She laughs as her fingers move to the buttons of my shirt. But her hands are clumsy, her giggles breaking between frustrated little huffs as the buttons refuse to cooperate.
My lips twitch, watching her struggle. “Need help?”
“I’m good,” she mutters, determined, before she gives up entirely and practically tears the shirt open.
I chuckle, amused—until she shifts, pressing herself closer, and lowers her mouth to my chest.
I’m not laughing anymore.
Every muscle in my body locks tight.
The heat of her mouth traces over my skin, slow and torturous, moving lower. Strands of her hair slip forward, falling over her face and tickling my stomach, a soft contrast to the searing path she’s carving with her lips.
By the time she reaches my waistband, my stomach is heaving with each shallow breath, muscles tensing beneath her touch. My head tilts back against the bed, but my eyes stay locked on her—heavy-lidded, drowning with need.
“Daisy,” I grit out.
She reaches for my zip, and I move aggressively, helping her—yanking off trousers, boxers,anythingstanding in the way of skin on skin.
I might be out of the dating game, but evenIknow socks are adefiniteno.
I’msofucking hard, it’s almost painful.
I should not want this as much as I do.
Every rational part of my brain is screaming that this is a monumental mistake.
Daisy is Sophia’s best friend. I’ve known her since she was practically a child. She’s significantly younger, at a different stage of life. Her history with Charlie—that painful, messy entanglement— should make her the last woman I’d ever consider touching.
On paper, she is the worst choice.
Yet, I cannot stay away.
“Your body is so . . .” she murmurs, the words catching in her throat before she huffs. “Ugh, I’m so turned on right now.”
An amused hum escapes me.
“Darling,” I murmur, the word slipping from my lips with just enough heat to make her shiver, “you’ve no idea what you do to me.”
Her gaze travels over me.
“Your thighs are thick and sexy,” she says, trailing her hands over the muscles there, tracing every inch of tension.
Her fingers hover dangerously close to my throbbing cock, already slick with precum. The veins thick and pulsing with the demand to be inside her. The swollen tip flushed a deep, needy red, twitching in anticipation.
Every muscle in my body tenses. Waiting. Wanting.
“Jesus, your dick is massive, Eddie,” she murmurs.
I groan, exasperated. “For the love of— don’t call me Eddie.”
Before I can scold her properly, she slides further down the bed until she’s face-level with my cock. Her fingers wrap around my length, giving a firm, deliberate stroke.
A full-body shudder rolls through me, pleasure rippling up my spine, my head tipping back. Like a man who’s never been touched before.
I force my gaze back down, fixated on her, and—Christ.
She takes me fully into her mouth, the wet heat of her lips closing around me, sending a violent shudder through my body. My head tilts back, but I force my eyes to stay on her—on the way her throat works as she swallows me deeper.
