Kissing Madeline (Dearest #3) (21 page)

I reach down, dragging my fingers between her legs. A groan rumbles in my chest when I feel how wet she is, how swollen and ready, and I push two fingers into her.

“Daren. Yes.”

Fuck, I love when she says my name.

“What do you need, baby?”

“Y… You. I need you. Inside me. Now.”

She’s panting and pushing against my hand, and my dick is angry from not having a turn, but that’s too bad because I need my mouth on her first.

I kneel behind her and take a long lick up her swollen slit.

She gasps and bucks backward. “Fuck, Daren. Fuck.”

That’s all the encouragement I need, and I rub her clit with my thumb as I caress her slick folds. But it’s when I lick farther up against her tight rim that she screams and falls apart, her swollen nub throbbing against my hand.
Interesting.
I file that away for future reference as I stand.

Keeping the pressure with my hand, I stand and nudge my cock into her snug pussy, and I’m rewarded by her frantic thrashing as she presses back into me and bucks.

Goddamn, she’s so tight. I thrust harder, pushing to the hilt, and she’s screaming, “Yes!”

Within minutes, she’s coming on me again, pulsing hard, and I’m swelling into her.

Then my mouth finds that silky expanse between her neck and shoulder, and I bite and suck because I need more of her. All of her.

She stills, and I pause to feel the race of her pulse against my tongue, appreciating how my heart is beating in the same rapid-fire rhythm.

“Baby,” I whisper against her ear, and she turns to kiss me. I tilt my hips and drag against her, and she moans.

Not to be outdone, my little wildcat reaches down and wraps her hand around the base of my cock as I continue to push into her, and I am done.

Tugging her hips up, I damn near lift her feet off the ground when I come with a shout because she’s the best thing I have ever felt.

She’s gripping the shower rail with one hand and laughing at how carried away I’ve gotten. We’re both gasping and out of breath and somehow sweaty in a shower.

Eventually, I set her on her feet and gently ease out of her before I turn her around in my arms. “That was… wow.” 

The smile on her face makes my heart beat just a little faster. She nods slowly, a shy expression on her face as she glances down. “I could get used to that wow.”

When she looks up, I stare into those bright blue eyes, feeling a little lost and a little found, confused as fuck and like I’m staring at my answer. And then I tell her in all honesty, “I could too.” Because no matter what, I’m not letting go.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

- Maddie -

This has to be a mistake.
A tall bouquet of lavender roses takes up half the reception desk.

“Are you sure?” I ask Susan, the secretary, who will be retiring next month. I lean over and smell a bloom. Wowzers, they smell great. So sweet, almost fruity.

Susan raises an eyebrow. “Someone is getting a little Hammer time.” She giggles, and I wrinkle my nose.
Hammer time?

No way will I even hint at my sex life while at work, so I school my features.

She waggles her eyebrows at me. “The courier said it was for Madeline McDermott. That would be you. And this wasn’t cheap. It’s Sunday. No one delivers on Sunday.”

I feign indifference and thank her for paging me before heading back to my cubicle.

The arrangement is heavy, and I have to wrap both arms around the glass vase. I’m a little afraid I’m going to trip in these heels and land in a swan dive.

When I’m back at my desk, all I can do is stare at the bouquet.

Daren did not just send two dozen roses to my job. He’d never. Would he? For something that’s casual?

A pang in my chest aches as I think about what that means.

I’ve been freaking out all morning over what I told him last night. It just poured out of me. The poor man probably didn’t know what to do with crazy Maddie and her big mouth. Because “casual” does not mean detailing how your dad died before you went into a tailspin. How it led you to change the whole direction of your life.

Of course Daren was sweet. He’s always sweet. He was freaking Prince Charming, consoling me while I sobbed all over him. Well, before I pounced on him in the shower. And then he became one of those guys in Sheri’s dirty books, which I’m thinking I need to start reading.

I bury my head in my hand, still not quite believing I threw myself at him like that. But my jaw still aches, a reminder of exactly how far I went. Jeez.

After unloading that story, I wanted to be close to him. It was like I was addicted to him, to how safe he made me feel.

And I am not the kind of girl who throws herself at men, but that’s what I did last night.

When I snuck out of his bed at four thirty this morning, he reached for me and told me he’d miss me, and I felt like a lightning bug, buzzing and alive with hunger for him.

But by the time I got to work, though, the excitement had worn off. Because men say all kinds of things in the middle of the night when a girl is naked.

My palm presses into my stomach to quell my nerves.

“Open the card, Maddie. Stop being a freak,” I whisper to myself.

The card, like the bouquet, is exquisite and written on a thick cream card stock.
For the girl with the purple streak in her hair. I owe her a date. xo

“Damn, that’s kind of awesome,” Nicole says over my shoulder, making me jump.

“Jesus Christ, you scared me.” My heart bangs away under my palm where I clutch my chest.

Thank God Daren didn’t sign that card. Because, holy crap, he sent me flowers! That giddy feeling I’ve been fighting all day comes flooding back, and I can’t help the smile that lifts my lips.

Turning my back to Nicole so she can’t see my stupid grin, I take a deep breath and try to calm down. I’m not sure how much Nicole saw, and I don’t bother to ask when I tuck the card away and try to focus on my mile-long to-do list. But it’s hard.

Daren sent me flowers. A whole freaking field of flowers!

The teenage Maddie who secretly swooned over him during our first interview is doing a cartwheel and spirit fingers.

I shouldn’t be this excited. I need to have realistic expectations. He’s an NFL player for Christ’s sake.
Calm down, Maddie.

And shit. I'm. At. Work. Part of me wants to die from happiness while the other half is considering hiding the bouquet behind the recycling bin.

“You’re really not going to tell me who they’re from?” Nicole huffs.

“Nope.”

My heart thunders in my chest.
Please go away, Nicole.
I really don't want her blabbing to the office.

Leaning forward to smell the bouquet again, she whisper-yells, “Is that a hickey?” as she points at me.

My hand rushes to cover my neck, and she busts out laughing.

“Nah, just kidding. But clearly you’re sexing up someone who
could
give you a hickey. And really, instead of that scowl on your face, you should be thanking me, because if I had gotten that gig interviewing him, maybe he’d be sending
me
roses right now.” Her eyebrows tilt up before she starts whistling the NFL theme.

She never says his name. She doesn’t need to. But the look in her eyes says it all.

My heart is beating fast and sweat builds on my neck. Damn it. I hope no one heard her comment. I’m so pissed that I fell for her dumb “look at that hickey” tactic, I’m not sure where to begin, but we’re interrupted when Brad clears his throat.

“Hey, Maddie.” His jaw is tight as he hovers in the doorway.

I return the greeting as I try to cool off, unsure why he’s shooting daggers at me with his eyes. Realizing I’m still clutching my throat, I lower my hand. “Hey, Brad. Did I forget to email you? I thought I submitted the paperwork you requested for the system upgrade.”

He scratches the back of his head and shakes his head. “No, I thought you might need… That you might want… Actually, never mind. You’re right. You turned everything in.”

Turning on his heel, he disappears around the partition.

Weird.

“Looks like your fanboy is jealous,” Nicole says, motioning toward my flowers.

I can’t help frowning. “What? No way. We don’t have that kind of relationship. We’re friends.” While he might have asked me out when I first started this job, from all of our interactions since then, I thought he’s been okay just being friends.

She shrugs. “Whatever. All I’m saying is he could give a shit about how many times my laptop freezes. He only ever asks you.”

Huh. “Well, we’ve chatted a few times, and we’ve had coffee once or twice on our lunch breaks. Maybe he’s just having a bad day.”

“Or maybe he’s lamenting the day little Maddie got herself a boyfriend.”

She swivels back to her desk, and butterflies take flight in my stomach.
Boyfriend
. Is that what Daren is?

I try all day to keep that smile to a minimum, but it’s parked on my face like a Broadway billboard.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

- Daren -

“Earth to Daren. Hello, douchebag.”

My best friend Jax stares at me across my kitchen table.

“What?” I ask, confused why he looks so pissed. I just fed the man.

“If you check your phone one more time, I’m gonna shove it up your ass.”

I roll my eyes with a laugh.

When a text comes in a minute later—the fifth one like this today—I start to get pissed. Glaring at Jax, I point my phone at him. “Did you sign me up to get porn pics sent to my phone? Or to get offers for sex”—I hold up my phone to read—“‘in your area. Discreet and convenient.’”

He barks out a laugh. “No, but I wish I had. That’s hysterical.”

“I’ve been getting them all day. I wonder if Quentin did this.” But really, this isn’t his style. Quentin would roll up on the corner with three girls and offer me one. “Fuck. I need to change my number.”

Jax asks for my phone, and I hand it to him.

“Won’t Dani mind that you’re looking at porn?” I ask, deciding I need to give him shit.

He laughs and shakes his head. “Dude, she watches it with me. She rocks my world. And anyway, her bod is way hotter. And the bonus? She won’t melt if she stands too close to the radiator.”

Okay then.

He tosses my phone back at me, and after I delete the text and block the number, I stare down at it, waiting for the one text I
do
want. I know the florist should have delivered the arrangement by now, but Maddie hasn’t called or texted, and I’m starting to get worried I went overboard.

Jax is talking, and I nod back at him. Then he murmurs, “I’m a hoe and I want to give you a blow.”

I nod again.

“Put your man nipples away. They’re turning me on.”

I stare at him. “What?”

“Exactly, dickhead. You’re not listening.” He glares at me a long minute before tossing a napkin at my head.

“Sorry. I guess I’m a little distracted.”

“Ya think?” He chuckles. “This has to be about a girl.”

“Why do you assume that? Maybe I’m waiting on a call from my agent.”

“This can’t be football because you’re usually serious as fuck about it, and it can’t be about that cunt Veronica because she just pisses you off.”

“Hey, don’t call her that.” I might still be pissed at her, but that’s no excuse to call a woman that word.

He places his hand over his heart. “So sorry. Let me rephrase. It can’t be about that
bitchface
Veronica.”

Like that’s better. I shake my head, not interested in talking about her anymore. Or ever again for that matter.

“This has nothing to do with her. She’s off, hopefully getting her life together. I wish her well.” Even as I say those words, I realize I don’t mean them. Not yet. I’m still too angry. But I know myself, and someday, I think I will mean it. At least, I hope I will.

He gives me a look and then rolls his eyes. “I’m not gonna recount all the ways that chick made you miserable. She even made you stop calling my sister by the nickname you gave her when you guys were in diapers.”

Emmie.
I couldn’t say Clem or Clementine when I was little, so she was my Emmie. After she and I worked through our baggage last fall, Veronica pitched a fit, making me swear I’d never call my ex-girlfriend by that nickname. I’m not sure why it was so important to her. Maybe it suggested too much familiarity. I don’t know. But the one time I slipped, Veronica threw a plate across my kitchen, shattering it against the wall.