Page 17 of Lucky Break


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“I’m not, you’re delicious,” I told her and chuckled as I grabbed her by the hand.

A smile crept over her lips and she glanced fleetingly at me before she looked at the floor, “Delicious doesn’t begin to describe how you taste,” she murmured under her breath, then looked shocked that she’d said that aloud. “I mean you’re Jamie Fontaine,” she added again, shrugging like it was a reasonable excuse.

“Will you stop reminding me who I am? Besides you’re Daisy O’Donnell.” She giggled infectiously, and it resonated in my core. I laughed with her and squeezed her hand affectionately. “I love the way you laugh,” I admitted, and our glance morphed into an intense stare.My heart raced as we shared an intimate moment until she broke away from my touch, turned and reached up for another whiskey.

“Here, try this one,” she said changing the thick air in the atmosphere and the subject. She poured from another bottle and handed me the glass.

“Are you trying to get me drunk?”

“Maybe?”

“Then what? You’ll have your wicked way with me?” Her plan for diverting our conversation was dead in the water because I’d brought us right back to the easy way we flirted together.

“Maybe I’m trying to make you unconscious?” she suggested.

“Unconscious drunk so that I can’t get it up, or unconscious drunk so you can have your way with me?”

“Probably the first one,” she replied with a rueful smile.

I reached up and took a lock of her short hair between my fingers. “Too bad because I think you’d rock my world,” I admitted with a small honest smile. “But I promise you, Daisy. I’m not going to do anything you’ll regret later.”

“But you’re so fucking tempting,” she confessed as the agony in eyes shone through as she searched my face. “I mean one night with Jamie Fontaine has to be worth five hundred with Donnie O’Brian,” she added as if to herself.

“Donnie O’Brian?”

“Yeah the fecker who cheated on me on New Year’s Eve. He’d been my boyfriend for over a year… he’d even asked to marry me.”

Without hesitation I pulled her against my chest again and thanked Devlin for his action which had given me another opportunity to hold Daisy in my arms.

“He has no idea what he’s lost,” I said as I stroked her back through her semi-sheer silken blouse.

“Oh he does. The bastard came crawling back night after night, begged me to take him back. I told him to shove his own cock up his arse… then wished him luck with that when I reminded him it was so small he’d be lucky to tuck that excuse for a dick between his thighs and make a mangina, never mind reach for the stars.”

Her comment made me chuckle. “Ah, that explains it. Never trust a man with a small dick. They will always try to find ways of trying to prove their virility.”

“Is that your excuse?”

“What?” I asked, confused.

“For being with so many women?”

“First, I’m not a cheat. Second, I have no girlfriend. Third, I like sex. Fourth and most relevant to your question, I don’t have a small dick. Having no girlfriend leads to many dates, hence the number of women I’ve slept with. I know it’s more than your three guys—” I stopped, cringing inwardly at my mistake.

“How do you know I’ve had three guys?” Her voice had risen in distress.

“Have you? It was a figure of speech,” I said grabbing the whiskey bottle she had left down on the bar and pouring myself another larger measure. Gaining my composure, I saw her tense stance and knew she was suspicious of what I’d said. I sighed like I was about to casually explain my remark. “Usually the women I date tell me they’ve only been with three guys,” I replied in a quick recovery. I even shocked myself by how quick the lie fell off my tongue.

When I saw her shoulders slump and her tension leave, she exhaled a long breath in my direction.

“Shall we sit? I’m tired. I’ve been up since yesterday or the day before… I’m not sure anymore. Maybe I’m a little delirious?” What I had needed was to go to bed, but I knew in the morning I’d have to go, and I was nowhere near ready to leave.

“Maybe we should just go to bed?”

“Is that what you want?” I asked.

“I mean our own beds—not together,” she added, quickly.

“I knew what you meant. Do you want to go to bed?”

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