She's All In: Club 3, Book 1 (26 page)

Sara stood awkwardly in the middle of the living room, looking ashamed. That was bad. Daisy’s stomach knotted. “Did someone…?”

Sara shook her head. “No. Almost.”

“Who was it?” Oh God, she hoped it wasn’t one of the guys she’d met.

“His name is Kevin.”

“Holy crap,” Daisy exploded. “That
asshole
. I hope they kicked his teeth in and broke both of his arms.”

“They sort of tried,” Sara admitted. “Dack threw him out into the parking lot and let Trace have him. I think the cops had to take him to the hospital.”

“So Dack was…?”

“He was holding me, comforting me,” Sara said. “That’s all, Daise. I swear.”

Daisy walked over and wrapped her arms around her slender friend. Sara was trembling. “Oh God, I’m so sorry,” Daisy whispered. “I’m sorry I doubted you.”

“That’s okay,” Sara said, her voice trembling. “I know how it must have looked. I probably would have thought the same thing.”

“Crap, crap, crap,” Daisy muttered, furious with herself. “I should have been there for you, instead of running away.”

“Okay, wine all around,” Carlie said behind them. “This calls for a little grape therapy.”

Daisy accepted the glass Carlie handed her. The three of them sat down. Daisy raised her glass, smiling through her tears.

“Here’s to girlfriends,” she said. “And I’ll try to be a better one in the future.”

Sara raised her glass as well. “You’re just fine the way you are. Dr. Carlie here pointed out that you didn’t doubt me as much as yourself.”

Carlie shrugged delicately. “It’s true, Daise. You know you’ve been a basket case worrying about whether you’re still the complete feminine package. That’s how you ended up at the club in the first place.”

Daisy sipped her wine. “You’re right,” she admitted. “I was just waiting for Dack to reject me, even after…” She took another fast drink, her face hot.

“Yes, you’ll have to tell us about lingerie night,” Carlie said meaningfully.

“Sometime,” Daisy said. Sometime far in the future. “But that is why I went to the club.”

“And how I got there too,” Sara said softly. “Although I’m not sure I’ll go back.”

“What happened?” Daisy asked. “I mean, I met Kevin, so I know he’s an asshole, but how did you and he end up together?”

Sara drained her glass and held it out to Carlie, who took it and went into the kitchenette.

“Well, he just seemed like a handsome, fun guy,” Sara said. “At first. He came over as soon as I walked in and introduced himself. We danced and had a drink, and then he excused himself to use the restroom. When he came back, he was kind of flushed, but I didn’t think much of it. It was hot in there, you know? So he kissed me and then invited me to come into one of the back rooms with him, and I…I went. I thought, what the heck, this is what I’m here for, isn’t it?”

She took her refilled glass back from Carlie and took a long drink, then set the glass down abruptly, lacing her hands together in her lap.

“Trace was glaring at me, and he and Kevin exchanged words, but again, I missed all the signs. Anyway, as soon as we got in the bedroom, I realized I didn’t want to be there. I tried to leave, and he…he grabbed me and threw me on the bed, told me I wanted it and I was going to get it. I tried to get away, and he punched me in the face, and then r-ripped my dress off. I screamed, and the next thing I knew, Trace was hauling him off of me, and Dack was there, and…” She shrugged, and Daisy scooted over to give her another hug. Sara was trembling like a nervous puppy.

“So while dear Kevin was in the bathroom, he did a line of coke,” Carlie put in. “That’s why he was acting so crazy.”

“That, and he’s a psycho bastard who likes hurting women,” Daisy said. Or maybe he’d been snorting coke the night she met him too.

Carlie nodded. “Trace took care of him. He knows some fighting moves. And,” she added with a significant look at Sara, “he was a little crazy mad himself. I talked to him earlier.”

So Trace was protective of Sara. Hmm, that was interesting. Daisy rubbed her friend’s back, wishing he’d been the one to comfort her instead of Dack. Then she wouldn’t have tripped on her own tongue, leaping to conclusions.

Then she remembered Dack’s pickup in front of Sara’s apartment. “Um, so Dack was at your place later because…?”

“I thought I saw Kevin outside,” Sara said miserably. “There was a car driving by really slow. The driver had blond hair, and I-I freaked. I called Dack, and he and Trace came over. It turned out Kevin was in jail, where he was supposed to be, so it was all for nothing.”

“So Dack and Trace were heroes,” Daisy said. “And I’m so, so screwed.”

She pressed her hand to her mouth, with a quiet moan of sheer misery. She’d screamed at Dack, accused him of awful things and refused to even listen to him. He must be so angry with her he’d probably never speak to her again.

She imagined walking into the gym or the club and having him turn away from her. Imagined never being held in his strong arms again. Never hearing that low, wicked chuckle while he teased her.

“I have to get him to listen,” she said. “I have to tell him that I’m sorry.”

Sara and Carlie exchanged a look. Carlie reached into her bag and pulled out a small shopping bag, which she handed to Sara.

Sara handed it to Daisy. “We have a plan for that,” she said.

Daisy looked at the metallic red lips on the side of the small bag. Wide-eyed, she pulled out a tiny scrap of black lace. “A thong? You shopped for me at Kiss Me, Kink Me?”

Her friends nodded, identical little smiles on their faces. “He’ll forgive you en-nee-thang, if you show up in that,” Carlie promised.

“Oh my God.” She couldn’t breathe. “You think I should…?”

“Well, you can wear a raincoat or something over it,” Sara said impatiently. “But you are putting that on, and you are going over to his place, Daisy Charles. Tonight.”

“Or else we will know the reason why,” Carlie added emphatically, her eyes dancing.

Daisy flew to her feet. “Oh my God. I have to shower. I have to fix my makeup. Oh God, my eyes look like crap after crying for two days.”

Her friends broke into laughter. “He’s not gonna be looking at your face, you idiot,” Carlie hooted.

Sara gave her a push toward her room. “Go on. We’ll let ourselves out. And you can call us tomorrow.”

“Thank you.” Daisy gave her a fierce hug, gave another to Carlie, and then flew into her room, ripping off her shorts and top as she went. “Love you guys. See you later.”

Daisy showered in record time, finger combed her hair, but then took twice as long as usual to fix her eye makeup. Shadow in the crease, mascara, and some concealer underneath.

She peered doubtfully at her reflection in the mirror. She hoped her friends were right and Dack wouldn’t care what her face looked like. She was flushed with excitement, her eyes sparkling with hope, but they were also still puffy from her crying jag.

Well, if he turned her away, she was going to cry for a lot longer.

She pulled the black thong on and then posed in front of her long mirror. Good thing she’d shaved her legs Saturday—she’d probably have cut an artery if she’d had to do it tonight. Good grief, she looked like a total tart, with nothing but the black strings slanting up over her hips, the small triangle covering her pubic hair.

She turned anxiously, her eyes widening at the way the thong disappeared between her ass cheeks. Did her butt look big? No, she’d hardly eaten anything today, or the day before, come to think of it.

Her breasts… Daisy took a deep breath and stared at her bare breasts. She lifted a hand to touch one full, white curve, wishing desperately she had long hair like Sara or Carlie. They could at least shake their hair forward and hide behind it a little.

But she couldn’t. She looked herself in the eye. Was she going to do this or not? Yes, she was. She was in love with him, and if she didn’t go to him now, she’d have to suffer for days, perhaps weeks while the two of them jockeyed around and finally had a conversation. And by that time, he might even be with another woman. He did own a sex club, after all.

The thought galvanized her. She turned away from the mirror. Now what the hell was she going to wear over it? She dithered over the kimono, a long black sweater, but finally did as Sara had suggested and put on her black spring duster with the tie belt. She thrust her feet into her black sandals, grabbed her purse and headed for the door.

Oh, please, God, let him be home.

She punched the address of his condo into the Nissan’s onboard GPS and followed the cheerful instructions through the winding, nighttime landscape of Beaverton.

Dack’s condo was on the ground floor of a landscaped complex. His truck was nowhere to be seen, but he had an attached garage, so he probably parked inside. She would if her apartment came with a garage.

Stepping up onto his front step, she could see lamplight glowing through the slats of the blinds on his front window, and the flicker of movement—a TV screen.

Daisy took a deep, shaky breath, blew it out and then pressed his doorbell before she could lose her courage.

Inside, footsteps thudded softly, and then the door opened. Dack stood inside, looking down at her. He wore a dark T-shirt, jeans and a cool look on his hard face, as if she were a stranger appearing at his door. Daisy bit her lip and swallowed. Oh God, he wasn’t going to make this easy.

“Hi, Dack,” she managed. “Can I—can I come in?”

His face inscrutable, he looked her over and then shrugged. “Sure, come on in.”

Daisy walked past him into his condo. She found herself on a tile area, with a spacious living room to the right done in beige and blue, and a hallway and kitchen back to the left. She stopped on the edge of the tiled floor, fingering the tie of her coat.

Dack sauntered past her and sank into the big, leather recliner. He picked up a remote, flicked the silent TV off and looked at her. “What can I do for you, Daisy?”

Call me Petal, she begged silently. He was still angry. Maybe he wouldn’t accept her apology at all. But she walked forward slowly, until she was a few feet from his chair.

“I came to apologize,” she said. “I realize now that I was wrong to doubt you, and I…I’m sorry. And I’m sorry for the things I said too.”

He looked down, quirking his lips as if considering her words. Daisy waited, her heart pounding so hard she was surprised he couldn’t hear it in the quiet room.

“The thing is, pe—Daisy,” he said, fingering a leather seam on the arm of his recliner. “That hurt like hell, to have you screaming at me from your doorstep, in front of half your neighborhood. If there’s one thing I hate, it’s a scene.” He cast her a dark look. “That kind of scene, anyhow.”

Daisy nodded quickly, hope beating its fragile wings in her chest. He’d nearly called her Petal. Maybe this could work after all.

With trembling fingers, she untied the belt of her coat. His gaze fell to her hands.

“I really am sorry,” she said.

He narrowed his eyes, and the corner of his mouth drew in. “How sorry?”

It was now or never. She let the belt drop and pulled her coat open. It slid off her bare shoulders, down her arms and hit the carpet around her feet in a soft whoosh. She stood there in nothing but the thong and her strappy black sandals.

“This sorry,” she said and knelt at his feet.

He stared down at her. Slowly, not missing an inch, his gaze travelled up over her bare body, lingering for a long, long moment on her breasts. Finally, when she was about to break, about to grab the coat and wrap it around her, scurry for the door, he looked up into her eyes. Every part of her zinged to attention at the look in his eyes. Here was her dom, demanding her compliance, her submission.

“Sorry enough to wear that to the club…for me?”

She gulped. And then found her courage somewhere and nodded. “If you want me to.”

His hands clenched on the arms of his chair. He took a deep breath, and his eyes fired with that dark, sexy heat she remembered so well. His hard face relaxed in a smile. “Thank you, Petal.”

Reaching down, he held out his hands to her, palms up. She put her hands in his much larger ones, and he tugged her to her feet. Then he slipped one warm, calloused hand around the small of her back and pulled her onto his lap, astride him in the leather chair.

Daisy put her hands on his shoulders for balance as she settled on his thighs. She searched his gaze with hers.

“Does this mean you forgive me?”

He laughed, a shaken sound. “Baby, I’d forgive you capital one murder when you come to me like this,” he growled, his hands slipping down to cup her bare ass and squeeze.

He bent his head and pressed a soft, warm kiss to the upper slope of her breast, his mustache and beard tickling her skin.

“You have no idea how beautiful you are right now,” he told her, kissing her other breast. “My shy, sexy Petal.”

He leaned his head against her breasts and took a deep breath, his arms tightening so she was pressed against him. She could feel his hot, moist breath on her skin, the tender skin of his face and the brush of his lashes. His heart thumping against hers. For the first time in days, she felt warm, clear through.