Falling For Daniel

by Tracy Lorraine

  “So if this isn’t the norm, why am I here?”

  “That is a very good question. And I really do wish I had the answer but I don’t. I just…like having you here,” he says the last bit much quieter, like he’s embarrassed to admit it. I love seeing his slightly more vulnerable side. Since meeting him I’ve only really seen the alpha male, the womaniser in him. I think I unknowingly knew there was more, that’s why I’m here. That’s why I agreed to go with him last night.

  “So what number notch am I in your headboard then, D?” I ask, my mouth running at a much faster pace to my brain.

  When I glance over at him I see him pale slightly. Not the reaction I was expecting.

  “Enough to fill my time with before I found you.”

  “Ugh, cheesy line, D.”

  “What? That wasn’t a line,” he argues.

  “Whatever. So go on then…how many?”

  I watch the muscles in his neck ripple as he swallows and thinks of his answer. His mouth opens like he’s about to say something but he changes his mind and snaps it shut. I raise my eyebrow at him urging him to continue. After a few more seconds he answers.

  “A couple a week.” He immediately lifts his mug to his lips and takes a sip.

  “And how long exactly have you had this specific headboard?” I really don’t know why I’m asking, I don’t think I actually want to know but my mouth won’t stop.

  “About…three years, ish.”

  I quickly do the maths in my head before jumping off the bed. In the process I throw coffee all over the duvet cover that I’m still using to shield my body.

  “THREE HUNDRED!” I squeal in shock.

  “I said ish.”

  I feel slightly sorry for him. He looks a little mortified, though to be fair I feel more disgusted in myself. I’ve been getting all these weird vibes from him thinking maybe I’m special. Fuck knows why I care about that though because I do not need another man.

  * * *

  Daniel

  * * *

  I’ve never really thought about the number of woman I’ve been with like that. Hearing it out loud makes me realise quite how bad it is. I was being conservative when I told her it was a couple a week. Most weeks it’s more than that, and it’s not just been for three years. It’s been…well…since I was old enough. I’m always getting grief off my brother, Steven, and from Molly. They think I’m too old to be doing what I’m doing. I’ve always ignored them and pushed their comments to the back of my mind.

  I glance at her. She’s stood at the edge of the bed holding the duvet around herself and looking between me and the bed.

  “Come back to bed,” I say, in my sexiest bedroom voice. But she stays put. “Fine, okay let’s shower instead then. I’ve got a surprise for you afterwards.”

  “Okay,” she says sceptically. She’s had a really weird look on her face since I came back to the room. I have no clue what she’s thinking. “I can shower by myself though.”

  “Be my guest,” I say pointing in the direction of the en suite. I’m disappointed, but I’m hoping to get a lot more time with her yet so no biggie.

  I finish my coffee while I listen to the water running. Thoughts of her sexy curves with water pouring all over them has me reliving last night. Needless to say that by the time she emerges from the en suite my cock is well and truly ready for her again. Looking up to find her wrapped in my huge, white towel with damp skin doesn’t help.

  “Stop staring at me like that,” she says, embarrassed.

  “What, you look hot.”

  “Whatever. Where are my clothes then I’ll get out of the way. I’d appreciate it if you could call me a cab, please.”

  “You’re not going anywhere,” I say as I get up from the bed and pull her towards me, making her squeal in surprise. “I’ve not had enough of you yet.” I realised this while watching her sleep last night. After I’d practically fucked her into a coma she fell fast asleep. I’ve never let a woman stay over before. Never. But having her there next to me felt so right. I watched her for hours. It didn’t take me long to realise that the few hours I’d had with her wasn’t anywhere near enough to get her out of my system. I decided that having her to myself for the weekend should cover it. I fully intended on keeping her here. But then I went downstairs this morning to make coffee and found her handbag on the floor next to the sofa. I leant down to pick it up and found her passport poking out of the top and it gave me an idea. An amazing idea.

  I continue watching her as she slides her underwear on and then holds up her dress in her hands, looking at the ripped fabric. I’m waiting for her to say something but she doesn’t. Instead she turns away from me and marches up to my wardrobe. She looks inside before pulling out one of my shirts, slipping it on.

  When she turns back to me, the sight makes my breath catch slightly. The shirt is massive on her; it almost comes down to her knees. She stands and rolls the arms up after doing up the buttons. Her face, although still with some of last night’s make up on, looks fresh and her hair is wet but curling up around her shoulders. The need to bend her over the chest of drawers behind her is high but I know we haven’t got much time and I need to make sure she’s on board with my plan.

  Once she’s sorted she just stands and looks at me, waiting for me to explain.

  “We’re going away for the weekend. Last night wasn’t enough for me,” I state.

  “Oh, we are, are we?” she says, putting her hands on her hips and trying to look stern.

  “Yep, it’s all booked. Once I’m dressed we can go.” I get up and head for the wardrobe.

  “I can’t go like this,” she says in a panic. “I’m barely dressed.”

  “I think you look perfect.”

  “What? Wait…” she says shaking her head and looking completely baffled. “You’re taking me away for the weekend? You don’t even know me, you don’t know my name.” Now that’s not true because I looked inside her passport but I don’t tell her that. “And I don’t know you. You could be a murderer or something. Plus, I might be busy this weekend.”

  “I’m not a murderer,” I state, pulling on a pair of dark jeans. “And are you busy this weekend?”

  “Well, no. But that’s not the point,” she says in a rush.

  “What is the point then?”

  “That I barely know you. I’ve already spent the night in your bed. You should be kicking me out now, not taking me away for the weekend.”

  I love the confused look on her face. It’s really endearing. I pull my jumper over my head and step up to her. I hold her chin in my fingers and tilt her head up to look at me.

  “Last night wasn’t enough for me, Red. I need more,” I repeat. I stare her right in the eyes so she can see how serious I’m being about this.

  “O…okay,” she stutters, before I place my lips down on hers—a small reminder of how good last night was, and a promise of what’s to come.

  Once I’ve packed a few things, I grab her hand and pull her towards the garage. I press the button to raise the door and I hear her chuckle to herself.

  I turn to look at her and wait for her to explain.

  “I shouldn’t have expected anything different really should I?” she asks as she looks between my Porsche Cayenne and my baby, my Mercedes SL Roadster.

  I pop the boot on the Merc and throw my bag in before opening the passenger door for her, much to her shock.

  “Why thank you, kind Sir,” she says in a posh English accent.

  “My pleasure, Ma’am.”

  Once we’re on the road I ask one of the many questions I have about this intriguing woman.

  “So are you a yank with a scouse accent or are you a scouse with a yank accent?” Since the second I heard her voice in Molly’s kitchen I have been fascinated with her accent. It’s so unbelievably sexy and I don’t know each time she speaks if I’m going to get the American twang or the British. It’s really captivating.

  “I’m British. We moved to Chicago when
I was sixteen, only came back recently.” With that one sentence I feel her shut herself off from me, making me curious to know why she’s here. I resist asking, I’ll find out eventually.

  “I’ll wait here, you grab your stuff,” I say when we pull up outside my sister’s house. She insisted that we stop and get her case. I was more than happy to go with her wearing my shirt, she looks sexy as hell in it, but she wasn’t having any of it.

  It’s only seconds after I’ve watched her enter the house that Molly is heading towards me. I should have guessed she wouldn’t let this go.

  “Beth says you’re taking her away. What the fuck are you doing, Daniel? She’s not just some piece of arse you can pick up and drop. She’s one of Ryan’s oldest friends. I swear to God if you mess this up, if you hurt her in any way then I won’t think twice about setting Ryan on you. Brother or not, I won’t have it. Understand?”

  “Jesus, Molls, enough,” I say, putting an end to her rant. “I just want to spend some more time with her.” This is clearly the wrong thing to say because the look on Molly’s face tells me that she doesn’t really believe me. I guess I can’t blame her. I’ve never made a secret about my lifestyle. “Is that so hard to believe?”

  “Yeah, it is a little. Why her, Daniel? Out of all of them, what is it about her?” she asks, looking curious about what has caught my attention.

  “Honestly, I have no idea. She’s just…different, I guess.”

  “Oh my God,” Molly says softly and she looks down at me.

  “No, no, no, don’t be going and getting any crazy ideas. I just need a little more time with her that’s all.”

  “Uh huh, I’m sure that’s what they all say,” she says in amusement. “So where are you taking her?”

  Thankfully as soon as I’ve answered, Beth emerges from the house, which puts a halt to Molly’s questioning. Unfortunately, Beth got changed while she was inside and is now wearing jeans, boots and a thick jumper. Yeah, she still looks good but it’s not quite the same. She’s removed what remained of last night’s make up and I am thrilled that she didn’t feel the need to put any more on. She looks even more beautiful without it.

  “Have fun you two,” Molly says with a smirk, just before I put the window up.

  “Could she look any more smug?” Beth says with a laugh as we pull away. “So where exactly are you taking me, mystery man?” I’m really glad that the dark clouds that descended over her when I asked her where she was from have lifted and she’s back to being her bubbly self again.

  “Surprise. Just sit back, relax, and enjoy the ride.”

  “You make that sound dirtier than it should,” she mutters.

  “Oh, I can make a lot of things dirty, Red, believe me.” I don’t miss her thighs squeezing together and her shifting on the seat when I say that.

  Chapter Four

  Beth

  * * *

  At some point I manage to nod off. Not surprising really seeing as I’d only had a couple of hours sleep last night.

  I wake up completely disorientated and in a panic. I was dreaming about him, about who he really was and all the lies he’d told me. It takes me a good few seconds to register why I’m in a car and who with. My panic doesn’t dissipate quickly as I begin to think about what the fuck I’m doing. I have no idea who this guy is, other than being Molly’s brother. This does give me some confidence that he isn’t planning to kill me in my sleep. But other than that, Mr. Dark and Delicious is an utter mystery. I don’t know why I agreed to this. I mean it’s crazy, right?

  I’ve only just run away from a huge part of my life and now I’m doing what? Running again? I ran here in the hope that I could forget him. Obviously that didn’t happen because no matter where I am in the world he’s going to be inside my head. Then I meet Mr. D over there and I jump at the first chance to make me forget, to take me away from it all. I don’t even know the guys name, yet I’m fully aware that he’s going to hurt my already broken heart.

  “Hey, sleepyhead. Are you okay?” There’s concern written all over his face.

  “Yeah…why?” I ask sceptically.

  “You were talking in your sleep.”

  Shit. I have absolutely no intention of telling this guy the reason I left America.

  “Wh…what did I say?”

  He pauses for a beat before answering, which makes my pulse pick up. Please don’t let me have said anything about him. “It was nothing that made any sense,” he says, but I’m not convinced it’s the truth.

  “Why are we at an airport?” I ask in shock when I look up.

  “I’m taking you away for the weekend, remember?”

  “Yeah, but I was thinking that we were going to a seaside resort or something.”

  He glances at me before saying, “Do I look like someone who goes to Blackpool often?”

  I can’t help myself and I burst out laughing because he does have a point. He seems to have more money than most people can dream of, of course he wouldn’t go somewhere like that.

  “So, where are we going?”

  “It’s a surprise. I saw your passport sticking out of your bag this morning and I called in a couple of favours.”

  I sit there in silence as I let what he said settle into my brain. Why is he using up his favours on me?

  A thought suddenly hits me. “You know my name, don’t you?”

  “Yes,” he admits. “I needed your details to book the tickets.”

  “Are you going to return the favour?”

  “No.”

  “Have a wonderful time in Paris,” the lady checking us in says. “The weather is meant to be beautiful so I hear.”

  I wait until we aren’t in hearing distance before I freak out. “Paris! You’re taking me to Paris?”

  “Yes. That’s okay, right?”

  “What! Of course it’s okay. I’ve always wanted to go to Paris: see the Eiffel Tower, The Louvre, the Champs-Elysees and the Arc de Triomphe. Oh my God.” I think I might be hyperventilating a little. This guy, who has been nothing but incredible since the moment my eyes landed on him, is taking me to Paris. I’m not sure exactly what I did to deserve this but I am seriously glad I did it.

  He stands still, smiling to himself as he watches me freak out.

  “So you’re happy?” he eventually asks.

  “Oh…uh, yes! You know, I mean, yeah it’s okay,” I say trying to play it cool.

  “Good, come on then.”

  He grabs my hand and gently tugs so I have no choice but to follow him.

  “We can’t go in there,” I say in a slight panic. “It’s for first class passengers.”

  “I’m sure we can sneak in,” he says, with a cheeky wink that melts my insides.

  “Good afternoon,” the posh looking guy at the entrance to the lounge says when we walk in.

  “Good afternoon,” Mr. D says as he hands our tickets over casually.

  I’m ready to turn around and walk out. What I’m not expecting is for the guy to wish us a pleasant stay and onward journey and to wave us towards the fancy looking doors to whatever may be behind. Growing up we never went without; Dad had a good job, we always had money but this kind of luxury is definitely not something I’m used to.

  Once we both have drinks and fancy little pastry things to eat, we take a seat on a huge sofa by the windows.

  “See it’s easy, it’s all about confidence and looking like you belong.” As he says this I see the corner of his lip twitch up in a smile.

  “We’ve got first class tickets, haven’t we?”

  He doesn’t answer; instead he takes the coffee from my hands and places it on the table in front of us before sucking my bottom lip into his mouth. His hand comes up to hold on to my neck as he leans in properly. I lose myself in his kiss. Everything I should be worrying about right now evaporates like it doesn’t exist. The only thing I’m aware of is him, his lips and how he makes me feel.

  It feels like I’m dreaming. I mean seriously, this isn’t my life.
Flying first class to Paris with a hot guy for a weekend of hopefully even hotter sex, doesn’t happen to people like me. I didn’t really think it happened in real life. I thought things like this were reserved for romance novels and films.

  The flight goes by in the blink of an eye. I’m used to flying back and forth to Chicago so the couple of hours we’re in the air feels like nothing. Especially, when it’s filled with champagne and fancy nibbles. I’ve never been up this end of a plane before and I have to say that it’s going to be hard the next time I have to fly economy.

  “We’re staying here?” I ask in complete awe of the building I’m about to be dragged into. “Wow, I thought the outside was impressive.” I’m completely lost in my own world as I look around the ultra modern interior of the hotel. I’ve never seen anything like it. There are funky glass light fittings hanging from the high ceilings, all the furniture is ultra modern and sleek and everything is either black, grey or red.

  I’m so away with the fairies that I don’t see a very well dressed gentleman heading our way until he speaks. It’s not the voice I was expecting.

  “Daniel, how are you doing, mate? It’s been too long.”

  I don’t pay much attention to what he says; my brain is too busy focusing on the name he just said.

  Daniel.

  It suits him, and now it makes sense as to why he questioned me about calling him D.

  “Edward,” Daniel greets. “It’s so good to see you. Business looks like it’s doing well.”

  They chat back and forth for a few minutes. They each ask about the others families telling me they know each other well. I look Edward up and down and decide he must be about the same age. He’s nowhere near as captivating to look at as Daniel though. Not as refined.

  “So, Daniel, tell me. Who’s the lucky lady you’ve brought on a trip to the city of romance?”

  “Edward, this is Beth.”