physique of a serious bicyclist seemed to be managing the place. He strolled around the club, stopping to speak to members and giving pointers to some of the lifters.
Daisy was nearly through her workout before Dack strode into the gym. Her heart sped up even more. From her vantage point on one of the treadmills on the balcony overlooking the main gym floor, she watched him stop at the front desk. He wore a baseball cap, T-shirt and jeans. Every part of him was liberally covered in some kind of pale dust. Didn’t hurt his looks, though. He could strip that tight, faded T-shirt off and pose for a Working Man calendar.
He talked with Brittany for a few moments, scanning the gym and nodding. Then he looked up, his sunglasses-shuttered gaze locking on Daisy with a click so solid she felt it in her chest. He didn’t smile or wave, but somehow, she knew he was staring straight at her. Finally he tipped his head down, the bill of his dusty cap hiding his upper face, and walked back through the gym, passing under the balcony and out of sight.
Daisy looked around. Really, he could have been looking at anyone up here. There were women on treadmills on either side of her, most of them young and attractive. Two of them were women Carlie had dubbed “fitness Barbies”, lean and fit with perfect tans, hair and makeup. She sighed to herself. Dack may have flirted with her, but who the hell knew what his type was?
Well, whatever. It was nearly seven o’clock, and she was starving. She had to shower, get home and eat. Luckily, her mother had sent leftover scalloped potatoes and barbecued salmon home with her, so she wouldn’t have to cook.
She showered, slipped back into the black capris, sandals and sleeveless white-and-black polka-dot blouse she’d worn to work. She loved the blouse because it was like a dressy tank with a cute tie around the waist. She fixed her eye makeup, put on some fresh lip gloss and took a deep breath. Now or never.
Of course Dack was nowhere to be seen. Daisy wanted to kick the reception desk on her way out. Instead, she stalked out of the gym into the hot, hushed evening.
“Daisy!” Just as she reached her car, his deep voice called her name. The trunk lid opened, and she dropped her gym bag in and turned.
Dack jogged across the parking lot toward her. He’d showered. His wet hair was pulled back severely from his face, and he wore a low-cut white tank and gray shorts, soft workout shoes on his feet. The heavy muscles of his legs worked like pistons, his stride smooth and easy.
He stopped, looking down at her. Mmm, there was that smell of clean, warm male. He should not be allowed within ten feet of any female after a shower, for her safety.
“Hi.” His voice was low, intimate. “Almost missed you.”
“Here I am,” she said, spreading her arms.
“Yeah.” His slow s
mile was appreciative. “Here you are.”
And here he was, all six feet plus of male-liscious real estate. His tight tank top was somehow naughtier than any garment she’d ever seen on a guy. It bared the broad, hair-dusted cushions of his pectoral muscles, and one of his small brown nipples peeked at her, the other hidden by thin white knit. And his biceps? Works of freakin’ art. She wanted to pet them and then just have him curl some weights while she touched him, felt the flex and bulge of those powerful muscles. The tank hid his six-pack, which was a crying shame. And the baggy shorts obscured his groin, but she bet the fabric would feel soft and slick if she cupped him with her hand.
Oh God, she was getting hot just looking at him. In a parking lot.
He shifted nearer, and she swore heat arced between them. She locked her knees to keep from swaying forward to lean against him. Or melting in a puddle at his feet. The currents tugging at her were so powerful she was vaguely surprised they weren’t visible.
“I heard you asked about Club 3,” he said, his voice a low, sexy rumble.
“Huh? Oh, well…not really,” Daisy mumbled, her gaze skittering up to his and then away. Oh, why had she said that? She did want to ask about the club. She desperately wanted to know everything about it.
“Where’d you hear about it?” he asked. His tone held only friendly curiosity.
She shrugged. “Oh, just some girls in the locker room.”
He nodded. Lifting one hand to the edge of her open trunk, he enclosed her loosely in the vee of his body and the car. She wanted to kiss the smooth skin on the underside of his arm. Even the dark hair curling in his armpit was sexy.
“It’s a little more than just a dance club,” he drawled.
She blushed. “Um…I kind of got that.”
He nodded. With the evening sun shining through his sunglasses, she could see his eyes. They were gorgeous, a light color with thick, dark lashes, narrowed with sensual intent. All for her. Was it possible to combust from a guy looking at her? If the heat curling inside her burned any hotter, she was going to find out.