33. Wolf
Iwas nervous waiting for Daisy to appear, although I didn’t know if it was because the recon we were gong to do would be Daisy’s first time at a sex club or because I was faced with the prospect of a bunch of other guys eyeing our girl.
And I knew they would, because Daisy didn’t realize it yet, but she was a fucking bombshell.
Jace stood in front of one of the mirrors in the living room, adjusting his tailored black blazer. He hadn’t bothered with a shirt, but he couldn’t stop fucking with the buttons on the blazer, fastening them both, unfastening them, and finally unfastening the bottom one.
Jesus fucking christ.
Five years ago we’d been kings.
Then we’d been convicts.
Now we were lapdogs, panting after a girl who couldn’t stand the sight of us.
I’d changed my shirt three times, from black to gray to midnight blue. We’d never been anywhere nice with Daisy, and I wanted to make a good impression, both because she deserved to have well-dressed men on her arm and because I was dying to get her back into bed. I was haunted by the scent of her skin, the slide of her tongue against mine, her fingers twining in my hair when I went down on her.
Beating off to the memory of fucking her had become my favorite pastime, but only because I knew I couldn’t have her.
Because I knew I’d lost her.
Only Otis seemed calm, playing a video game on the sofa while Jace paced the living room and I pretended I wasn’t as nervous as a freshman on prom night.
“Remember,” Jace said, “you two stay with her every second.”
“We know,” Otis and I said in unison.
We’d been over it: the sex club had rules, but it was still full of horny men and women, and Daisy wouldn’t know what to expect. Otis and I would be on Daisy duty, walking her around the club while Jace tried to snoop behind the metaphorical velvet rope.
“Just reminding you,” Jace said.
I wasn’t surprised when he’d offered to do recon while Otis and I kept an eye on Daisy even though I knew Jace was dying to fuck her. It wasn’t just the fact that he’d come close in the hall (thank you, Otis, for the image of Daisy in a wet T-shirt pulled up over her tits, ass out and underwear down around her knees). The sexual tension between them was palpable, a current of hunger that ran through all of their interactions.
Daisy might say excuse me to get around Jace, but what she was really saying was I’m dying for you to fuck me.
Jace might say do you mind? when Daisy was in his way, but what he meant was I’m dying to eat your pussy.
The only two people in the house who couldn’t hear it were Jace and Daisy. I was more than ready for them to get it over with so we could all play together, but I was also more than a little worried it wouldn’t happen, not just for Jace, but for any of us.
Daisy had kept to herself since we’d told her the truth about Blake, sleeping in her own room and giving us all a wide berth, leaving us to lust after her like animals, and in Jace’s case, to watch her on the security camera in her room.
The sick fuck.
Daisy’s heels sounded on the hardwood and I looked up in time to see her approaching the top of the staircase.
And holy rock hard dick, Batman.
“Hey,” she said, starting down the steps.
Jace’s gaze darkened as he watched her take the steps carefully in four-inch black heels, her dress (could something so small, something so deliciously revealing, be called a dress?) hugging her banging curves like a silk glove.
Otis didn’t even try to keep his cool. He just tossed the controller aside mid-game and stared. “Damn, doll. My dick is hard already and we haven’t even gotten to the sex club part.”
She rolled her eyes, but I thought I saw pleasure in her smile. It gave me hope: Daisy enjoying our compliments had to mean she didn’t completely hate us.
Or maybe I was just the worst kind of desperate asshole.
She stopped at the bottom of the stairs and I got a better look at the dress, a piece of black silk that wrapped around her luscious body and was tied closed with what seemed to be a single thin black string.
Her perfect tits were on full display, her nipples barely covered, the well of her cleavage calling my tongue like a siren’s song.
Our gazes locked and I remembered all the moments that had passed between us before she’d learned the truth about Blake: the way she laughed and the way she rolled her eyes when she was happy but didn’t want to show it, the way she moaned in bed and the soft weight of her in my arms as she drifted off to sleep.
That was when I knew was really fucked, that I didn’t just want Daisy.
That I loved her.
“You look incredible.” I didn’t even try to hide the fact that my voice was hoarse, that she made it hard for me to even speak.
“Thanks.” She looked down at the dress. “I can’t take credit for the dress though. That was Jace.” I glanced at Jace and the motherfucker was practically preening. “Thanks.”
He shrugged like it was no big deal, but I knew better, and if I knew Jace, the dress wasn’t the only gift he’d given Daisy.
I was suddenly even more excited to get to the Velvet Rope. Not that there was any guarantee that we’d get to see what was under the dress, but a man could hope.
“Are we going to stand here mooning over Daisy or are we going to fucking do this?” Jace asked.
God forbid he act human for more than half a second.
“We’re going to do this,” Daisy said.
I followed her to the door, mesmerized by the swish of her dress, barely covering her ass. It revealed her inner thighs in slivers, with a bonus flash of the garters holding up her black stockings.
Damn. I was either going to fuck her senseless at the Velvet Rope or I was going to come home the horniest man alive.
And as always, my fate was in Daisy Hammond’s hands.