by Anna Argent
As much as she could get.
Maybe that made her reckless and set her up for a pile of hurt later, but right now her body was humming, her skin was aching for his hands and mouth, and her pussy quivered with need. She could no more tell him to stop than she could ask the sun to stop shining. She needed him.
Daisy wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him deeper. Her tongue mated with his, and his taste filled her head. Strong, iron-hard arms tightened around her and lifted her from her feet. The sense of motion swung around her, and when he finally set her down, they were in the living room lying on his airbed where it had been tucked out of the way.
The fire in the stove had long since gone out, but the smell of wood smoke and new drywall filled the space. Above that was the scent of his skin, clean from the shower and spiced with a hint of musk. She’d know that smell anywhere, even if a thousand men were in the same room and she was blindfolded. It would always turn her on and fill her with longing.
Mark kissed his way down her neck and along one arm. His movements were a controlled fever, slow and hot and designed to make her burn.
The ache between her thighs made her frantic, and she tried to hurry him, but nothing she did worked. He was going at his own pace, kissing inch after inch of flesh as he exposed it.
His mouth feathered across her abdomen where he’d pulled her tank top out of her shorts. Each contact against her skin was electrified, jolting her off of the mattress and forcing a gasp from her lips.
Little hot, wet flicks of his tongue ignited her until she was squirming beneath him. She sat up enough to strip off her tank and bra, then raised his head up so that he had no choice but to look at her breasts.
That did the trick.
The man’s eyes went dark with arousal, and his demeanor changed from slow and steady, to hot and ready.
His mouth closed over her nipple, and the whole world spun a little faster. Dizziness assaulted her, and she had to grab his head to anchor herself to something.
Mark feasted, licking, sucking and nibbling the sensitive tip until she was incapable of doing anything but making soft noises of appreciation.
He lifted her hips, and it wasn’t until then that she realized that he’d undone her shorts and was easing them from her body.
He towered over her, staring at her with a dark look of approval shining in his eyes. “Spread your legs. Let me see that pretty pussy.”
Daisy didn’t even consider resisting. She did as he asked, and delighted in the way his skin flushed with arousal as he stared at her sex.
Slowly, like a predator stalking its prey, he knelt between her legs. The air mattress swayed and bounced with his added weight as he settled.
He used his fingers to open her, then dipped his head and slid the tip of his tongue across her clit.
A lightning strike of pleasure jolted through her. Before she’d even settled from the intense sensation, his mouth closed over her and he began to suckle, drawing the little bundle of nerves out for more.
Daisy arched beneath him and fisted her hands in his thick hair. She had no idea what he was doing with his tongue, teeth and lips, but whatever it was, she was already closing in on an orgasm.
She hovered at the edge, so close she could feel the gravitational pull of release beckoning her. Then he stopped.
Mark lifted his head and gave her a dark smile. His lips were wet and shiny, and satisfaction danced in his blue eyes. “You’re even sweeter than I imagined.”
She didn’t know what to say to a compliment like that, but it hardly mattered. Words were beyond her. All she could do was struggle to find her breath and hope he wasn’t done.
Mark stripped out of his clothes. His body was lean and beautiful, with heavy muscle and deep ridges playing out in a canvas of light and shadow. His cock stood out from his groin, thick, dark and lined with throbbing veins. The tip was shiny with the proof of his desire, and when he gripped the shaft in his fist, all Daisy wanted to do was taste him.
She rose up to do just that, but he stopped her with one hand splayed around her neck. “If you suck me, I’ll come before I get to hear you scream my name. That’s not going to happen.”
He lowered himself over her, shoving her thighs apart to make room for him as he went. Muscles bulged in his arms and chest as he came closer. The hard heat of his body was shocking and wonderful. It played havoc with her head, fooling her into thinking that he was hers.
For now he was, and that was enough. It had to be.
“Tell me how you like it,” he whispered against her skin between nuzzling kisses along her neck. “Tell me how you want me to love you.”
His words nearly broke her heart, but she stayed strong, clinging to the moment and the way her body writhed beneath his delicious weight.
“However you want,” she told him. “I just want you.”
He angled his body just right. She was wet and slick, and his cock filled her up like it was meant just for that and that alone.
A long, slow breath eased from her lungs.
This was what she wanted. He was what she needed.
“Slow?” he asked, as his hips moved in a sinuous circle that made her whimper.
He hummed his approval as he threw back his head. The cords in his neck stood out, and the stain of lust spread down his chest. “Yes. Slow is good. Deep and slow.”
Every move he made worked for her. Each stroke glided across her clit, slickening it for the next thrust of his powerful hips. After several minutes of the rhythmic, consuming penetration, she felt a shift low in her abdomen and a sweet pleasure build.
“That’s it, honey,” he said in a low, confident voice. “Just like that.”
He covered her mouth with his and kissed her like he’d starve without the taste of her lips. His hips sped their pace, reading silent cues from her like they were written in giant letters on a billboard. Everything he did was exactly what she needed to heighten her pleasure. Every move perfect, like he’d trained his entire life for this moment.
“Open your eyes, Daisy.”
She didn’t realize they were closed until he given her the command. She did as he asked, and was rewarded with the sight of the most handsome, sexiest man ever born. His skin was flushed, his eyes were bright with excitement and something else she could almost pretend was love.
“I want you to look at me while you come,” he told her.
She would have given him anything in that moment. She already had given him the most vital part of herself—her heart. Filling this small request was no problem at all.
Mark shifted his body, using one arm to lift her hips. The change in angle gave him access to a whole new set of nerve endings, which he proceeded to claim as his own little puppets. They danced for him as he commanded, and within seconds, Daisy’s world was shattered inside the confines of the sharpest, purest, strongest climax of her life.
It spread out from her core, so hot and bright it stole her breath. Strands of pleasure wove their way through her, tying her to the man who’d caused them. Her eyes stayed open as he’d asked, and before she’d let out her first cry, she saw his face tighten and his gaze fix on hers.
The first warm jet of semen shoved her higher on the waves of orgasm. The second knocked her over and held her down while he filled her to overflowing.
The sound of her voice lifted on a scream filled her ears. It was his name she called in the middle of the storm—his name that wrapped around her and claimed her heart as its own.
Daisy couldn’t tell how long the climax lasted, but when it was over, and all that was left were the last flickering pulses lingering along the walls of her pussy, she was breathless and spent.
Mark’s arms were wrapped around her, holding her so tight she could barely pull in a full breath. His heart hammered against her breast, and his breath feathered through her hair.
He lifted up just enough to look into her eyes, and what she saw there was no different than it had been before. She felt ch
anged. Irrevocably altered. But he was still the same.
It was just sex. It didn’t mean anything.
At least not to him.
That’s the way men were. She knew that. She accepted that.
But it still hurt like hell.
Daisy slid out from under him, grabbed her clothes and rushed to the bathroom. She cleaned up and dressed as quickly as her shaking hands would allow. When she came back downstairs, he was also dressed.
He stood there, watching her with a wary expression, like he expected her to lash out at him.
Nothing could be further from the truth.
His eyes searched her face for something. His mouth twitched like he wanted to speak, but couldn’t.
If she stayed here like this with him, delaying the inevitable, it would only make walking away harder. And it was already hard enough.
Daisy went to the front door, squared her shoulders, pulled in a deep breath, and said what had to be said. “I have to leave now.”
“You said you had a few more days of vacation. Why don’t you stay? Relax for a couple of days, rather than work so hard.”
Her heart ached for what she could never have, but she was strong. Heartbreak wasn’t going to keep her down for long. “There’s no point to me staying, Mark. You still love Janey. And I love myself enough to know that I don’t want to compete with a ghost. I deserve a man who loves me. Only me. I don’t want to be any man’s consolation prize. Not even yours.”
His hands slid down her arms and pulled her closer. “That’s not how I feel about you.”
“Then how do you feel? Do you love me?”
He dropped his hands and backed away with a hint of terror widening his eyes. “I’ll never love again, Daisy. I can’t. I won’t. Too many bad things can happen, and I can’t go through that again.”
“So because something good might end, you’re not willing to even let it start? That’s insane.”
“You don’t know what it’s like to lose someone. If you did, you wouldn’t say that.”
“You’re never going to change your mind, are you? You’re always going to be afraid.”
He didn’t deny it. And that was why she had to go. For real. Leave Mark behind and never look back.
She’s been falling in love with him forever, and hadn’t thought she could fall any harder or farther than she already had. But coming here had changed that. Being with him, kissing him, making love with him—all of it changed how she felt. He was a part of her now in ways he never would have been if she’d stayed home like everyone said she should.
At least she could leave knowing that his life was a better place because she’d come. His home was safer, his spirits were higher, and he looked healthier than he had before. She’d been a good friend to him, but that was all they’d ever be. It was time for her to accept that and move on. From here. With her life.
Her bag was already in her van. All that was left was one more thing. Three little words.
She kissed his cheek and turned before he could see her tears.
“Good bye, Mark.”
Chapter Thirteen
Mark walked into the church, instantly regretting his decision to come to Ellen’s wedding.
It had been twenty-seven days since Daisy had walked out of his life, and every one of them had sucked without her. All he could think about was seeing her again, and when she wouldn’t return his calls, he knew he had no other choice but to go home.
Besides, all she’d wanted was for him to go to Ellen’s wedding, and after everything Daisy had done for him, it seemed a small price to man up and do the right thing by his family.
The church smelled like perfume and pine cleaner. Pale pink and white flowers decorated the sanctuary. People milled about, wearing their Sunday finest. Voices were raised in excitement and laughter as the town gathered to celebrate the newest union in Whisper Lake.
Several members of the Coffee Council mingled together, talking about how things were different in their day. Every one of them would probably have rather been on the lake, fishing, but not a single one of them was going to miss the big event. Showing up was the only way they could complain about it later, and there was nothing those old men liked to do more than complain.
Mrs. Owens, Mark’s third grade teacher, was perched at the organ, playing soft music while she swayed back and forth, mouthing the words to old hymns. Her pale blue hat was covered with feathers and flowers, blending perfectly with the tight blue-gray curls on her head.
Mr. Slaider, Mark’s baseball coach, sat next to an empty spot reserved for his wife. The round, perky lady was roaming about, being a social butterfly while her husband snuck sips of whiskey from his pocket flask.
There were fewer kids here than the last time Mark had noticed, and even fewer babies. It was his generation’s turn to start families and raise their kids to love this small town as much as he did. He’d always planned that path for himself, but now that Janey was gone, he felt lost, like a man with no future.
Ellen would have to fill those shoes for the both of them. And even though Mark wasn’t overly fond of his future brother-in-law, Harrison, he seemed to make his sister happy, and that was enough. He’d come to know Harrison more as the years passed, and watch as his sister’s children grew. Maybe that would be enough, too.
Mark slipped upstairs to the back of the empty balcony. The stairs had been cordoned off with a velvet rope, encouraging wedding guests to fill the pews downstairs first. He’d ignored the barrier, hoping no one would notice him up here in the shadows. His parents and sister were getting ready for the big moment, and he hadn’t bothered to tell them he was there.
No sense in making a scene.
His gaze scanned the room below, searching for Daisy, but she was likely busy getting ready, too.
He’d been so preoccupied searching for her that he didn’t notice that someone had joined him upstairs.
“I didn’t think you were coming,” said Brent, Janey’s father.
The man was in his fifties, with salt-and-pepper hair and a tall, lean build. He’d lost weight since the funeral, and his gray eyes had lost some of their spark.
The instant Mark saw him, a wave of emotion crashed into him. Part grief, part regret, part guilt. He could barely look at Brent without remembering the way he’d failed Janey.
“I wasn’t planning to,” Mark said. “Kind of a last minute thing.”
Brent nodded and stared down into the sanctuary. “It’s good to see you again. Maggie and I hated the idea of you being all alone in the woods like that with no way for anyone to call and check on you.”
“I never meant to worry anyone.”
Brent folded his hands in his lap and held on tight to himself. “I know you needed some time alone—that you can’t stand to be around me—but this is your home. You belong here in Whisper Lake.”
Shock rocked Mark so hard he hit the back of the pew. “Can’t stand to be around you? What are you talking about?”
The older man’s eyes welled with tears. “I wasn’t there for her. She was my little girl—my responsibility—and I wasn’t there.”
“You think I blame you for what happened?” Mark asked, dumbfounded.
“No more than I blame myself. Maggie and I pushed her to get her own apartment and be independent. If we’d let her stay home and live with us until the wedding, she’d still be alive.”
“That’s crazy. All Janey ever talked about was getting a little place of her own that we could move into when we married. You didn’t push her to do anything.”
“We did. Her mom and I have been over and over it, and we know we could have saved her. If we’d just done one little thing different.…”
“That’s how I feel,” Mark admitted. “If we hadn’t gone fishing. If we’d come home early. If, if, if.”
“You did nothing wrong, son. All you ever did was love her.”
“And you didn’t?” Mark asked, hoping to show the man who would have been his fat
her by marriage that he was wrong to blame himself.
Brent buried his face in his hands.
In that instant, Mark realized the truth. He was doing to himself exactly the same thing Brent was. They were both assuming guilt for something that wasn’t their fault. Even if they hadn’t gone on that fishing trip, Mark might not have seen Janey that night. Even if he’d been with her, he might not have realized how badly the fall had hurt her. There were no visible bruises—they were all under her hair—and she had always been stubborn about not going to see doctors. Maybe there was plenty of fault to go around.
Or none at all.
Bad shit happened. Car accidents, cancer, heart attacks, natural disasters…bad things were always happening to good people.
Mark had lost his fiancée, but Brent had lost a daughter. The responsibility he felt for Janey’s death had to be even more painful.
He’d lost his baby girl.
Mark wrapped his arms around the man and simply held on. Tears flowed from his eyes, but they were clean, healing tears—the kind that washed away grief, rather than watering it so it could grow.
“It wasn’t your fault,” Mark told him. “It was no one’s fault.”
“Does that mean you forgive me?”
“There’s nothing to forgive. You raised a fantastic daughter who I had the honor to love for three precious years. That was a gift. She was a gift.”
Brent grabbed Mark by the shoulders and gave him a small shake. “You can’t keep living like you are. We need you to come home now. I need you close by so that I know you’re safe and happy. Janey would have wanted that. Promise me.”
The organ music changed, indicating the ceremony was about to start.
Brent held Mark’s gaze, his expression filled with desperation. “Promise me you’ll come home. Promise me you’ll find a happy life for yourself.”
Mark’s throat was tight, but he managed a small nod. “I promise.”
Brent hugged him, wiped his eyes, and then left to join his wife in the sanctuary below.
Music swelled as the ceremony started. With each passing note, a sense of dread filled Mark, because he knew that while it was his sister getting married today, the only face he was going to see coming down that aisle was Janey’s. She should have had a day like this. The flowers, the white dress, the people gathered to celebrate with them…knowing that her death wasn’t his fault didn’t change the fact that he still missed her like crazy.