Daisy Does It All (Clover Park, Book 2) Contemporary Romance (The Clover Park Series) (17 page)

Several minutes later, Daisy walked into the bedroom. He bit back a laugh as she approached the bed. She wore Gran’s flannel nightgown, which ended at her knees, rollers in her hair, and a shower cap. This woman killed him.

He caught her smug smile before she turned off the light and slid into bed.

He reached for her in the dark. “Gran?”

She giggled.

“Oh, Gran, you turn me on so much.” He rubbed his hands up and down her back. “Is this one hundred percent flannel?”

Another burst of giggles. She buried her head in his chest, shaking with laughter, obviously trying to keep the volume down with their guests.

“Your shower cap is so smooth on my chin.”

She smacked his chest. “Stop,” she wheezed.

“You’re the one that dressed for the occasion. If I’d known, I would’ve put on the yellow ruffly robe.”

They cracked up. They’d seen, on more than one occasion, Jorge hanging out late in the morning in Gran’s ruffled robe.

He stroked her back until the laughter subsided. She lifted her chin and looked up at him through the dim light from the moonlight filtering in the window. She was so damn beautiful even in a shower cap.

“I think a marriage with laughter is the best kind,” he said. “It’ll be good, Daze. I know you have doubts about us, but it’ll be good.”

She surprised him by putting her hand on his cheek. “You’re a good man.”

“Yes.”

She giggled. “Yes?”

“You’re good too, woman.”

“Kiss me.”

He cupped her cheek, his hand hitting shower cap and rollers, and met her lips in a gentle kiss. She returned it enthusiastically, her tongue delving into his mouth. That hit him like a lit firecracker. The kiss turned hot as his hands ran up and down her curves, stopping to linger at her breasts, caressing them through the flannel. Geez, the flannel. He had to get this stuff off her.

He nudged her onto her back and slipped the cap from her head. He pulled back to slowly undo each roller, watching her golden hair drop, piece by piece, into a golden wave across the pillow. Just like he’d imagined.

“You’re so beautiful, Daze.”

“So are you.”

He grinned. “I know.”

She laughed, and he kissed that smiling mouth, his hand running through her silky hair. Her hands ran over his bare back, and he couldn’t wait to get her out of that flannel, to feel skin on skin.
Slow
. He nibbled and licked his way down her neck, and she tilted her head to give him better access. He inhaled her citrusy scent, his hand slowly working up the flannel nightgown. She pushed it back down.

He kissed her some more, coaxing her in the best way he knew how, with long, slow, deep kisses. She moaned. Now her hands were running over him everywhere, which he took as a go. Slowly, he worked his hand back down to the hem of her nightgown.

She tore her mouth from his. “Trav, this is a bad idea.”

“It’s a very good idea.”

“I promised myself I wouldn’t have sex again until I got to know the person.”

He nibbled on her ear, ran his tongue around the shell, and blew gently over it. “You do know me.”

“Not that much. We never went on a date or anything.”

He stifled a groan. Like he could take her on a date now.
Slow. Patience
. He felt like a horny teenager begging for it.

“What do you want to know?” he asked. “I’ll tell you anything.” He couldn’t stop touching her. He stroked her hair and kissed her temple, her jaw, her throat, her collarbone. She tasted so good.

She was quiet.

He looked up. “Daze?”

Her eyes were closed. “Hmmm…” she murmured, not seeming too worried about their getting-to-know-you date.

He took advantage of that, returning to that luscious mouth and taking his fill. She moaned again.

He slipped a hand under the gown and slid it up her inner thigh, massaging her over a tiny scrap of panty. She was hot and wet. He groaned and pulled back to work off the flannel nightgown.

She wore only a pink thong. He just about lost it right there.

“That’s no granny panties,” he quipped.

She giggled. “Nope.”

He pulled her close so they lay facing each other, skin on skin, and kissed her again, pushing his leg between hers, pressing at her center. Her nails were running up and down his back, making him crazy. He pulled back just enough to caress her breast, pinching a nipple. He jolted in surprise as something wet hit him. Milk had come out.

Her hand flew to her breast.

He laughed. “I milked you like a cow.”

She scowled, rolled away, and gave him her back.

Shit
.

~ ~ ~

Daisy was so embarrassed. Just add this to the long list of things she’d written about in rapturous terms on her blog that couldn’t compare to her reality.

Trav curled up behind her and brushed her hair back. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“No, you’re right. I am like a cow. Moo. Just one more way my blog bites me in the ass. Post-baby sex sucks.”

“I wouldn’t say sucks.” He rested his hand across her stomach, and she immediately sucked in her gut.

She lay there fuming, embarrassed, and so freaking tired. Where was that damn nightgown? She sat up, groped blindly for it over the covers, got really cold, and lay down again.
Dammit
. She didn’t want to spend the night naked with this irritating man.

He
laughed
at her.

“Can you get that nightgown?” she asked.

“No.”

She debated getting out of bed to fetch it from wherever he’d tossed it, but it was so cold out of the covers, and it was really warm lying like this with Trav holding her. His chest warmed her back, his legs tucked against hers. She could do without the hard rod jabbing into her hip, but they were practically naked.

She exhaled sharply. “I just want to sleep.”

“Me too.”

A beat passed. His hand crept upward.

“Don’t touch my breasts.”

His hand stilled.

They lay there quietly in the dark. She took a deep breath, starting to relax again. His hand crept downward. She stilled.

“Pretend I’m not here,” he told her.

She giggled.

His hand crept a little lower.

A little lower.

She held her breath.

That’s the spot
. She sighed. His fingers stroked and made lazy circles. He really did have magic fingers.

His voice rumbled low in her ear. “Open your legs.”

A tremor ran through her. She opened for him, and he took full advantage. His fingers became more demanding, massaging and circling her center, slipping inside her. She bucked, unable to stay still under the onslaught of sensation.

He just kept going, steady, relentless, pushing her closer and closer to the brink. She fought to keep from moaning out loud, moving now automatically with his hand, instinctively seeking more of his touch. She broke in a surge of sensation, crying out and shuddering against him. He slowed his hand, but didn’t stop, letting her ride out every wave of pleasure. Finally she quieted, rolled to her back, and reached for him.

He smiled down at her.

She smiled back. “You’re still here.”

He kissed her tenderly. “I am.”

She peeled off her thong, and he stripped off his briefs. He reached to the floor and snagged a condom. He must have stashed one in his jeans earlier. She had no time to decide if she was mad or thankful for that presumption because then he was back, pressing slowly inside her. Oh. My. God. It had been so damn long. And he was so thick and hot and hard.

She moaned, and he slid an inch further.

She bucked her hips, urging him on. He didn’t move.

“Trav, you’re making me crazy.”

“That’s the idea.” He slid in a little more, but not enough. Not nearly enough.

“Please.” She grabbed his ass and pulled. He slid an inch and stopped.

“I told you I’d make you beg.”

“Don’t fuck with a sex-deprived woman.” She wrapped her legs tight around him and pulled hard. That got him moving.

“That’s the perfect woman to fuck with,” he croaked.

She closed her eyes as they moved in a slow and steady rhythm, feeling the sensation build deliciously again. His lips met hers, his tongue thrusting in her mouth, matching the thrusts of his body.

She broke the kiss. “Faster,” she told him, digging her nails into his back.

“There’s no rush,” he told her, moving at his slow and steady pace.

He was making her crazed. She squeezed him internally as he thrust in, bringing them both intense pleasure. He groaned and slowly pulled out. She kept it up, watching him, the strain on his face from holding back, until he suddenly pumped hard and fast, just like she liked it. She hung on tight; moments later, she shuddered again, and he let go with her.

They lay there, panting, Trav still plastered on top of her.

“That didn’t suck,” she told him.

He groaned next to her ear.

She laughed.

Chapter Sixteen

Three a.m. came early, bringing with it Bryce’s wail, but Trav didn’t care that he had nighttime baby duty. It was all worth it for that night with Daisy. He tiptoed down the hallway and couldn’t help the goofy grin that spread across his face. Now
that
was a night he’d remember. No question that marrying Daisy was the right decision.

He slipped into Shane’s room, passed his snoring brother, and scooped up Bryce. “Let’s go,” he whispered.

He brought Bryce back to Daisy. She nursed him, half asleep, propped up on some pillows, and handed him back. “You have to burp him before you put him to bed,” she said before she flopped back under the blankets.

He patted Bryce’s back as he paced the hallway, hoping the boy kept it quiet. He glanced at the closed bedroom doors. He just had to get rid of husband number one, and he and Daisy would be golden.

A few minutes later, Bryce burped, and Trav settled him back in his crib. He shut the door quietly behind him and headed back to Daisy. If he didn’t know she was already so exhausted, he’d wake her for round two. Instead, he slipped under the covers and tucked her against his side, breathing in the scent of Daisy and sex, a potent combination. Things were finally on track for them, he thought just before he fell asleep.

Only a few hours later, as the sun began to rise, Trav slipped out of bed, knowing he had to get to work clearing out the snow. Daisy slept soundly, curled on her side. He grabbed the flannel nightgown from the floor and stuck it on the nightstand in front of her so she wouldn’t be cold when she got up. Even with the lack of sleep, he was practically whistling as he headed downstairs. He couldn’t wait to have Daisy again. It had been good. Better than good. Fucking phenomenal. He was a lucky man.

He stopped in the living room, where Rico was sleeping sprawled on the floor, one arm and leg sticking out of the blanket. He nudged him with his foot. “Wake up.”

Rico turned the other way.

Trav walked to his other side, squatted down, and sang in his friend’s ear in a near perfect impersonation of Rico’s mom. “Ri-co,
mallorcas
for breakfast.”

Rico’s eyes flew open. Seeing Trav, he groaned and gave him a shove, knocking him off his haunches. “You suck. I haven’t had good
mallorca
since I left Jersey. Whadda ya want?”

Trav chuckled. Mrs. del Toro liked to buy fresh
mallorcas
, a sweet bread pastry topped with confectioner’s sugar, every weekend. Least she used to before she moved back to Puerto Rico.

“Get up,” Trav said. “We’ve got plowing to do.”

Rico pushed to a sitting position and scrubbed a hand over his face.

“Looks like you didn’t get your beauty sleep.”

Rico eyed him. “What are you so fucking cheerful about? What time is it, six?”

“Six thirty.” He grinned. “And I’m just happy to see you.”

“Yeah, right.” Rico pushed a hand through his hair. “Wait a minute, I know that face. You got laid.”

Trav just smiled.

Rico stood and stretched. “I told you if you backed off, she’d come to you.”

Trav stood and smiled to himself. He helped her along, but, yeah, she came all right.

Rico lowered his voice and glanced toward the stairs. “Jessica paid me a visit in the middle of the night.”

Trav raised a brow. “Yeah, how was that?”

His friend shook his head. “She’s wearing that dress, commando. Then she lifts her dress to show me her bare ass, tells me she’s a very bad girl, and asks me to spank her.”

Trav barked out a laugh of surprise.

“Shhhh!”

“What’d you do?”

“You know I could never hit a woman.”

Trav knew it. That’s why it was so funny. He could just imagine the look on Rico’s face.

They headed to the front door and put their boots on.

“Even if a woman
asked
me to,” Rico added. “You know my dear, sweet mama would stretch her arm all the way from Puerto Rico and smack me upside the head if I raised a hand to a woman.”

“You’re a mama’s boy.”

“Proud of it.”

They grabbed their coats and gear and headed across the street for his work truck.

“So now that you gave Daisy the milk, she’ll want to buy the cow,” Rico said. “Make an honest man out of you.”

Trav choked on a laugh. The cow had almost killed the whole thing last night.

“Let’s hope so,” Trav managed.

They plowed his and Gran’s driveway and dropped rock salt down to prevent ice from forming. Then they cleared the way down Catoonah Street, Elm Street, and onto Park Ave, where Ry lived. Main Street would be cleared by the town early this morning. He cleared Ry’s driveway, and then he and Rico got out and shoveled the sidewalk, tossing down some rock salt. They made their way to their clients in town, stopping for a few elderly people who weren’t clients but needed to be able to get out in case of emergency.

He circled back around to Ry’s house and stopped to check in. Liz had hot coffee and warm blueberry muffins waiting for them in the kitchen.

“You need any help with the emergency shelter?” Trav asked. He knew Ry would help out Chief Bailey with the town’s shelter at the high school and, as soon as he could, get over to Fieldridge, where he was a cop, and help out there too.