Know Her, Love Her: Daisy & Belmont, Book ONE (3 page)

I release the tension in my body when the sensation subsides.

Belmont takes his fingers out of me. “I didn’t know you were in town.”
 

I swallow the lump in my throat. “I believe you.”

“I’ve been waiting for you to call.” He stands and puts on his pants. “I don’t like that guy—Dexter. If you want to work in TV, I’ll talk to Vince.”

I groan. It’s the same old, same old. “Screw you, Belmont.” I roll off the bed, go to the wardrobe, and put on a robe.

“Do you like him or something?”

“Don’t insinuate things. We met for the first time today. But you don’t get to walk out on me and then control me too.”

He opens his mouth but studies me instead. He picks his coat up off the floor. “If I had known you would be at that restaurant, I would’ve chosen a different one. I didn’t want to see you until you made the first move.”

I roll my eyes. “That’s ridiculous.”

I think he’s surprised by my brashness. “Come here?”

I recognize the way he’s looking at me, so I shake my head and plant my feet. He looks stunned. I hardly ever say no to him.

“You want to know why I haven’t called you?” I ask. “It’s because you’re entitled.”

“Entitled?”

“You’re Hubbell Gardiner.”

“Who the hell is Hubbell Gardiner?”

“He’s a character in a movie,
The Way We Were
. And it’s not your fault. You’re good-looking and rich—a valuable commodity in our society. You walk out on me. You get a new girlfriend. You want to screw me, so I let you. Everything comes too easy for you.”

Belmont flings his coat onto the sofa as he walks over to stand in front of me. “Stacy’s not my mistress. We’re friends, and she’s working with me. I’m in Chicago because an investor here is selling off prime real estate to the highest bidder. But if money was all it took, I would’ve negotiated from the Vineyard. That’s where I’ve been living for the past four months.”

I’m not willing to let him off the hook so easily. “Then why did you take her to the wedding?”

He shrugs. “I didn’t want to go alone.”

“Have you ever had sex with her?”

Belmont’s eyes shift.
 

“Don’t lie to me,” I warn him.

“Not since I met you.” I try to walk away from him, but he grabs and embraces me. “It would be a hell of a lot easier to love her.”
 

I try to pull away from him again, but he hugs me tighter. He’s hard again.
 

“Daisy,” he whispers, “don’t deny me, please.”

“Do I ever?” I sound disappointed in myself.

“You could if you want.”

“I thought you were leaving?”

“Do you want me to go?”

I stare into his eyes.
Belmont is here in the flesh
. Four and a half months without him felt like a very long time spent in limbo. When I first met him, his eyes were mostly hazel. Tonight they’re a combination of blue, green, and hazel. The flecks are never in the same arrangement.
 

I shake my head. Belmont takes my hand and leads me to the bed. He lays me down, parts my legs, and puts his mouth on my pussy. We’ve only just begun. I’ll let him do whatever he wants. After all, he is entitled.

I moan
…

A Chipped Heart

My eyelids are heavy. The clock on the nightstand says it’s 1:34 p.m. It’s past my check-out time, and I’ve missed my flight back to L.A. It takes all my energy to sit up. My body feels as if I put it through a strenuous workout last night.
 

Belmont seizes my waist. “Where are you going?”
 

“To the bathroom.”

His tongue and lips make out with the small of my back. I inhale. It’s such an erotic sensation.

“Hurry up,” he says and lets go.
 

I pee and study myself in the mirror. Belmont has left passion marks all over my neck and on my waist and hips too. My nipples are tender, and so is the entrance of my pussy. I have no idea where Belmont gets his stamina. He comes, and ten minutes later, he’s back up. He says it’s not him, it’s me. He says he’s never been so aroused by a woman, but I don’t believe him. That would make little old me a powerful sexual stimulant, which is insanely ridiculous.

I wash my hands, rinse with mouthwash, and wipe the stickiness off of my belly. We did it six times throughout the night, and Belmont never came inside me. Instead, he came on me. I don’t really like it, but I’m happy he’s honoring my wishes.
 

As soon as I climb in bed, Belmont gathers me against him. His penis is erect. He parts my legs and plunges his fingers inside me.
 

“You’re so hot,” he whispers, pinning his cheek against mine. His fingers shift in and out, and he strokes my G-spot, which makes me gasp. “I need to go take a leak.”

We kiss.
 

“Damn it,” he complains and abandons me to empty his bladder.

I feel sexual again. Just to prove it, I fuck two of my fingers and roll my thumb around my clit. Belmont’s right—it’s hot, wet, and very tight. In and out my fingers plunge.

“Oh shit,” Belmont wheezes when he sees me.
 

In a matter of seconds, he pins my hands over my head and shoves his rock-hard dick inside me. I gasp.

“You’ve made me jealous of you,” he says.

I chuckle. “I’ve never been this horny in my life.”

He jabs me with his erection. “And I’ve never had pussy as tight as yours.”

I feel his girth and width. Belmont grabs my hips and angles his penis to rub my sensitive spot. I claw the pillow as he bounces me against his dick. He’s in control, handling me as though I’m as light as a feather. I scream as my walls pulsate around his throbbing penis. Belmont moans, thrusting me deeper, faster, harder… He lets go inside me.

“No!” I shriek and try to squirm out of his grasp.

He holds me tighter. I don’t move a muscle, and we don’t say a word. Belmont kisses and nibbles my shoulder. He massages my breasts and pinches my nipples.
 

I force my body to not respond. “Why did you do that?”
 

“What are you afraid of?”

“You know what I don’t want.”

Belmont pulls out, and our juices pour out of me. I curl into a ball and listen to him zip his pants. I’m still horny, but I have to process what just happened.

“I just don’t want us to make the same mistake twice.” I wait for him to respond.
 

He’s all dressed when he bends over to kiss my forehead. “I’ll call you.” He casually pulls open the door and leaves.
 

I let my gaze linger on the door for the longest time. The silence and stillness isn’t as peaceful as it was when he first walked out on me. It feels as if he’s gone for good this time. Tears roll freely from my eyes. Yes! I’m crying. I am part of the human race.
 

The room phone rings. I open my eyes. It’s dark, and I check the time on the clock. It’s six o’clock. Belmont’s scent rises from the abandoned side of the bed. When he and I committed to spending the night together, we turned our cell phones off so that we wouldn’t be disturbed. I stretch across the mattress to answer the call.
 

“Hello?” I sound hoarse.

“Daisy?” the man sounds surprised to hear my voice. “Hi.”

“Dexter?” I ask, remembering that I gave his assistant my itinerary.
 

“We just took a chance and tried you at this number. You’re still in Chicago?”

I flip onto my back and sigh. “I missed my flight.” Belmont must’ve paid for the extra day because the front desk hasn’t called, nor have the cleaners knocked on the door.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I guess I owe you an answer.”

“Not if you’re going to say no.”
 

“Okay, I’ll do it,” I say, choosing to go against Belmont’s wishes.
 

It’s Wednesday. We decide I should be in the office on Monday. I power on my cell phone and set it on the desk while I take a quick shower. I dry off and check my messages. I delete all the ones from Dexter and his assistant. Maya called twice asking if I want to have lunch this week. She and I have rekindled our friendship. She and Adrian, my ex-boyfriend, actually tied the knot. There’s one message from Maggie. She wants me to call her right away. I rebook my flight before ringing her back.
 

“Hi, Mags,” I say after she answers. I zip my jeans.

“What’s this about Vince conceptualizing a traveling show for you?”

“You talked to Belmont?”

“Vince wanted me to call and make sure it’s what you really want.”

I can picture the sour look on her face. “I was offered a job by Travel X Channel. They want me to produce and host a show. Belmont doesn’t want me working with the executive producer.”

“Dexter Frampton?” she asks.

“Do you know him?”

“I’ve heard of him. He does goddamn good work. Dais, I’m on your side in whatever’s going on between you and Jack. If I were married to Jack, he would drive me bat-shit insane.”

“Yeah,” I say with a sigh.
 

“He said you called him entitled. You were dead-on. Vince is too.”

“Speaking of Vince, how are things between you now that you’ve struck out on your own?” I say in an effort to change the subject.

“We jumped off the rails for a moment but now we’re back on track. So you and Jack hung out last night?”

I clip my bra closed. “Sex has never been our issue.”

“Communication is your issue!”

I slip on my tank top. Belmont’s scent lingers on the fabric. “Maybe.” We both know she’s right. “He asked for a divorce. Well, he said he thinks he wants a divorce.”

“Oh, he was just pouting. Jack wouldn’t know what to do with himself without you. He’s barely made it this far,” she says nonchalantly.

Hearing her say that makes me feel better. “Oh, did you know that Charlie and Angel are engaged? They’re throwing an engagement party.”

“When?”

“On the twelfth of next month.”

“Checking my calendar…”
 

I narrow one eye suspiciously while I wait.
 

“Oh, right. Yes. I’ll be there. So will you, right?”

“I just don’t understand why they’re throwing a party. They were so anti-wedding.”

“People change, Dais.”

I shrug. “I guess so.”

“I just never thought Charlie would get a woman to say yes to marrying
him
, especially one of Angelina’s caliber,” Maggie says.

I chuckle as I check the room to make sure I’m not leaving anything. Maggie congratulates me on my new gig and assures me that taking the job is the right thing to do.
 

I finish getting all of my things into my luggage, call a cab to take me to the airport, and go downstairs to check-out. I was right. Belmont took care of my bill and asked that I not be disturbed. He’s always looking out for me.
 

After going through the shenanigans of getting a new flight, a boarding pass, clearing TSA, waiting around to board, and enduring the four-hour flight to L.A., I’m finally in Malibu. I’m back in Belmont’s and my house. I go to the kitchen and take a tuna steak out of the freezer so it can thaw before I head upstairs to change into a tank dress. Then I walk down the hallway to my office to work on travel plans. I start in Nice and Marseille.

I email some of my contacts in those areas to see if any local festivities are going on in the next two months. It’s amazing how fast they reply. Of course they all ask the standard, “How are you?” I lie and say fine. I accept my old friend Javar Les’s offer to be my companion since he speaks six different languages. I also email Maya to arrange lunch. She replies immediately and asks me to meet her tomorrow in front of Abbot’s Habit on Abbot Kinney.
 

Time flies. It’s pretty late, but I’m starving. I sauté the thawed tuna steak with onions and spinach and put it on a whole-grain bun. Being alone in the house was easier before my trip to Chicago. To keep my mind occupied, I work as I eat. Two hours later, I take a quick shower and crawl into bed. I take deep breaths and force myself to think of nothing. Eventually it works, and I fall asleep.
 

The worst part of living in L.A. is the traffic. The best part of living in L.A. is being a native, which means I know how to navigate my way around the tough spots. One p.m. approaches, and freeway traffic is atrocious. After creeping south on Pacific Coast Highway, I exit onto Lincoln, which is fairly light considering the time of day. Other than a few speeding idiots, my drive is stress free. I park on Electric Avenue and meet Maya on the corner of Abbot Kinney and California Street.
 

I see her sitting outside the coffee shop under the green awning, tapping out a message on her cell phone. I haven’t seen Maya since after we loss Joella. Belmont believes she’s one person I should leave in my past. But Maya is the only person in the world who gets me.
 

When we saw each other last, she pleaded her case. “You didn’t love Adrian, Dais,” she said. “You never did. He’s the one for me. I’m the one for him.” She was as dramatic as an aspiring actress would be.
 

However, I had been forced to admit that she was right. It was a relief to share my true feelings with someone.

“I knew you couldn’t carry on forever for Jack,” Maya said. “He’s one of those guys who has specific tastes, and you’re it. And that includes your goddamn issues. I bet you were miserable while you were pregnant.”

I sighed. Only Maya could comprehend the depths of my despair. I poured out a lot of what I had been keeping inside over my Humble Indian curry bowl at Café Gratitude on Larchmont. Before parting ways that night, we’d made a promise to work harder to maintain our friendship, no matter what crazy things Maya did to fracture it.

Maya looks up when I make it to the corner. She sets her cell phone on the table, pulls her long, dusty blond locks over one shoulder, and waves. I wave back. The light turns green, and she stands as I cross the street. I’ve never seen Maya in something so loose-fitting, but she’s seven month’s pregnant with her and Adrian’s first child.