Know Her, Love Her: Daisy & Belmont, Book ONE (16 page)

The song had ended. Jacques made a big to-do about Daisy being there, and she cried. Dexter wiped the tears from her cheek, and Belmont wanted to break his neck. Then Betty Moreland sauntered on stage. When she’d asked Dexter if Daisy belonged to him, Belmont wanted to raise his hand and shout, “She belongs to me!” Dexter had said they were friends, but he didn’t say it as if he meant it. Betty Moreland didn’t believe Dexter, and neither did he.
 

Belmont had folded his arms, seething as he watched to see how far Daisy would take things with Dexter. She rubbed her ass against his dick. He had his hands all over her body. They would often stare into each other’s eyes. Belmont wanted so badly to break them up, to take Daisy back to her place and fuck her until they were both clear that no one touched her but him. He despised that she was having a good time and not at home crying her eyes out over their separation. Belmont was on his way to collect Daisy when a girl bumped into him.
 

“Sorry,” she had said, smiling. “Like your shirt.”
 

Belmont had said thank you and continued to push through the crowd. He stopped when an usher beat him to Daisy and escorted her and Dexter away from the stage. Belmont was going to follow, but he remembered Daisy saying that he always got what he wanted, and not in a good way. She’d made him feel guilty for being himself. But even he was touched by Jacques’s tribute to his daughter. It was Daisy’s father’s turn to make amends with her.
 

When the concert had ended, Belmont instructed his driver to take him to the address Dexter had given him. It was a brownstone just like the ones Daisy had admired during their night out in the limousine. The driver found a space to park down the street, and Belmont kept his glare fastened on the house. Hours passed. He wondered if they had decided to extend their night out. As far as Belmont was concerned, he and Daisy were more even than they were before she’d teasingly rubbed against Dexter during the concert.

Finally a taxicab had stopped in front of the house. Dexter held Daisy’s hand as they flowed out of the car. In one unexpected moment, Dexter tugged her against him and shoved his tongue down her throat. Belmont blinked a few times. He could hardly believe what he was seeing. Dexter grabbed her ass and worked his way up to her tits. Daisy was into it. Belmont came to his senses and bolted out of the car to break them up.
 

“Goddamn it,” Belmont muttered.
 

He was staying in an office suite on Dearborn near the riverfront. No one but Grey and Herald knew his whereabouts. The information Belmont had sent to Matt Silver and Holden Reece was explosive, and there was no way it couldn’t be tracked back to him. He thought it best to keep a low profile until they met on Monday.
 

As the night replayed in his mind, Belmont couldn’t fall asleep to save his life. Gaze pinned to the ceiling, he tried to figure out what the hell was going on between him and Daisy. Damn it, he wasn’t prepared to see her in another man’s arms.
 

His cell phone buzzed. He picked it up and looked at the screen. There was a message from Daisy:
“I’m sorry you saw that. I love you.”
Belmont let out an earsplitting roar. A call came through before he could heave the phone at the wall.

He looked at the screen. “What?”
 

“Found it,” Grey said.

“Is it solid?”

“As steel.”

“Tracks?”

“As water.”

“Harold will stop by.” Belmont hung up and placed a call.

Stacy picked up on the first ring. “What do you want from me?”
 

“Are you still in Chicago?”

“You know I am.”

Belmont ground his teeth to constrain the surge of anger. He said he would call her at seven a.m. to give her an address of where to meet him at eight. Belmont ended the call before she could say anything else. His phone buzzed again. It was another message from Daisy.

She wrote,
“I’m moving back into my parents’ condo. I’ll be there shortly. Just thought you might want to know.”

“Fuck!” Belmont shouted.

He texted her back,
“How are you getting there?”

“Taxi,”
she replied.

Belmont didn’t want Daisy calling a cab that late at night.
“I’ll send a car.”
He paused.
“I love you too. Always will.”
Send.

“Ok,”
she replied.
 

That was it. Belmont was disappointed she hadn’t asked him over so that they could try to resolve things.
 

He spent the rest of the night battling the urge to drop everything and show up on Daisy’s doorstep. It killed him that Dexter knew how her tight ass felt and how soft she was in a man’s arms. He was relieved he’d stopped them before Dexter had grabbed her tits. Belmont wanted her succulent tits in his mouth. He tossed and turned, trying to find a comfortable position on the hard bed.
 

Seven a.m. arrived, and he hadn’t slept a wink. He sent Stacy the address and made himself ready to meet her at eight. The security detail he’d hired patted her down before she entered his office.

“Really, Jack? You’re going to treat me like a common criminal?” she groused.

He walked up to her, eased up the hem of her tight dress, and slid his hand under her panties. He touched a recording device at the top of her ass crack and snatched it. “You were saying?”

“That was for my protection.”

Belmont grimaced. He’d always figured Stacy would be the last person he could
never
trust. “Did you read your mail?”
 

“I read it. I made a mistake. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry! I made a mistake!” She turned hysterical. “What are you going to do? Destroy me for it?”

Belmont remained composed. “Me? Destroy you? Your troubles aren’t my doing.”

“The hell they aren’t,” she snarled.

“Just like the rest of your clients, I was warned that you utilized illegal search tactics.” Belmont squinted curiously. “The memo said you had hacked financial data from top corporations for clients like, say, Reece Holdings?” He shook his head as if that was the worst thing he had ever heard. “You’re in deep shit.”

“You don’t have to do this, Jack. I let my emotions get the best of me. It won’t happen again.”

“I just want to know if there’s anything I can do to help. You’re going to be facing some serious charges.”

Stacy composed herself and sat in the chair in front of Belmont’s desk. “I do not want to be your foe. I knew I’d be burned to ashes the second I crossed you.”
 

He snarled, “Then why did you do it?”

“I said that I let my emotions get in the way.”

“She’s my wife!” Belmont roared.
 

She slapped her chest. “It’s my heart! I had a moment.”

Belmont sat across from her. “You had more than a moment. You’ve been recording our interactions from the start.”

“I record all of my interactions with my clients. I record our fucking, our eating, and if we had taken a piss together, I would’ve recorded that too. I do what I have to do to protect myself.”

Belmont rubbed the nape of his neck. “What frightens me the most is that you knew I wouldn’t be happy when I found out you’d recorded our interactions, and yet me making love to my wife is what made you expose yourself. Fuck, Stacy, I can never trust you again.”
 

Stacy released a long sigh. “I’m just a woman who made the mistake of treating you like someone who was merely a man.”
 

Belmont studied her for the longest time. He’d possibly crossed the line the moment he had used her companionship to relieve his yearning for Daisy. Stacy was the only reason he’d made it through four months straight without Daisy.
 

“She’s my wife,” he said emphatically enough for her to catch his drift. “You don’t call her. You don’t send her emails. I don’t ever want to learn that you spoke to her face-to-face.”

“I will never fuck up like that again,” she said.

Belmont nodded once.

She raised her eyebrows. “Then you forgive me?”

“As long as you realize that I’m not just a boy.”

“What about the heat on my ass?”

Belmont smirked. “I’ll find some ice for it. But workwise, we’re done. Friends-wise, I apologize for my part in this shit. I should’ve known better.”

Stacy raised a hand. “Don’t… You’re making it worse.” She stood and smoothed her skirt. “Thank you for the ice.”

Belmont watched her leave. He hoped letting her off the hook wouldn’t come back to bite him in the ass. At least he knew how to destroy her if necessary.
 

Monday’s meeting would be riskier. Belmont was on the verge of changing his mind about acquiring the riverfront property. The memories he’d made in Chicago so far weren’t pleasant, and Matthew Silver wasn’t Stacy Pruitt. Once Belmont bit a chunk out of Matthew, Matthew would require the same pound of flesh, if not more. Belmont had always walked a dangerous line between legitimacy and corruption. Threatening to out Reece Development for buying city, state, and federal officials to bypass policy, codes, and regulation was dangerous business. Especially once someone surreptitiously started naming names and leaking information to the press. Heads would roll, and there was a twenty percent chance one would be his.

***

Daisy

The night Belmont caught Dexter and I kissing, I laid in bed, unable to sleep. Belmont had never run away from me that way.
 

About an hour after Dexter and I had settled in for the night, he’d crept past my door whispering, “I’ll be right over,” in the tone a man uses when he’s horny.
 

I felt a pinch of something. I didn’t know if it was jealousy or if I felt disrespected. I’d risked my relationship by kissing him, and he ran out to screw another woman?
 

He’d chuckled and said he couldn’t wait to see her either. His feet pounded the stairs, and his keys rattled as he locked the door behind him. I thought he wanted me to hear him. I punched the pillow to make it more comfortable and to get out my frustration.
 

I thought, “What in the world am I doing lying in bed in some guy’s house?” In addition to that, Javar was on an airplane flying into Chicago. I wasn’t in the mood to deflect his constant advances, so I decided to pack my things and return to my parents’ overpriced condo on the other side of town. I texted Belmont and informed him of my plans to leave. I didn’t want him to think that the kiss Dexter and I had shared would be followed by a night of hot, steamy sex.
 

I’d wanted to invite him over so that we could, as he said, “fuck until we forget our issues,” but then I looked at the photos Stacy had sent. Each picture pulled at the scab over my heart. By the time I deleted the email, my heart was bleeding again. I whimpered throughout the night. Eventually I fell asleep, and when I woke up, whatever had plagued me on Saturday morning had returned with a vengeance. My nose was congested, and I could hardly breathe. I was sneezing, coughing, my throat ached, and I had chills. I turned off my cell phone and remained in bed, fading in and out of sleep all day Sunday.
 

On Monday, I call in sick. I feel like a car, a train, and two busses have run over me.
 

“Have you told Dexter already?” Melissa asks when I call in.

“If I’d told Dexter, then I wouldn’t be calling
you
.” I’m out of patience for her nastiness.
 

“Well, you live with him, so…”

“Goddamn it, just tell him,” I growl and end the call. What a bitch.
 

I’ve run out of tissues, but I’m too weak and achy to walk to the drugstore to buy more. I drag myself out of bed, find a roll of toilet paper, crawl back under the mounds of blankets, and go to sleep. Every now and then, I wake up to use the bathroom. Daytime and nighttime are trading places.
 

“Miss,” a woman with a thick Spanish accent says. “Miss, are you awake?”
 

“Yes.” I emerge out of the blankets. I see a tiny woman with black hair. “Are you the housekeeper?” It takes a lot of energy to speak.
 

“Yes, miss,” she says and looks over her shoulder. “She is well.”

I hear footsteps.
 

Javar Les appears in the doorway. “Daisy, what the hell!”
 

I groan and pull the covers back over my aching head. He turns my cell phone on, and it chimes and vibrates, alerting me that I have messages and missed calls.

“Get the hell out of bed,” Javar says. “Our flight leaves in four hours.”

“What?” I can’t believe he thinks I’m getting on an airplane in this condition. I bury the side of my face deeper into the pillow.

Javar rips the blankets off me. “Oh shit.”

I’m only wearing panties. “Just shoot the show without me. I quit.” I roll up into a ball.

“You cannot quit.”

“Could you please give me my blankets back and go?”

He sighs. “Your linens are grimy. I’ll be back in a flash.”

Moments later, I’m swept off the bed. Javar is carrying me.

“Where are you taking me?” I mumble.

“To the big bed. By the way, love your tits.”

“Touch them, and I’ll bite you.”

“Where?”

I groan as my clammy skin makes contact with dry, fresh sheets. Not too long after, a cold compress is placed on my forehead.
 

“Thanks, Belmont,” I mumble.

It’s early November. Belmont and I are on Martha’s Vineyard, swimming off the beach near Lambert’s Cove. The ocean, which is still warm from the past summer, is a cool but not cold sixty-something degrees. He catches me, and we swim to a boulder. Our mouths collide in a sensual kiss. I love him, but we’ve only just met.
 

“Daisy, will you give me your soul?” he asks.

His tongue takes an indulgent journey into my mouth. He shifts the crotch of my swimsuit, and his rock-hard erection impales me. I shudder as I’m immediately seized by orgasm. Belmont’s thrusts are slow and explorative. Our eyes lock.