Tuesday 24 May

~ Daisy ~


I’d seen pictures of Nick Angel and knew him to be a sharp-faced man in his late forties, a shock of salt & pepper hair cascading onto his shoulders. This evening he had it tied back into an untidy pony tail, a leather bootlace holding it back. With his mirrored sunglasses, black leather trousers and biker jacket, he could have been a performer himself, instead of a legendary producer.

He was polite to me, asked me how I was enjoying New York, and then moved the conversation right back to people and places I’d never heard of.

Charlie was in a happy mood, judging by the lazy smile on his face and the way he draped his arm around the back of my chair. He’d greeted me with a big hug and kiss when I arrived. He reeked of alcohol and cannabis already and it was barely seven.

Nick leaned across the table to catch my attention. “We’re eating early as we’ve got a function later. At the studio. You’ll enjoy it.”

My hope for us escaping early slumped inside me. “Function?”

“The session musicians, a couple of journalists and some others in the biz. Good publicity for the album.” He turned away and raised his hand in a wave. “Here’s the rest of the group, for dinner.” Three anorexic blondes and two more musos. My cheeks ached already with the strain of my fake smiles.

Somehow, I limped through dinner, trying to speak in all the right places, and then through two endless hours at the studio. Normally I’d be excited to see where Charlie would be working for the next half a year, but tonight my insides were so knotted up that it took all my effort to keep a polite face. If I told him I didn’t want to get married, would he take that as a complete rejection? If we waited until his studio time was complete, and then married? We’d learn a lot about each other in six months together. Enough to see if we could make it a lifetime.

I played with my ring, twisting it back and forth. Perched on a stool in a quiet corner, I watched Charlie fooling around for the cameras. He kept glancing at me and smiling, as though checking I was still there. At one point, my phone chimed with a text. From Charlie. Huh?

A quick peek showed he was still behind the soundproof wall, guitar slung across his chest, and yes, his phone in his hand.

Go 2 the bathroom on yr left. Wait for me there. C x


No. I couldn’t.

My phone chimed again,


Go, go, go, GO!


He had mischief in mind, that was for sure. Nobody paid me any attention when I slid from my stool and walked to the bathroom. It was deserted. The face that stared back in the mirror was paler than usual, with puffy eyes from my tears earlier. Why did they have such bright lighting in these places? Every imperfection showed.

The door clicked open and I spun around. It was Charlie. With care he locked the door behind him. “Love these private bathrooms,” he said, his voice husky. “And I reckon we’ve got ten minutes before they wonder where I’ve gone.”

He swaggered across the tiled floor to me, his eyes glittering under the spotlights. “We can do a lot in ten minutes.”

My heart lurched. A combination of excitement and anxiety flooded my veins. I was filled with contradiction. I wanted one perfect night with Charlie. I’d never had sex in a public bathroom before. I squirmed at the thought, my panties damp already, and he read my face.

“Oh, baby.” He chuckled. “I’m gonna rock your world tonight.”

I stood with my back to the gleaming basins, my hands gripping the counter. What was he going to do? Did he want me to give him a blow job here? I glanced at the floor. It might appear to be spotless, but it was still a public bathroom, and I had bare legs.

Charlie wasn’t so concerned about the state of the floor. Reaching me he dropped to his knees and gazed up at me, a wicked smile curving his lips. “Hmm. What colour panties are you wearing? I can’t remember.” I opened my mouth and he held up one hand. “Don’t tell me.”

He slid his hands up my thighs, shimmying under the close fitting denim skirt, and nudging it up as he went. The breath caught in my throat. Charlie going down on me in a lingerie changing room had been decadent, but in the bathroom next to his studio, while his new colleagues all milled around…

“We shouldn’t,” I managed to whisper.

“Uh huh.” He leaned his head against my stomach and I wondered if he could hear it churning with excitement. “Black and lacy.” His calloused fingertips skated over the front of my panties and I bit back a moan. “I have magic fingers, you know.”

“Oh, God.” He had to feel how wet they were. His fingers pressed my clit and my knees trembled. If I hadn’t been holding onto the counter I would have slumped to the floor.

“Eight minutes left.” He tugged the lace and yanked my panties down to mid-thigh, then settled his face over my pussy. “Jeez. You’re sopping wet, Daisy. So good.” He gave a slow lick over my pussy lips and I had to shove one fist into my mouth. I couldn’t make a noise, They’d hear me. “Mmm. My favourite flavour.” He licked with a precision that I knew he’d perfected on hundreds of other girls. I couldn’t think about them now. Not while he was making me melt.

“Open your shirt and pull down that bra.” He blew on my clit and I whimpered. “No more until you show me your nipples, baby.”

“B-bossy,” I grumbled, but I loved him taking control like this. Absolutely adored it. Nothing made me hotter than the way Charlie spoke to me. I could forgive him almost anything.

“Seven minutes and I don’t see your nipples yet.”

With trembling hands I pulled my shirt open and folded down the bra cups. It made my large tits look enormous, but he hummed, a satisfied smile on his face. “So fucking pretty, Daisy. Now play with your nipples, and I’ll finish you off.”

He waited for me to move. My heart raced so hard I thought it would knock its way out of my chest. Already, I was teetering on the edge of a massive orgasm, just from this.

“Six minutes, gorgeous. I need to fuck you, so you’d better hurry, or they’ll come bursting in here and find me balls deep inside you.”

“The door’s locked.”

“When they hear you screaming my name, they’ll think you’re in trouble.” He nipped my inner thigh. “Pinch yourself, baby. I know you love it.”

He was right. I let my head fall back, and felt for both nipples, to pinch and tug, each pull sending an electric shock to my clit. At last, he licked me again and then closed his mouth around my sensitive little nub. I wailed, unable to keep quiet, and he groaned.

“Give it up, Daisy.” His stubbled cheek brushed my pussy lips and he sucked me again. Hard.

A wave of pleasure crashed into me, spots dancing before my eyes with the intensity of the climax. Charlie grabbed my hips and made sure I stayed upright, my entire body wracked with tremors.


“It’s Charlie, actually.” Strong hands scooped me up and positioned me on the edge of the counter. I grabbed at him for balance and clutched at his shoulders. “Four minutes left. It’s gonna be hard and fast.”

There wouldn’t be anything left of me. Helpless with desire, I watched as he tugged my panties to the floor, pushed my skirt even higher, and then unzipped his jeans. Within seconds he’d covered himself with a condom from his pocket, and he stood poised between my legs, dick in hand.

One push, and he filled me. Christ, I’d never get used to the sheer pleasure of Charlie making love to me. He furrowed his brow, his eyes half-closed. “Fuck, that feels good.” With a swivel of his pelvis he pulled back and then thrust hard. “Holy shit, Daisy. Hang on, baby.” He grabbed hold of my hips, and anchoring me in place, began to hammer in and out, each thrust punctuated with a groan.

I dug my hands into his shoulders, needing to hold something, for fear that I’d disintegrate. Another climax lurked, just out of reach, but when Charlie leaned forward and closed his mouth around one nipple, I exploded.

Charlie.” His name came out on a strangled cry. He grunted, pumped once more, then again, and then he groaned, long and loud.

My head lolled. I was weak and exhausted, with no control whatsoever of my limbs. Or my voice. I whispered his name, over and over.

“I’m here, gorgeous.” He claimed my lips, just as someone knocked on the bathroom door. “Damn,” he grumbled. “I thought we had another minute. I hadn’t finished with you yet.”

I knew I had a stupid grin on my face when I went back into the studio, but I was so insignificant that nobody commented on it, if they even noticed. I perched on my stool again and watched Charlie as he talked and laughed, played and sang, and enjoyed being the centre of attention.

I was still on a Charlie-induced-high when he told me we were heading to a club, and it wasn’t so bad. He stuck by my side, mostly, and we slow danced, with Charlie rubbing against my body like an overly affectionate cat. Any time I thought of our engagement, or the failed wedding plans, I shoved the thought to one side. There’d be time enough for that tomorrow.

The minute my head hit the pillow, my brain woke up. All the fears and insecurities I’d buried came rushing out, as though the darkness gave them permission to emerge. Charlie snored beside me, one hand possessively draped over my pussy. He’d made me come twice again with just his fingers, since returning to the hotel, and then made slow, sweet love to me, whispering my name like a mantra.

I tried to sort through the conflicting emotions. I loved Charlie. Was crazy about him. Yet I still felt unequal to the role of being his wife. The idea of a big wedding made me feel sick, but so did the prospect of telling him I didn’t want to marry after all.

Deep inside, I wanted to marry him. To become Mrs Daisy Jones. I just didn’t want the huge extravaganza that seemed to be mandatory in New York. I also wanted it on my terms, and not simply to fit around his schedule. To get it over with. Ugh, those horrid words kept spitting out on auto-repeat.

I hadn’t told him yet that I’d fired the planner. My burst of independence now seemed foolish. I couldn’t plan a wedding here. I know nothing about the city.

If I could have any kind of wedding at all, it would be small. Just me and Charlie, and my parents and sisters. Sylvie and AJ. Mick, the drummer for the band. Kate and Jordan from next door. The other friends I’d made since working for AJ. Charlie’s mum, of course.

Sleep was miles away, but morning was rushing up fast, and I still didn’t know what to do.


~ * ~


I practiced my speech inside my head. It was simple and eloquent. I’d be assertive, but dignified.

When I awoke to find Charlie kissing his way up my stomach, all my clever words vanished.

“Morning, gorgeous.” He pressed a searing open-mouthed kiss over my navel. “You out again today?”

“I fired her. The planner.” A giant lump materialised in my throat and choked any more words.

Charlie paused, his brows tugging together into a frown. “Eh? Why?”

“I don’t want to get married yet.” The words all ran together, and he looked even more puzzled.

“You don’t want to marry me?”

“Yes. But no. Not yet.”

He lifted his head, and then leaned back against the pillow. Just the sight of him, sleepy and scruffy, his hair sticking up in random directions, made me weak with desire. Why had I spoken? I should have kept my mouth shut.

Charlie scratched the back of his neck, and yawned. “I’m going to be busy for six months. No time for a honeymoon, or even a long weekend off. Why d’you want to wait all of a sudden?”

It was now or never. I tugged the sheet up to my neck. “I want us to take our time and get married when we’re ready.”

“I am ready.”

“It’s a wedding, Charlie. A celebration. You should want it. It shouldn’t be something you have to suffer, like a dentist appointment.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

I sought my words with care. “When I asked you why you wanted to get married so quickly, you said you wanted to get it over with.”

“Yeah. And?”

I shrugged, unable to speak. He really didn’t understand.

Charlie tugged at the edge of the sheet and pulled it down to expose my breasts. “I want to marry you, Daisy. I don’t want to wait. I want to show the world how much I love you. Give you some security. God knows, I’ve been an asshole to you, and I don’t want you to think I’m going to dick you about. I want time to honeymoon with you. Go somewhere exotic, just you and me and a giant fucking box of condoms. That’s why I don’t want to wait.”

Stupid tears welled in my eyes. It was me that was being the asshole. There was still one hurdle to cross, though. “I don’t want a big wedding. That’s why I fired Tia. Her version of small is five hundred guests. I can’t handle that, Charlie. I’m not sure I can cope with fifty.”

His gaze never left my face. Slowly, he extended a hand and took mine, tangling our fingers together. “When you were a little girl, did you ever daydream about eloping?”

I let out my breath with a whoosh. “Yes, sometimes. Why?”

“How d’you feel about Vegas? We can get married by Elvis, or Marilyn Monroe, or even the Easter fucking bunny if we pay enough.” He kissed my knuckles. “And then we’ll invite everyone for a party. How does that sound?”

Tears leaked freely from my eyes. My heart swelled so much, it hurt my chest.

“Aww, Daisy. Don’t cry, baby. I don’t care where or when, I just want to make you happy. And make you mine. That’s really important too.”

I flung my arms around his neck and buried my face in his hair. “I’m crying because I’m happy, you chump. Vegas sounds perfect. Thank you.”


~ * ~


Elvis was fantastic. I giggled all through the short ceremony and thought that was appropriate. I wanted a marriage filled with love and laughter, and it was certainly starting out that way. The little Caribbean beach where we honeymooned was private, and when we flew back into New York, the week after, I was absurdly chilled out.

Charlie had written no fewer than three songs while we were away, all based around me, and how happy I made him. The feeling was mutual.

I didn’t think anything could make me happier, but then he told me what he was calling his album. To Have and to Hold—a line from our wedding vows.

“As long as I’m holding you, Daisy, I’m good.” He kissed me hard on the lips, right in front of everyone in the studio. It was a delicious, toe-curling kiss, and I didn’t want to let him go. It would only be for a few hours, and we might break it up with another bathroom rendezvous, but even if I had to wait I didn’t mind.

Charlie Jones was mine, and I was in heaven.



The end