by Zoe Lee
He sat up slowly as well, his heart in his throat.
Chapter 26
Daisy
Daisy tried to pull herself together, but her body was reverberating from her orgasm and Dunk’s I love you, and she couldn’t find her voice.
“Daisy,” Dunk repeated, and now there was a lick of panicked urgency over her softly spoken name, “baby, I need something here. Thumbs up, stop sign, timeout, something so I know you’re not…”
She fell against him, rocking him back, and his arms closed tight and sure around her again, and she pressed her wet cheek against his throat, then dragged it along his stubbled jaw. Quiet sobs shook her throat still.
“I—”
“Okay, darlin’, it’s okay, take your time,” he whispered into her hair.
“I’m sorry,” she gasped out, “I’m sorry, I can’t think.”
He slid an arm under her legs a little awkwardly and drew her onto his lap so that she was curled sideways over his thighs, encircled by him.
They stayed like that for a long while, and Dunk’s patience, his soothing, strong embrace, were so unbelievable that it almost made it harder for her to come up with words that could possibly show him how much she loved him too.
So of course when she did finally speak it wasn’t where she’d meant to start at all.
“I’ve never come that hard in my life.”
That shocked a guffaw out of him, his shoulders jerking with relieved amusement, and the tension broke in the air between them.
“I meant—oh shit, um, I meant—” she stammered, going hot. “I’m sorry, I meant that you… that my mind was completely empty and I was just so satisfied and blissed out, and then you said… and I couldn’t…”
Dunk pulled back, hands tight on her ribs, and grinned, a big, all teeth, all arrogant smirk. “Lifelong goal met, Daisy Rhys: fuck a girl speechless.”
“You—I—Dunk!” she cried in outrage.
“What?” he asked, too innocently.
“That was not fucking,” Daisy hissed, poking him in the pec.
“No?” he challenged, but there was an undercurrent of worry there.
Her face softened and she stroked her fingers down his stubble, scritching lightly, and smiled fondly at how his eyes got heavy-lidded.
“You know it wasn’t,” she whispered. “Maybe that’s what we did the first time at Jamie and Leda’s wedding, but it’s never been that since. It’s always been love-making, Dunk. I… we should’ve told each other.”
His eyes flashed hot and possessive, but his lips stayed pressed together, clearly not wanting to prompt her anymore or interrupt.
“I love you too, Duncan McCoy,” she declared quietly.
It was mid-morning in Memphis, in a room in a hotel whose name she couldn’t even remember, but it was the most memorable hour of her life, and saying the words… she hadn’t even known how tightly she was holding that in, how much tension and anxiety it had caused to do so.
“I love you,” she repeated, stronger and with finality.
“I wanted to tell you before, when we were dating.” He winced and then took a deep breath and shrugged self-deprecatingly. “But I’ve never been in love before and I don’t know the rules here. I don’t like the feeling and I know I put my foot in my mouth all the time, but that’s not really the same as doing something really wrong. I didn’t want to screw it up. But that’s no excuse. I should’ve said it, even if it had screwed something up.”
“You and me, loving each other is the easy part,” Daisy sighed, and it felt like a confession, a challenge and a plea all at once.
He tipped his head, frowning. “What do you mean?”
Daisy licked her lips nervously, but if Dunk could so readily admit he’d made some mistakes, then so could she.
“I have been in love before, but more importantly for right now, I was married, Dunk. I had a joint bank account. I had all those fights about if we could afford to go out for drinks with friends, and if we really needed dental insurance. I had my heart broken because Tyler wanted kids right away and I knew it wasn’t right,” she finished, her voice cracking.
“Oh, darlin’,” Dunk said.
“He was so sure that a baby would fix everything,” she said, the story pouring out of her hot and fast, like if she didn’t get it all out, she’d never be able to, even though she knew that wasn’t true. “It was like… he thought that once he didn’t need me to take care of him so much, that I was going to wither and blow away if I didn’t have someone to take care of, so of course a baby would fill that need. I couldn’t make him see that I hadn’t been ready to take care of him, that I didn’t want us to need each other, I wanted us to be partners who loved and wanted and chose each other.”
“I’m sorry things ended that way,” Dunk offered, simply.
Wiping her cheeks again, she sighed. “So I’m saying, we love each other, we have for a while. I think I knew that before we broke up. But there are so many other parts to a relationship, and we were bad at those.”
Dunk opened his mouth, but then he shut it and nodded once sharply, and thought about that. His fingers drew circles over her ribs, bumping up and down in the shallow dips between them, almost tickling Daisy.
Finally he moved them so they were sitting cross-legged, the bumps of their kneecaps pushed together, and looked at her earnestly.
“First thing: you love me and I love you.”
“I love you and you love me, check,” Daisy said with a quick smile.
He winked and squeezed her thigh affectionately. “Second thing: I think we should probably get back together. You can be all, ‘Hands off, ladies, this six-two nine-inch ten-pack stud muffin is all mine!’”
Daisy rolled her eyes. “Some Prince Charming,” she laughed, then shrieked when he darted close to tickle her. “Never mind,” she gasped, “I got it; you’re my six-one seven-inch eight-pack stud muffin.”
His eyes narrowed dangerously, but then he snickered and slid his fingers off her skin, and Daisy realized with a start that they were still completely naked, and she’d been so comfortable that she hadn’t noticed.
“Third thing, focus,” he teased, “let’s sightsee all day and then make love so hard we pass out. Tomorrow we’ll drive home while writing the playbook for our relationship. It’s going to be brutal, and we’re going to need to get drunk as hell once we get to Maybelle, but we’ll survive. Deal?”
Although her stomach twisted a little at the idea of all of the things they’d have to talk about tomorrow—like their busy schedules and how to handle dividing their free time between spending time together and having time to themselves—she couldn’t help but laugh.
“So you just want to get it all out of the way,” she said dryly.
“Let’s do it,” he said fearlessly. “Let’s just get into it. Let’s get into what I consider clean versus what you consider dirty. Let’s get into all the women’s numbers in my phone and all the porn on your laptop.”
She sputtered, “You’re so ridiculous—”
“But I’m not wrong!” he cried in triumph.
Trying to hide a smile at his infectious enthusiasm for making things work, she rolled off the bed and said, “Come on, Coach, let’s shower.”
“Give a guy’s dick a break, Daisy,” he mock-complained as he padded after her into the bathroom, caressing her hip when she bent to turn on the shower. “You’re so sexy, but it makes my dick literally hurt so soon after our A+ love-making an hour ago,” he groaned.
Still he managed to survive their shower, probably because Daisy had to wash her hair and shave her legs, a novel experience that he watched carefully. It charmed Daisy, but made her realize how big a learning curve they would have together. She had been married to Tyler for years, and Dunk had never even had a real girlfriend. At least he’d been to college, she thought tartly as she dried her hair, and had had roommates.
But she put all of those concerns aside once they were dressed, throwing herself
into the excitement of going to Graceland and then Sun Studios, where so many blues artists had recorded. They held hands, dropped kisses on lips and hands and necks a million times, and were probably obnoxiously schmoopy to everyone around them.
People probably thought they were on their honeymoon, Daisy thought a little wistfully. Way too early for that thought, she warned herself.
When they got back to the hotel, they got a recommendation for an upscale, romantic restaurant from the front desk clerk, since it was the last night of their trip and they’d had such a big, romantic day.
They went upstairs to put on the nicest outfits they’d brought. Dunk’s was far more casual, a navy button-down and khakis, which she teased him for. But he combed his hair loosely back off his face and rolled up his sleeves. Between that and his cologne, she was a little dizzy. She wore a pale pink dress with a low, tight bodice and wedges that gave her a little extra height, and made her legs look extra-fantastic, according to Dunk.
The restaurant was Italian, which made Daisy laugh a little because Italian was messy to eat, so why was it always the go-to choice for romantic meals?
But she didn’t care, because their table was small, barely big enough for two dinner plates and two glasses, so she and Dunk could touch the whole meal. They didn’t talk about anything remotely serious, and Daisy had enough wine to make her even more euphoric than she already had been. Dunk ate enough bread to soak up all his beer, luckily, so when they stood up to leave and she felt the room tilt a bit, he just laughed good-naturedly and gave her a piggyback ride back to the hotel.
“My faithful steed!” she cried once they were moving.
“Prince Charming is the one with the faithful steed, not Cinderella,” Dunk pointed out, hefting her a little higher up on his waist.
“Don’t be a party pooper,” Daisy sniffed self-righteously. “I deserve a faithful steed of my own, no matter if I hold a title or not.”
“Yes you do, darlin’,” Dunk agreed with obvious amusement.
“I get why your brain came up with the sex Cinderella thing, what with you only remembering tiny, pretty non-specific things about me when you woke up the morning after Jamie and Leda’s wedding,” Daisy rambled thoughtfully. “But I’ve never thought of myself as a Cinderella.”
Dunk chuckled. “Yeah?”
Sighing, she stroked his hair while her other arm was around his neck, probably half-choking him, but she didn’t notice. “My brothers call me Buttercup,” she admitted in a whisper, not sure if he knew already.
“She’s a very good princess,” Dunk agreed.
“You bet she is!” Daisy enthused. “She’s fierce and loyal and beautiful!”
“I could be Wesley,” Dunk said. “I could pull off that pirate mask.”
Daisy pumped her fist in the air and cried, “Next Halloween, that’s what we’re going to do! Cheesy couples costume, The Princess Bride.”
“‘As you wish,’” Dunk quoted. Daisy melted against him with another sigh, this one content, and rubbed his chest lazily. He moved one hand to totally support her butt, freeing his other hand to slap her away from her quest to rub as much of his chest and abs as she could. “Save it for the hotel room,” he warned.
“Good thing the hotel’s right across the street,” Daisy muttered as they turned a corner and their hotel came into view, “I don’t think I have very much patience left. Let’s rip each other’s clothes off. No, wait. First you should remind me what you can do under my dress. I said I missed you and I love you, and I totally, completely do, but… your mouth,” she moaned.
Dunk stumbled up the curb, gripping her hard to keep her from falling off, and cursed under his breath.
“A boner in public,” Dunk mumbled, shifting his grip so her shoes covered his bulge as they took an elevator with a few people who stared, probably more at a woman getting a piggyback ride than at his dick.
Daisy hid her snickers in the back of Dunk’s neck.
Once they finally got inside their room, Daisy sort of fell off Dunk’s back and he caught her and pressed her into the wall. His mouth swooped down and her jaw flexed open to let his tongue in. Her hands, tingling with the desire to run all over him without clothes in the way, fumbled at his buttons and shoved his shirt off his shoulders. It caught around his wrists and she whined impatiently when he had to pull away from her to untangle it and toss it aside.
But he was back a second later, their tongues dueling, and he hitched one of her knees over his elbow and rocked their hips together. She wedged her hand between them and undid his pants to get his perfect dick free of his briefs, thumbing the tip and stroking the shaft teasingly. Letting it go, she drew her panties aside and strained up and against him, begging aloud mindlessly, not even aware of it.
Instead of sliding home in one strong push, Dunk mouthed at her neck and the generous amount of cleavage above her bodice, kept her hips pinned to the wall so she couldn’t move, and edged into her over endless, torturous minutes. Daisy thought she would lose her mind, her senses exploding with every new fraction of an inch he gained, groaning in frustrated loss with every withdrawal from her body.
Just when he’d built up a solid rhythm, just when Daisy felt her body tightening up with a gathering orgasm, he pulled completely out abruptly.
She cried out wordlessly in protest, but it cut off with a gurgled moan when he tossed her on the bed and buried his mouth between her thighs.
He’d always been so good at this, focused but fun, teasing and nibbling before using quick, fast licks that sent her tumbling happily over the edge.
This time… this was out of this world, finesse completely thrown over in favor of unchecked desire. Daisy was being eaten out, devoured, his tongue plunging into her then dragging hard and long over her clit. Her hips churned to complement his movements, her fingers winding through his hair and tugging with every pleasured cry that broke over her lips.
And then it happened again—he took his mouth off of her just when she was about to orgasm. She lurched up with a growl, but he rose up over her and plunged into her in one smooth, relentless push, and Daisy screamed, shattering around him. But he didn’t stop, all but pulling out and then plunging back into her all the way, and she cried out again, scrabbling for leverage at his shoulders.
Her eyes flew open when he angled to drag over that spot inside of her, and he grinned with a predatory flash of teeth, his desire stark on his face that immediately had her tossed into the heights of pleasure again.
“Daisy,” he growled, “you’re so damn perfect, shit, oh God—”
“I love you so much,” Daisy cried out, overjoyed, and then she sobbed breathlessly when that made him jerk hotly into her over and over.
He collapsed face-first into the pillow, and she rolled onto her side to stay with him, her heart galloping and her world absolutely perfect.
Once they could think, they dragged themselves into the bathroom to wash up and drink some much-needed water, then crashed back into bed.
Dunk caught Daisy up in the lee of his body and nuzzled at the nape of her neck. “You’re my perfect fit,” Dunk murmured as Daisy fell asleep.
Chapter 27
Dunk
They crossed the county line sometime after dinner.
Aden was at work and Chase was at the diner with Seth, according to her social media. They went to Dunk’s so he could get his truck and drop off their luggage, then followed Daisy in the Shelby to Aden and Chase’s. Daisy parked the Shelby in their garage and then Dunk drove them straight to Irish’s, figuring the odds of running into their friends at the dive bar were low.
Then there were so many shots that Dunk lost count.
“One Hot Damn shot for my Princess and one Mad Dog shot for the Coach,” he slurred, carrying the round to their table in unsteady hands.
Daisy used two hands to take her shot with drunken, exaggerated care.
“May the face of every good news and the back of every bad news be towards us,” Dunk into
ned solemnly, his grandfather’s favorite Irish toast.
Smiling lopsidedly, Daisy raised her glass, so Dunk clinked his against hers and then flung the shot down his throat, grunting at the taste.
Other than the toast and short exchanges on what to drink next, they hadn’t spoken at Irish’s at all. Dunk’s throat was raw and his body was sore with the residual tension from hashing out every fucking thing in their lives for eight hours.
It had been just as brutal as Dunk predicted.
Parts of it had made him feel guilty and dumb and naive. Upset and regretful and like he’d missed a million opportunities. Confused and hopeful and demoralized. A hundred times, he’d almost jerked the Shelby onto the shoulder, gotten out, and walked all the way back to Maybelle alone.
But he hadn’t, because learning was nothing to be ashamed of.
“I feel like we’re best friends now,” Dunk blurted out in confession.
Even after everything they’d said to each other today, that still made his stomach swoop unpleasantly, but he held eye contact.
Daisy’s eyelashes fluttered and her lush mouth curled up the tiniest bit on the right side, which was her quietest, most loving smile, just for him.
“Like, we survived that car trip together,” he went on.
“Do you think we’ll ever have another fight that bad?” Daisy asked in a small voice, that smile uncurling and her lips flattening out in uncertainty.
Dunk had had a lot of defining moments in his life, and even the hardest ones, he came through positive and still happy. But today had been the most important day of his life, no question.
Things had always been pretty easy for him, without a doubt—making friends, playing football, coaching, getting a girl to smile at him. People had always smacked him on the back of the head and rolled their eyes and told him that he didn’t know what the hell he was talking about.
And he had always taken it in stride, confident that it was just good-natured teasing and that he knew more than people thought. Like, he’d stolen the keys to Chase’s rental car, sick at the idea that she’d leave Maybelle before she and Aden could really talk to each other and see they were meant. Like, he’d seen Jamie and Leda circle each other, so he’d stuck his foot in his mouth, sure that they were a perfect match, if Leda could rediscover her bravery and if Jamie could be patient. And he’d been so right, both times, and now his best friends were happy as hell.