The Wingman (Alpha Men 1)

“What fantasy?”

“The, uh . . . the navy thing. You know?” Shut up, Daisy, her inner voice shrieked, shut up!

“What does this navy fantasy guy wind up doing to you exactly?”

“Nothing.” She shifted uncomfortably.

“So he just stands around doing nothing? Lame.”

“I just think it’s a flattering uniform, that’s all,” she said, trying to insert some firmness into her voice and take command of this crazy conversation.

“I could borrow a buddy’s navy whites,” he suggested with a wicked grin. “And wear them for you. But I’ll probably do a hell of a lot more than merely stand around modeling it.”

Don’t ask!

“Like what?” Crap!

“I’ll probably start with a sloooooow strip tease.” Daisy was captivated by his eyes; they were staring into hers with scorching intensity, and she was finding it hard to breathe. Her mouth was bone dry, and she took another desperate gulp from her glass.

“I’m surprised you’d know how to do that,” she croaked. Why wasn’t she putting a stop to this conversation? It was unlike any other discussion she had ever had in her life, and she wasn’t sure if she wanted it to continue or end.

“What? A striptease? I’ve seen it done enough times. It seems pretty easy. Put on some sexy music, do a hip-swaying, raunchy dance, and strip. But make it last, build anticipation . . . reveal only a tiny”—his hand drifted to the top button of his Henley and popped it—“sliver”—another button.

Daisy’s eyes were fixed on the smooth, tanned skin peeking through the tiny V he had created at the base of his throat, and she swallowed heavily. Her breath came in rapid pants while her entire body felt as if it was on fire.

“Of skin”—another button. How could a man’s throat be so sexy? Oh God, she could see his clavicles now. She wanted to run her tongue over them. They looked so strong and masculine. What was happening to her?

“At a time”—a fourth button slid free of its hole to reveal the tiniest portion of his chest. She could see the slightest sprinkle of light-brown hair, and she absolutely ached to run her hand over the silky-looking stuff, to feel the velvety texture of his glorious skin beneath the palm of his hand. She ran her tongue over her dry lips and swallowed again.

“You okay, Daisy? You’re looking a bit flushed.” His hands dropped back to the table, and Daisy stifled a groan when she realized that the impromptu little demo was over. She glared at him; he had done that deliberately, the bastard. He had known exactly how he was affecting her and had teased her mercilessly nonetheless. Daisy didn’t know what game he was playing with her, but she didn’t like it.

“It’s a little hot in here, that’s all,” she lied, and he allowed the untruth to go unchallenged, merely nodded his acceptance.

“It is a bit uncomfortable,” he said agreeably.

CHAPTER FIVE

Mason felt like a bastard. Why had he done that? He couldn’t explain his motivation even to himself. All he knew was that he enjoyed teasing her and that he had pushed them both way too far with that stupid little strip show. Her pupils were still huge, only a sliver of gray rimmed them; her breath came in huffs; her hands were trembling; and she still had that delicious rosy flush highlighting her cheeks. God, she was sexy when she was turned on, and all Mason wanted was to get her someplace private and fuck her senseless. But if ever a chick had “complicated” stamped all over her, it was this one, and Mason knew that any sex with her would come with way too much baggage, and he sure as hell didn’t want her enough to have to deal with any emotional crap.

He preferred quick, easy, and uncomplicated, but the Daisy McGregors of the world wanted hearts and flowers and commitment—he shuddered discreetly at the thought—with their sex. Best to steer clear. He’d be better off going to a woman like that Shar bitch for his sex. A shame she left him cold.

Still, he hadn’t had more than one hookup since getting back from London, and that had been nearly eight months ago. Jerking off was getting old, and he figured he was way overdue for some fun between the sheets with a pretty, flirty thing who wouldn’t expect much more than a roll in the hay from him.

Sadly, because Riversend was so small, he’d have to venture further afield for his sex. God knew he didn’t want the whole town knowing whom he fucked. That was the one drawback of being home, everybody knew everyone else’s business. He had to ask Spencer where the prime pickup spots were around these parts.

He cleared his throat and tried to regroup his thoughts and felt like a total shit all over again when he glanced over at Daisy and saw that she was having a hard time meeting his eyes.