His Best Mistake (Shillings Agency) Read online

  Don’t do that. It’s too sexy.

  No laughing allowed.

  Daisy wrapped her good arm around herself. “You’re both in security?”

  “Yes, we both work at Shillings.”

  “I know, but there’s different positions. Security. Analyst. Tech. Accounting.” Daisy cocked her head. “I know you don’t like dangerous jobs in your daughter’s life, so…?”

  Mark stiffened, recognizing the blow for what it was—a cheap shot. She’d called him out where he couldn’t defend himself without drawing attention to how well acquainted they were. She wasn’t even sure why she did it. Maybe because he looked so…so…fine. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m sure we never discussed it before.”

  “Didn’t we? Could’ve sworn it came up at the wedding.”

  He frowned, since she didn’t take his hint to knock it off. And she should have. She really should have. But something had gotten into her tonight, and there was no shaking it.

  Their friends watched with wide eyes.

  Mark glanced at them, then back at her with a frown. “Perhaps it did. Now that you mention it, I might recall this conversation. I’m not a big fan of dangerous jobs.”

  “But isn’t your job dangerous?” she asked slowly, blinking innocently. “Couldn’t it, in theory, take you away from your daughter?”

  Mark’s heated eyes turned frigid. “I’m not leaving my daughter any time soon, I assure you.”

  “But danger is danger.” She smiled coolly. “What if something happens on the job?”

  He smiled just as coldly. “What if a meteor falls out of the sky?”

  “Unlikely,” she retorted. “Where’s your daughter now, while you’re out having dinner? Who is watching her? Do you have a nanny in your employ? Or is she tucked in bed, home alone, when you go out and enjoy a beer?”

  Mark’s frown became a look of complete and utter anger. “I believe that’s none of your damn business, Ms. O’Rourke.”

  Too far. She’d taken it too far.

  Craaaaapppppp.

  She could feel three sets of eyes on her, each more shocked than the last. But talking to Mark, being in his presence again, had thrown her off. He threw her off.

  But that wasn’t any excuse for her behavior.

  “I’m—” she started, until an elbow jammed into her ribs.

  Lauren’s elbow, to be exact. She hissed, “Daisy.”

  “I know.” She held her hands out innocently. “I’m—”

  “It must be the cop in you,” said Mark, “needing to interrogate men you don’t know about their parenting habits.” He pressed his tongue against the inside of his mouth, doing his best to seem causal, but she could tell it was all an act. He looked seconds from killing her, telling her to go to hell, or kissing her. Maybe all three. “So I’ll humor you. My daughter is with my mother, if you must know. I’ve been working crazy hours, so we’ve been staying with her at her place all week long. That way I don’t have to wake her and drag her out of bed in the middle of the night, but I can still be with her. Speaking of beds—before you ask, yes, she has her own room there, with a princess canopy bed and a bunch of stuffed animals—including a duplicate of Mr. Bunny, her favorite animal, which she can’t sleep without. I promise you she’s well cared for when I’m gone, despite her lack of a mother. I do my damn best to make sure of that.”

  Daisy didn’t say anything at first.

  Just looked away, shame filling her.

  Going through her own crap that she didn’t truly understand didn’t give her an excuse to rudely attack him like that. It was uncalled for. And… and… “I’m sure she is.”

  “I take good care of my daughter,” Mark continued, his voice low as he stepped closer to her. Lauren and Steven stepped back, eyes wide, giving them privacy. “I put her needs above my own, always, denying myself something I want very much, and I will continue to do so until the day I die. She comes first. She always comes first. You, of all people, should know that.” His phone buzzed, and he glanced down. “Speaking of which, that’s a FaceTime from her now. I have to take this. If you’ll excuse me?”

  Steven and Lauren nodded.

  Daisy stood rooted to the spot, choking on her own guilt.

  As she watched, he lifted the phone and said hello in a soft, fatherly voice. She caught a brief glimpse of his daughter’s face as he showed her the restaurant he was in, then he told her he was going outside so he could tell her a story in the quiet, and he was gone.

  God, could he be any more perfect?

  Daisy swallowed hard and glanced at her friends, who looked at her with disapproval. And she didn’t blame them one little bit. “I’m…I’m sorry. That was uncalled for.”

  Steven shrugged. “We’re not the ones you should apologize to.”

  “I know.” She grabbed her purse. “I’ll go wait for him to get off the phone, then apologize privately. I don’t know what came over me.”

  Without waiting for them to reply, she walked off, following him outside. She pushed through the doors and heard him say, “And then they lived happily ever after.”

  Swallowing hard, she hugged her purse to her chest and waited. He spotted her as he hung up, and shoved his phone into his pocket. His strides were angry as he made his away over, stopping directly in front of her. “What the hell was that?”

  “I have no excuse. My dad was left in charge of me when my mom died, and he wasn’t… I just…” She swallowed hard. “It doesn’t matter what he did, or who he was. The truth of the matter is…I miss you. And seeing you like that threw me off. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”

  The line of his angry, hard jaw softened. “I miss you, too.”

  “Don’t.” She darted a quick glance at Lauren and Steven, who watched them through the glass way too closely. “We don’t work. We both know it. So just…don’t.”

  “I know,” Mark said gently, all traces of anger gone. “So. Dinner?”

  Daisy draped her purse over her shoulder and took a step back. Mark’s eyes narrowed at the slight retreat, as if he knew what was coming and wasn’t happy about it. Something had happened that night at the hotel—he’d wormed his way past her defenses, and now she couldn’t shake him. But she had to try anyway, and not sharing a meal with him was the first step in that direction. “I have a headache, so I’m going to go. Enjoy your dinner.”

  “Don’t go. Please.” Mark caught her hand. “I’ll go instead—”

  “Just let me go, Mark.”

  He dropped his hold on her immediately.

  She took off for her car, not looking back.

  If she looked back…

  She wouldn’t leave.

  Chapter Ten

  The moon shone down on the roofs of the cars that lined the street, and the tree in front of her building swayed gently in the northeasterly wind that swept through the green leaves with a grace he’d never shown in his whole life. He stared up at the brick exterior from the bottom of the stairs that led into the apartment complex where she lived. Like the last time he’d sought her out and stood outside her door, he knew it would be smarter to walk away. To listen to her when she said he should keep his distance before someone got hurt.

  But he never did.

  And tonight would be no different.

  When he’d seen her again, it was like a piece of him that had been asleep since he walked away from her had come back to life. He hadn’t known it was asleep. Hadn’t even sensed the loss. But the second they locked eyes and he saw her red hair and those bright green eyes that had haunted him every damn night, he’d felt that part of him flutter.

  That part of him died again when she ran away from a meal that she had every right to stay at. He should have been the one to leave, not her. Just like he shouldn’t be here now, about to knock on her door to tell her he missed her. He should take a page from her book and avoid her at all costs. Run in the opposite direction every time he saw her coming. But that part of him that had wok
en back up, the part that recognized her as a piece of himself…

  It wouldn’t shut the hell up because she felt it, too.

  She missed him. Had said so herself.

  So here he was.

  Again.

  Gritting his teeth, he took the stairs two at a time, making a left inside the building, toward her apartment number. Maybe it was a mistake, and maybe she’d slam the door in his face, but he had to do it anyway. Had to find out. He wasn’t the type to live with regrets. And he knew if he didn’t go up those stairs to her door and knock, he’d regret it for the rest of his goddamn life.

  He had to find out the end to their story.

  No matter how ugly it was.

  He knocked three times, pulse rushing, palms sweating. The door cracked open, and her face was there, staring at him through the gap. When she saw it was him, she pressed her mouth into a thin line. “How did you find out where I lived?”

  “I work at a security agency.” He lifted a shoulder. “It’s not hard.”

  “I told you I was sorry. I don’t know what came over me. I never should have attacked you like that—”

  He rested a hand on the wall beside her door, shaking his head, tugging on his tie with his free hand. “That’s not why I’m here.”

  Her eyes widened. “Then why—?”

  “You know why I’m here, Daisy. I can’t stop thinking about you. When I fall asleep, you’re in my head. I dream about you. Your laugh. Your hair. Your eyes. Your smile. All of it. Everything. And when I jack off to try to ease the ache you left behind, I think of you, but it doesn’t make it better. Nothing does. Nothing will. And I think you feel the same emptiness inside that I do. I think you’re hurting, too.” He locked eyes with her. “The question is, are you going to let me in so I can fix it, or are you going to close the door in my face?”

  She stared, and for the life of him, he had no fucking clue what she was going to do. Her grip on the knob shifted, and she opened the door. With a small sigh of relief, he closed the distance between them, his mouth seeking hers before he fully held her in his arms. She curled her unbroken hand in his shirt and held on tight as he ravished her, shutting the door behind him.

  His mouth moved over hers as he bunched up her T-shirt in his fist, breaking off only to rip it over her head. She gasped, her eyes wide, as he backed her against a wall, fully intending to take her right there, right now, as soon as possible, because God damn it, he needed her. He went for her mouth again, but she jerked to the left, avoiding his kiss. “First door on the right.”

  He skimmed his hand over her perfect ass. Taking the time to carry her to her bedroom was too much. He needed her now. “But—”

  “I have a roommate. One that’s not used to me having sex in the living room.” She took a steadying breath. “He’ll come investigate if we don’t go in my room. And he won’t be subtle.”

  Wait. He? Pulling back, he locked eyes with her, his hand still cupping her ass. “You live with a man?” he asked slowly, his brow furrowed.

  “I do. And you live with a girl.”

  “My daughter,” he said, laughing uneasily.

  “And he’s my roommate.” She lifted her chin. “Is that a problem for you?”

  He hesitated.

  To be jealous was insane.

  First of all, he wasn’t the jealous type. He’d never once felt this way when Tina was close with other men in her unit, and she’d bunked with a few of them from time to time.

  Second of all, just because Daisy lived with another man didn’t mean she was going to fuck him. If she wanted to fuck him, she already would have, and he wouldn’t just be a roommate who slept in another room in their shared apartment. He’d be her goddamned lover.

  And third, it was ridiculous for Mark to be jealous of another man, because he had absolutely no claim over her whatsoever. They weren’t a couple, and they weren’t going to be a couple, so why the hell was he turning green?

  Besides, the dude was probably a scrawny kid she’d known since high school.

  He clearly had nothing to worry about.

  “No, of course not,” he said quickly.

  “Good.” She tipped her head toward the door she mentioned. “So…?”

  Melding his mouth to hers, he walked down the hallway with their lips locked. He supported her weight as he easily opened the door and shut it quietly behind them. As he lowered her onto the bed, she slid out from under him. He blinked at the empty spot beneath him. “What the—?”

  So fast he barely saw it coming, she swept a foot under his ankle, and he hit the mattress face first. Before he could even be impressed at her skill in taking him down, she rolled him over and was straddling him. He groaned when she pressed against him. Shit.

  Maybe she’d killed him when she climbed on top of him, because he was in heaven. And he never wanted to leave. She caught his hands with her unbroken one, locking them down on the mattress. He could have fought back. Could have won. But he was curious where she was going with this, so he stayed completely still.

  She shot him a stern look from under her impossibly long lashes. “Hands above your head, sir. I’m going to search you for any weapons now.”

  “Seriously? You’re kidding, ri—Jesus.” He choked on a laugh, which turned into a groan when she “frisked” him. Her hand closed over his cock, and she squeezed the head through his khakis. She found a weapon, all right, and it was locked and loaded. “Daisy.”

  “Permission to speak not granted.” She ran her fingers over him, squeezing again. He groaned, reaching for her hip, but she slapped his hand away. “Don’t move. I didn’t give you leave to move.”

  He laid his arm over his head again, right where she’d had it. But the second he decided her fun was over? She’d be his. He liked being in control. Liked being the one calling the shots. But for this brief time…her on top of him, bossing him around, was hot as hell.

  So he stayed right where she wanted him.

  “Like that, ma’am?” he asked, his voice gravelly.

  She gave a curt nod. “Perfect. Now, back to my inspection…”

  Letting go of his cock, she tugged his tie over his head, tossing it over her shoulder. Her fingers moved over his buttons, undoing each one with a torturous brush of her soft fingertips. By the time she reached the last one, he was a trembling monster waiting to be unleashed, or he would be forced to unleash himself. Either way, things would end the same.

  With him buried deep inside her.

  She lowered her mouth to his, kissing him sweetly as her fingers toyed with his nipple. He hissed into her mouth when she twisted a little too hard, pressing down on his cock at the same time. His patience with this game was coming to an end, so it was a good thing that she undid his pants next, smirking down at him as she slid down his body.

  Once those were gone, the boxers followed, and she was leaning over him to open the drawer beside her bed. She pulled out a condom, then was back, straddling him.

  Her pajama pants were off, so all she wore was a sheer bra and matching panties. She trailed a finger down her own stomach, teasing the satin over the small patch of red curls he could make out through the sheer fabric over her panties. “You’ve been a bad boy, Mr. Matthews.”

  He gritted his teeth, his pulse pounding in his head. “Daisy.”

  She crawled between his thighs, closing her lips over him. The second she took him inside his mouth, he was a goner. He arched his hips up and buried his hands in her hair, not giving a damn if she’d told him to move or not. Her tongue moved over him and she sucked with the perfect amount of pressure to drive a man insane.

  When she rolled her tongue over him, sucking harder until he saw stars, he growled, “My turn.”

  Before she could argue, he rolled her over on her back like she had done to him, and he was kissing her. He traced the gentle curves of her body, every inch of her smooth skin driving him more and more insane. By the time he slid his hand between her thighs, she was writhing beneath
him, neck arched. He took a second to appreciate her beauty.

  How she tensed in anticipation.

  The way her cheeks flushed with pleasure.

  How soft her lips looked when they parted on a sigh.

  She was fucking beautiful.

  He thrust two fingers inside of her, and she arched her hips. He twisted his hand, pressing his thumb against her as he closed his mouth over her nipple, scraping his teeth against it. He brought her to the edge of orgasm, teasing her, dragging it out, and right as she was about to come, he pulled back, grinning when she cursed him out.

  He rolled the condom on, ignoring her.

  “You son of a bitch, I’ll—”

  He slammed his mouth down on hers, and thrust inside her fully.

  Her threats died and ended on a groan as she came, her body squeezing his until he almost joined her. But he held himself back, reaching between them to rub her clit as he continued moving his hips harder and faster, until she was crying and trembling, and his back bled.

  When she came one more time, he let himself go, digging his fingers into the soft flesh of her ass, fucking her with a wild abandon he’d never been able to fully let go of. As he came he groaned her name and dropped his head to the pillow beside hers, taking a long, drawn out breath at the same time. She skimmed her fingers down his back, rubbing it, and he closed his eyes, taking a second to enjoy this feeling.

  Daisy underneath him naked.

  Her touching him.

  Not pushing him away.

  Then he rolled off her, giving her breathing room. He flopped onto his back, his mind racing a million miles a minute. He looked at her room. It was the first bit of personal detail he’d been privy to besides her almost admission that her childhood had been less than ideal. The bedspread underneath them was a quilt, with hues of pink, green, and blue. She had four pillows on her bed, and it had been made neatly, with military grade corners.

  His was, too.

  They had that in common.

  She had a dresser with a few bottles of perfume and some pictures of herself with various people, some men, some not. Was one of them her dead fiancé? Perhaps the one kissing her cheek as she stared at the camera with a smile that was so bright and happy that it was blinding?