The Wingman (Alpha Men 1)

She looked so peaceful, he didn’t want to disturb her, but as the minutes ticked over and their bodies cooled, he sighed and regretfully conceded to the inevitable.

“Daisy,” he singsonged softly into her ear and smiled when her forehead puckered slightly. “Daaaisy.”

“Hmm?” Grumpy girl. Clearly early mornings weren’t the only times she hated having her sleep interrupted.

“Come on, angel. Open your eyes.” A deep sigh and another moan.

“Wha—?”

“It’s time to get cleaned up,” he told her and watched as awareness returned to her eyes. She went bright pink as her natural shyness inserted itself firmly between them. Understanding that this was all a bit overwhelming for her, he dropped a kiss on the tip of her delightfully freckled nose and eased away from her, allowing her the space she needed.

“You can have the bathroom first,” he said, and she dragged a pillow to her chest and slid off the bed, keeping the cushion firmly in front of her but completely unaware of the fact that the full-length mirror behind her showcased her smooth, naked back, nipped-in waist, and generous bum and thighs to perfection. Her tiny little pink panties rode low on her hips, low enough to just tease a glimpse of the shadowy cleft between the delightful mounds of her behind.

“I won’t be long,” she promised, keeping her eyes downcast, which was probably a good thing because he was hard as a steel pipe again and not doing a damned thing to hide that fact. He wanted her, and she would have to adapt to that fact very quickly because he was done retreating. He would deal with the fallout if it meant having her in his bed for however long this lasted.

CHAPTER TEN

Daisy sagged against the bathroom door and took a deep breath before dropping the pillow and shakily making her way to the sink. She was a mess, literally and figuratively. She couldn’t quite believe what had just happened. And she couldn’t bring herself to regret it at all. This was all new to her, and she figured Mason would be a phenomenal teacher. But that didn’t mean years of shyness and awkwardness around the opposite sex would simply disappear after one—admittedly amazing—sexual experience with the guy.

“Just go with it, Daisy,” she whispered, as she stared at her reflection in the mirror above the basin. “Enjoy it while it lasts.”

She took a long shower, her nerve endings still alive with sensation, her body feeling completely alien to her. Throbbing and sensitive and ready. After she got out of the shower, she dropped the towel and stared at herself in the full-length mirror next to the huge tub. It wasn’t something she usually did. She tended to avoid looking at her naked body, hating every pound of extra fat, every bit of jiggle, any hint of cellulite . . . but now she wanted to see. Wanted to inspect and list the so-called imperfections. This body, which she had practically despised for so many years, had just given her more pleasure than she had ever believed possible.

She looked at the thighs, too round, too plump . . . without any gap at all between them, the tummy—not flat and abtastic, instead soft and rounded—but not as hideous as she had once thought. Her breasts—she reached up to cup one and hissed when the sensitive nipple immediately tightened in her palm—they weren’t perfect little apples; they were big, round, and overt. Her nipples were positioned high and gave a false impression of pertness, but the mounds themselves were bottom heavy and sloped gently down into a full curve.

She saw it all and automatically cataloged each and every flaw and then stopped and realized that Mason had seen all of this too, in a brightly lit room. He hadn’t seen any flaws; he had seen a desirable woman. The woman in the mirror wasn’t perfect, but she was . . . okay. She was somewhat ordinary with her curly brown hair, her freckles, and her pale skin; she had curves, and maybe they were a little fuller than was currently acceptable, but they emphasized her waist and gave her a pretty decent hourglass shape. She had cellulite, a double chin, and too much junk in the trunk, but right now she looked vibrant, happy, and even a little sexy.

“Is this a private party or can anyone join?” She jumped guiltily and looked to where Mason stood framed in the doorway, watching her watch herself.

He had on a fresh pair of briefs and that was all he wore. He came to stand behind her and eyed her reflection in the mirror. There was nothing but sincere appreciation and desire in his gaze. He was so tall her head only reached his chest; he wrapped his strong, hard arms around her and spread one hand over her stomach and the other replaced her hand at her breast. His dark skin contrasted starkly with her paleness, but the most striking thing about the way they looked together was that he made her seem tiny.