For all Daisy knew, he’d been awake all along, but when his fingers tangled in her hair, her name on his lips, she knew he was all the way awake.

She turned her head just slightly so out of the corner of her eye, she could look up his body with his cock still in her mouth. His eyes were hazy with sleep and desire as he lifted his hips, pushing himself deeper.

Daisy sucked harder, her tongue rolling over him, and he let out a tortured groan.

The hand not gripping her hair skimmed over her back, down over her backside until his fingers brushed against the damp front of her underwear. His nimble long fingers snuck under the elastic, and Daisy moaned around him as he slicked a finger into her from behind.

It was a delicious challenge, trying not to let his stroking fingers distract her from what she’d started. It shifted into a sexually charged game, a race to see who could bring the other to completion first.

And though his fingers were skilled as they tortured her, she’d had a head start. She felt a thrill of victory as he tensed beneath her.

Daisy moved her mouth faster as his fingers tightened in her hair, his other hand pulling out of her underwear to grasp her butt, his fingers digging desperately into the flesh as he exploded with her mouth in a low roar.

She waited until he’d stilled before pulling away and sitting back on her heels.

He was gazing at her with a look of exasperation and affection. “Proud of yourself, are you?”

Daisy couldn’t help the grin. “I won.”

“Wasn’t a game.”

“Says the guy who lost.”

In a second he had her flat on her back in the middle of the bed; in the next he’d ripped her panties aside and maneuvered his big body between her legs, his mouth covering her warm core in an intimate kiss.

He looked up her body as he licked, the flick of his tongue wicked and relentless as he lapped at her clit. Daisy’s hands came down to his head, the combination of his early fingering, the thrill of her seduction, and the wet touch of his tongue sending her over the edge in under a minute.

Lincoln held her against his mouth as she bucked in helpless waves of pleasure, releasing her only when the last shock wave had dissipated.

When she opened her eyes, he was smiling down at her. Daisy gave him a look. “Now who’s gloating?”

“That’s one game I’m happy to take second place in,” he said with a wink, before kissing her nose, and rolling off her and planting his feet on the floor.

“Where are you going?” Daisy asked, watching as he went to the dresser and pulled on a pair of athletic shorts and a T-shirt.

“You cook breakfast for me when I stay over. I thought I’d go pick up something when you stay over.”

“Yeah, because that’s an even trade,” she said with a smile.

“Hold that sass until you taste this croissant with egg and Gruyère sandwich from around the street,” he said, pointing a warning finger at her. “It’ll blow your mind.”

“I thought you just did that.”

“Cheeky this morning,” he said as he headed out into the living room. “I like that.”

“Does Kiwi need to go out?” she called after him.

“She’d love you forever if you took her,” Lincoln called back. “Extra keys by the door for you to get back in.”

The front door slammed, and Daisy leaned over the side of the bed to pet Kiwi. “You’ll love me forever if I take you for a walk, huh? Any ideas on what it would take to make your daddy love me forever?”

The little dog looked up at her with sympathetic brown eyes.

“Yeah, I didn’t think so,” Daisy said with a sigh. “Come on then. Let’s go get our hair all pretty before we face the world, hmm?”

Five minutes later, Daisy’s teeth were brushed, her hair was pulled into a reasonably tidy low bun, Kiwi was wearing a green bow to match her namesake, and Daisy was clipping on the dog’s leash.

“You know, normally I have full respect for basic black, but I’m not feeling this black nylon leash for you,” Daisy told the dog.

She suspected that as much as Lincoln loved his sugary drinks and flirting, he drew the line about walking around Manhattan with a pink leash. But Daisy was betting she could talk him into a nice, non-gender-specific lime green.

They walked around the block, Kiwi doing her business immediately before slowing her pace and sniffing every leaf and fire hydrant. Daisy didn’t mind. It was a gorgeous morning, early enough on a Sunday so she felt she had the city to herself.

New York was growing on her. Not that she’d ever disliked it, but there was a huge difference between tourist and resident when it came to NYC. It was almost like a veil lifted as soon as you changed your mailing address, and you saw the city as it really was—somehow both humbling and spectacular.

For most of the walk, Daisy had been the one leading while Kiwi hung back, peeing on discarded hot dog wrappers, but as they approached Lincoln’s building, the little dog gave a happy bark and charged forward.

Since the dog wasn’t particularly fond of strangers, Daisy looked up with a smile, expecting to see Lincoln back with breakfast.

Her smile froze.

It wasn’t Lincoln’s shins that Daisy was jumping all over. It wasn’t Lincoln who let out a delighted gasp before bending down to pick up the squirming dog and showering her with unabashed kisses.

It was Brenda Lyons.

That’s why Kiwi knew the woman. It was Katie’s mom. If dogs had grandmas, this was hers, and oh God.