Kissing Madeline (Dearest #3) (15 page)

Quentin and I chat for a while, but I keep finding my gaze on Camille and the way she’s leaning into Daren when she talks. How she flips her long hair over her shoulder and leans over, flashing him her cleavage.

In case he doesn’t get the hint, she bats her eyelashes at him. Who actually bats their eyelashes? Camille, the investment banker, that’s who. But my moderate irritation is quickly surpassed by a hot sting that starts in my chest and sweeps through me when she wraps her hand around his forearm.

He doesn’t flinch or look annoyed. No, Daren just keeps talking and signing whatever the girls hand him.

This. I need to remember this. Because girls throwing themselves at Daren is the norm, not the exception.

I feel like a fool for forgetting my vow to never date pro-athletes.

Wait. We’re not dating. We’re friends who have sex. I only asked him to be monogamous because I don’t want to expose myself to some nasty disease.

Which means he can flirt all he wants, right? He’s not my property. I’m not his. That’s the point of this arrangement. I’m not allowed to be jealous.

Oh my God. I’m jealous.

I’m not even dating the man, and I’m jealous.

Brilliant, Maddie.
I want to facepalm myself for getting into this situation. For agreeing to this arrangement. For inviting him over to our table. For allowing myself to care what Camille does and doesn’t do to this guy I’m… fucking.

I swallow, needing something stronger than a Diet Coke.

When the waitress delivers my vodka martini, Sheri gives me a strange look, her eyes shifting to Camille and Daren across the table and back to me again.

Ignoring the question in her eyes, I grab my phone and check my emails. Anything to get my act together. In my head I realize there is no reason I should be pissed. Daren has fans. Lots of them, many of whom are women. Hell, even our sports segment hones in on that interest. So why I’m sitting here like some wounded girlfriend is something I can’t quite comprehend.

One of the girls giggles across the table, and my mouth opens of its own volition. “So Daren, are you taking a sudden interest in romance novels?”

He laughs and rubs the stubble on his chin. “Is that what we’re calling it? I thought Sheri said you guys read smut.”

My roommate nods enthusiastically. “Maddie is trying to pretend she isn’t reading erotica.”

“I’m not reading erotica, freak. I came to hang out with you.” I honestly don’t have a clue what they’re reading this week.

“She’s missing out. Little Miss Manners doesn’t want to dirty up her Kindle.”

I don’t have to look up to feel Daren smirking. Rolling my eyes, I frown. “I can handle whatever you throw my way. I’m not some priss.”

I grab my drink and I’m mid-sip when Sheri adds, “Besides, I don’t think Maddie’s ready for cocks and clits.”

My drink spurts across the table as I choke. I cover my mouth, horrified to look like such a dork in public.

Determined to grab back some control, I turn to Sheri once I’ve caught my breath. “Just make sure my mouth isn’t full the next time we talk about cocks, and I won’t have any trouble swallowing.” I dab the corners of my mouth with my napkin.

How is that for manners? I am
so
not a priss.

Everyone laughs, cheering me on, but when my eyes reach Daren, his are smoldering hot.

But a minute later, his attention gets diverted when Camille pulls out her business card and leans into him as she explains how she’d like to “handle his portfolio.”

I bet.

And while I’m tempted to play with fire, I’ve had enough of this game for tonight. I finish my drink and tell Sheri I’m running to the restroom and then I’m taking off.

Her eyebrows pull tight. She whispers back, “I’m sorry. I was just joking. You know I didn’t mean anything by that, right?”

Giving her a small smile, I nod. “Of course. I have an early call time tomorrow, so I should get going.”

I wave bye to everyone at the table as I leave money on the table to cover my share, but people seem to be deep in conversation. Camille has lassoed Daren’s attention again, so I don’t bother trying to flag him down. Because that looks desperate. And I’m done with feeling desperate.

As I skirt around Quentin, I pat him on the back and wish him luck on his game Sunday.

He grabs my wrist and pulls me closer so he can whisper, “You know this is part of the gig, right? Daren has to talk to fans. He has to talk to girls. That’s his job.”

Ugh. Am I that transparent? My defenses rise. “Absolutely. And no offense, but what should it matter to me what he does one way or another? We’re just friends.”

He nods slowly, looking like he doesn’t quite believe me, and releases my arm.

Just friends. Friends with benefits.

But maybe we shouldn’t be.

* * *

Grateful to get away from that trainwreck, I head toward the back of the restaurant and down the long, dark hall that leads to the restroom where I can finally drop my defenses.

Staring at myself in the mirror, I try to get my act together. I feel like an ass. For caring what Daren does. For being so obviously bothered by Camille that Quentin said something.

See, this is why I, Maddie McDermott, do not embark on a sex-only relationship. How do I call this thing off?

I wash my hands and press my cool palms against my neck.

“This is supposed to be simple,” I tell myself in the mirror.

So I’ll keep things simple. Next time I see him, I’ll tell him I’m too busy to follow through on our arrangement. I’m sure he can appreciate that. And judging by the girls at our table ready to strip naked and gyrate on his lap, I’m pretty sure he can get casual sex anywhere.

With a sigh, I grab my purse and reach in to check my phone. I have one text message. From Daren.
Where’d you go?

My mind races with a dozen different things I should write back, but I settle on something simple.
It’s late. I have to get up early.

I toy with the idea of saying something snarkier, but like I said, I shouldn’t care.

I’m tucking my phone back in my purse as I walk out of the bathroom when I turn right into Daren.

“Jesus Christ, you scared me.” I laugh as I press my hand to my chest.

He has his phone out, and he’s reading my text. He doesn’t look amused. Straightening my shoulders, I move over as a woman edges around us to walk into the restroom.

Daren takes my arm and walks deeper down the hallway and around the corner where an exit door stands open. It’s dark, the only light coming from the moonlight outside. A cool breeze blows in, smelling of ocean air and rain.

“What’s this about? What happened back there?” he asks, releasing my arm.

“It’s nothing. I needed to go. I told everyone goodbye, but you were busy talking, and I didn’t want to interrupt.”

His eyes travel over my face in a slow sweep, a small smile pulling at his lips. “Are you jealous?”

“No, not at all.” The lie comes out easily enough.

“You shouldn’t be. You invited me over to your table. I was talking to your friends.”

“That was very kind of you. I appreciate it. But they’re not my friends, I mean, aside from Sheri.”
Do it, Maddie. Say what needs to be said.
“Honestly, I’m glad we have a chance to chat because I really can’t do”—I wave a finger back and forth between us—“this.”

He tilts his head. “What do you mean,
this
? You don’t want me to take you back to my place, strip off all your clothes, and fuck you until you’re hoarse from screaming my name?”

My mouth drops open, and a pulse starts between my thighs.

He chuckles and steps closer, forcing me back against the wall.  He tugs at the hem of my skirt. “Whatcha got down there, Maddie? I may have been talking to other girls at your table, but I can promise the only thing I was thinking about was what you have hiding beneath this skirt.”

I brace my hands on his chest—to push him away or hold myself up, I can’t decide. “We’re… we’re a bad idea, Daren.” I hate that my voice is shaky.

“Hmm. Or maybe we’re the best idea.” He brushes my hair away from my neck where he places a hot, open-mouthed kiss.

God. Damn.

My hands clutch at his shirt, and he nips at my delicate skin. I can’t stand it any longer and wrap my hands around his neck and pull him closer.

“You feel so good,” I whisper, shocked by my honesty. But Daren does that to me, gets me to say things I’d never dare utter.

He grabs my knee and pulls it up over his thigh and presses his hard body against mine. “I’ve had a hard-on all week thinking about you, and my hand isn’t doing it any justice.”

When he talks like this, I could melt on the spot. Hell, I
am
melting, my panties soaked, and we haven’t even done anything.

I burrow my face into his chest, his scent enveloping me. My heart is galloping in my chest, and I know I have a dozen reasons why I shouldn’t be hooking up with Daren, but I can’t think of a single one when he’s standing between my legs.

He tilts my face back until we’re nose to nose, his huge frame filling my vision. “Tell me later why we’re a bad idea. But tonight let me show you all the reasons we work.” And then his mouth descends to mine.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

- Daren -

Goddamn. She’s sexy. Even with the doubt behind her eyes.

I could tell she wanted to call things off. But the way her eyes widened as I got closer—how her breathing shallowed, how her cheeks flushed without me even touching her—are signs I'm not crazy. Signs that she wants this as much as I do.

Her tongue strokes mine in a teasing dance, but her fingers tighten in my hair as I press harder against her.

I nibble her lip and tighten my hold on her hips. “Come home with me tonight.”

When our eyes meet, hers are wild and luminescent in the dim light.

Maddie’s a glowing ember, and doesn’t even know it. And I want to stoke the fire. So fucking bad.

The sound of voices down the hall makes her push away. Reluctantly, I let go of her.

She holds her fingers to her lips. “We shouldn’t be doing this here.”

I grab that hand and place a soft kiss on her wrist. “C’mon, sweet thing. Let’s take a walk on the wild side.”

And then I turn for the exit behind us, pulling her behind me. The parking lot is packed, but it’s dark in the back where my SUV is parked under the branches of a large tree.

Cold rain pelts us, and before I have a chance to worry she’ll be pissed she’s getting drenched, her laughter rings.

Spotting a large puddle, I pick her up with one arm around her waist and one under her knees. Her gasping breath energizes me, and I turn back toward my SUV and resume our run.

I’ve never heard her so relaxed, so at ease that she giggles. Yet, here she is, gripping my shoulders, delight and shock on her face.

When we reach my car, I release her legs, letting them dangle as I hold her to my chest. Her shirt is damp and sticking to her skin.

“You’re soaked.”

She nods, and something in her eyes tells me she’s admitting to more than just her clothes being wet. I set her down on the ground, pleased to see her as out of breath as I feel.

Reaching into my pocket, I hit the key fob and the locks to my SUV snap open, but instead of reaching for the front door, I reach for the back.

Confusion tenses her brows until she gets what I’m suggesting. Her eyes dart around the parking lot, assessing the risk.

“Let’s be young and stupid. For once.” I run my thumb along her lower lip.

In what seems like a split-second decision, she nods and lets me lift her into the back seat. Following behind, I slam the door shut and reach for her.

I may have broken out the dirty talk a few minutes ago in the restaurant, but I don’t know what I expect from her tonight. Maybe nothing. Maybe everything. I’ll do whatever she wants or nothing at all. I just know I need to be in her space and breathe the same air. I’ve been daydreaming about this girl all damn week.

No sooner do I think to say we don’t have to be physical than she’s hiking her skirt up so she can straddle me. Let me just say that a pleated skirt never looks so fine as when Maddie McDermott wears one. She has this naughty schoolgirl vibe going
on that has me instantly rock hard.

My hands dip under her skirt and grip her gartered thighs. The fact that Maddie wears garters is seriously hot as fuck.

“I’ve been thinking about you,” I murmur as she grinds against my lap. She stares down at me, her hair damp and tangled. Her fingers slowly unbutton the top two buttons of her blouse, the sight of which has me wanting to rip off every button in a race to see her creamy skin.