Twelve
T he almost-full moon was high above them. Poppy held his hand as they walked back to their Airbnb. Singing and dancing around him when they got back, she led him out into the back garden. She was charged with the energy of the moon in a way that was contagious. This woman. This Poppy. Nothing existed but this moment as she wrapped herself around him.
Her hands looped together at the small of his back as she swayed back and forth, singing under her breath, swaying in the moonlight.
Holding her always made him feel like things were going to work out.
Sure, they were divorced, but he still had a hard time thinking of her as anything but his. Even with the years they’d been apart, he hadn’t forgotten how she felt when she was this close. She smelled of the summer night and sun and magic. A heady scent that was foreign to him.
The warmth of her mouth on the side of his neck sent a shiver straight to his groin. His hands tightened on her hips as he gazed down into her eyes. Her lips were parted. He groaned.
How was he supposed to resist the temptation of Poppy?
“Pop, we said platonic,” he reminded her as he drew his finger along the top edge of her sarong. It was knotted on her left side, and the tiniest bit of bare skin peeked out where her T-shirt didn’t quite meet the top of it.
Her skin was so soft and smooth, addictive, like everything else about this woman. One kiss wouldn’t be enough, one touch, one fuck. She was fire. In his bloodstream, in his body, in his brain.
“We did...” she said as his hands settled on her waist, and hers around his neck. She leaned back so that they could really look at each other. “Would it be so bad if we changed our minds?”
His dick jumped and hardened as his mind raced to plan for all eventualities. He was still keeping things from her. She probably was doing the same. They were both trying so hard to make things right this time, fighting against anything that could mess up these new feelings and the connection that was slowly taking root and growing between them.
God, he didn’t want to let her go.
He wanted this for himself. Poppy, just for him, with no external pressures. Whatever happened with the company and his dad and George had no bearing on this moment.
“I can’t think of a single reason why we shouldn’t,” he said against her lips.
She rubbed his lower lip with her tongue and then sucked it into her mouth.
Any chance of a rational argument disappeared. There was just Poppy, him and the moon. Tonight, these were the only things that mattered, and he wasn’t going to let her slip away.
“Me either,” she whispered against him. “You’re not going to stop us like you did the other night, are you?”
“Even if I wanted to, I don’t think I could. I need you.”
“You do?” she asked playfully, drawing him farther into the yard.
The spill of amber light from the house and the silvery shine from the moon kept the darkness at bay. The summer air was rife with brambleberries and a rich, earthy scent, which stirred that primitive part of him.
He lifted her off her feet, and she undid the knot at her side as she wrapped her legs around his hips. Cupping her butt with his hands, he stroked her through her thin cotton panties. She deepened the kiss, her breasts pressing against his chest.
Tearing his mouth from hers, he glanced around the yard. There was a picnic table. Bending over, he scooped up her scarf as he continued to hold her.
“I love your strength,” she said.
“You do?”
“Yes. All these muscles and the power... You always were so strong physically.”
“Is that a compliment?” he asked.
“Of course,” she said. “Will you get naked for me?”
“I was planning to.”
“I don’t mean just the sex parts,” she said as he set her on her feet next to the table.
She whipped her shirt over her head and tossed it on one of the chairs, standing next to him in a plain cotton bra and knickers.
“Ladies first,” he said, but only because he knew that the moment he was naked, he’d be on her, and he wasn’t going to come up for air until he was buried hilt deep in her.
She shook her head, her curls bouncing around her shoulders as she reached behind her back. A moment later, the cups fell away, and she shrugged out of the bra, drawing it slowly down her body. “Now you.”
He almost ripped his T-shirt in his hurry to get it off, tossing it behind him, his eyes on her body as her hands roamed over him. Her fingers moving along his chest, his pecs. She took her time exploring him, as if it was the first she’d seen of him.
He’d gotten a new tattoo since the last time they were naked together. He noticed that she still had her belly-button ring and that freckle cluster under her left rib. Had anyone else discovered these beautiful secrets since then?
She traced the tattoo over and looked up at him. “Why this?”
A broken teacup hidden in the Celtic symbol for rebirth. To him, it was his break from the family. The start of his own path, and a reminder that he wasn’t whole. That there was an emptiness that he was always trying to fill. That anger and arrogance wouldn’t fill it.
“To remind myself that I’m not Lancaster-Spencer,” he said.
“Good. I’m glad,” she said, then she traced the tattoo that was over his heart with her tongue. Her hair brushed against his skin, and he groaned, realizing that he might not need to have his pants off to lose control.
A broken bad boy. Almost like Alistair knew that was the one thing she couldn’t resist. He’d probably never thought of himself that way, at least not until whatever had happened at Lancaster-Spencer, but she’d always secretly seen him as such. That rich man-boy that everyone tried cultivating a friendship with. The one who wanted for nothing, who seemed to have a path to success just because of his pedigree. But she’d always seen past that.
Which was why it had been so much easier to get over him when they were in separate countries.
Tonight, on the walk up the Tor, the wariness she’d kept between them as a shield had floated away on the breeze. There was no going back. Right now, there wasn’t a situation she could conceive of in which she’d need it. Not any longer.
His skin was warm and tasted of salt and sweat. That sandalwood scent that he’d put on earlier was stronger here. She rubbed her nose in it as she closed her eyes, creating this memory for herself. It had been so long since they’d actually slept together. The other night had whetted her appetite for him. Ha. As if there had been a time when she hadn’t wanted him.
His hand was on the back of her neck, fingers kneading and massaging. Stepping back, he slid both hands down her neck to her shoulders, then paused to cup her breasts.
“You’re so beautiful. Even more so in the moonlight. It’s like... Never mind, I’ll sound an idiot,” he cut himself off.
“Say it, I’m not going to judge you.”
It was as if he wanted to speak but couldn’t make himself.
Wrapping her hand around his bicep. “I love how strong your arms are, and when you held me in front of your house, it made me wet just thinking about them.”
He canted his head to the side, lifted both eyebrows and then flexed both arms.
She made a purring sound. Physically, Alistair ticked all of her boxes. She didn’t care if it was clichéd that the quiet, quirky girl was attracted to the bad boy. That was just the way she’d always been.
Well, maybe just with him.
“So?”
“Ah, in the moonlight, you shine, Poppy. There is something ethereal about you, and it’s almost like if I touch you, you’ll disappear.”
“I won’t,” she promised him, taking his hand in hers and putting it on her waist. “See?”
He flushed. It was easy to read that confessing that wasn’t something he was comfortable with, but she liked hearing it. Liked knowing that there was something about her that he couldn’t resist. He’d always had some kind of sway over her.
That was something she wasn’t ready to delve into tonight. She wanted this moonlit hookup. The moon had listened to her fears from the moment he’d sent that message asking her to pretend they were still married. Stirring all the desires and emotions she’d been happily ignoring since their divorce became final.
But here she was, and tonight, on the eve of the moon of horses, when she should be letting go...she wanted to hold tight. One night to see if he was going to be relegated to the past or if he was going to be part of her future.
She held all the cards this time.
She undid his shorts. They dropped to the ground, and he shoved his underwear down after them.
Her breath caught in her chest. He was turned on, thick and hard from watching her. His big, muscled body made her fingers tingle to touch him all over. Taking his shaft in her hand, she stroked him up and down, swirling her finger over the tip.
She was vaguely aware of his fingers in her underwear before she felt the coolness of the night air against her nakedness. His mouth was on her neck, biting and sucking, making her realize that she had been transfixed by him.
He was the one with the magic power where she was concerned.
But the moon was giving her strength, feminine and uniquely hers. So she took what she wanted, gliding her hands up his chest, then back down. Caressing and teasing his nipples, she drew him toward her, then she gently but firmly gripped his dick until the table was at her back.
He lifted her up onto the surface. She felt the softness of her sarong against her ass; he’d laid it across the table. Her knees fell open, and he stepped between them, his fingers moving over her nipples as she rubbed her clit with his erection.
His other hand tightened on her waist, then he leaned down until their foreheads were pressed together. The words that he spoke were low, harsh, dark and sexual, sending heat through her until she was wet and ready for him.
“I’m going to fuck you until we are both too exhausted to move,” he said against her exposed skin. He had one hand braced next to her on the table as he leaned over. His mouth was everywhere, starting at the center of her chest and moving down, his tongue twirling around her belly-button ring and then lower.
The heat of his breath covered her, and then his mouth was on her. She screamed and came as soon as he flicked his tongue against her clit.
But he didn’t stop. Alistair kept eating her out until she felt everything building again. Her thighs tightened around his head as he shoved two fingers inside of her, pushing on just right spot. The moon sparkled over her head, and the stars seemed to be shooting from the sky as she rocketed to an orgasm that almost made her pass out.
He shifted around, his mouth on her belly, as she reached for his cock, needing him inside of her now.
“Take me,” she said breathlessly.
Take her. There was nothing that would stop him. Not tonight. Last night had tested his limits. Today things had changed.
His emotions, which were always right on the edge of exploding, felt...tamer. The ride to the Tor had helped mellow him out, and the entire day had been one long slow burn of desire. She’d been wrapped around him since sunrise, and now she’d somehow coiled herself around his soul.
The first time they’d been together, she hadn’t really been Poppy to him. She’d been that Kitchener girl who was the only way to the tea recipe that had been out of his family’s reach for generations.
With the taste of her in his mouth, he felt her nails digging into his shoulders. Then she drew his dick to her center with her hands, rubbing him against her.
There was no way to avoid the fact that this was Poppy. His Poppy. His mind was trying to make sense of the implications of it, but every hormone in his body didn’t give a damn. He needed to fuck her deep and hard. To take her, and for a few moments, maybe allow himself to believe that this might work out. That he’d be able to mend his past mistakes and that the man he was becoming would be enough for her.
She’d said she wasn’t on the pill, so he’d put a condom in his pocket before they’d left for the Tor. He pulled it out and put it on.
“Thanks for wearing one,” she said.
He wrapped his arms around her back and lifted her off the table, turning until he was leaning against it. She locked her legs around his hips as he penetrated her, throwing her head back as he drove himself into her.
The moonlight fell around them as, once again, he got an otherworldly vibe from her. His own soul seemed to catch the same fire from her as she rode him. He braced one hand behind him so he could lean back and give her more room to move the way she wanted to. Her breasts bounced with each thrust, her hands on his shoulders for balance.
He pulled her forward until he could reach one of her breasts with his tongue, then he twirled it over her nipple as she started to move more frantically against him.
“I can’t get you deep enough,” she said.
He held her to him and spun around until she was underneath him on the table. Bracing his feet, he drove into her as deep as he could, pushing her knee back toward her chest. He pounded into her as a red haze came over him, demanding he take everything she had to give.
His lips were on hers, his tongue driving deep into her mouth. Her hand tightened on his shoulder, and the little noises she made got quicker and deeper, until she tore her mouth from his.
“Now.”
He came as soon as the word left her mouth. His orgasm ripped from deep inside him, and he emptied himself, thrusting a few more times to draw out his pleasure. Her pussy kept tightening around him as he fell forward, his head resting in the crook of her shoulder while his breathing slowed.
Her hands moved languidly up and down his back. He glanced down at her noticing that Poppy’s mouth was moving, but her words were silent.
“What are you doing?”
“Thanking the moon for this night,” she said, her hands still playing with his hair. “And for you.”
His breath caught, and hope bloomed in his chest. Fear like he’d never experienced before erupted as well, but he quickly squashed it. “I’m grateful for you, moon fairy.”
“Moon fairy?”
“Yes. Just came to me, but it suits you,” he said.
“Thanks. But you know I live in this world.”
“Something I’m grateful for. Want to go inside and clean up or hang out here?” he asked.
He noticed that she liked to be outside as often as she could. She seemed calmer when she was in nature. It was odd that he’d never absorbed that before.
“I’d love to stay out here, but the table isn’t super comfortable.”
“Right,” he said. “Let’s wash up and—”
She put her fingers over his mouth. “Let’s just go with it. We don’t have to have a plan for every second, do we?”
No. Of course not. He tended to do better when there was a schedule, but he could go with the flow. “Yeah.”
She started laughing as he shifted to get up. “Your face is giving you away. You so want to plan.”
Using his position over her, he started tickling her as her laughter filled the night sky. The coldness he hadn’t been able to shake from the moment she told him she was leaving him began to thaw.
This time, he wasn’t going to try to control the outcome. She had a point when she said they didn’t need a plan. He’d roll with things as much as he could.
There was always going to be a part of him that needed focus, but with Poppy, he wanted to try something new. She tickled him back, but he wasn’t ticklish, so he captured her hands and held them above her head in one of his. “Gotcha.”
Her lips parted as she used her legs to pull him closer to her. “Got you too.”
He knew she was playing. That this was just more of the moonlight magic that had wrapped around them at the Tor. But those words felt right.
As in soul-deep right.
He was already back to making a list of all the things he still had to change and do, but right now, they had each other. If only he could let himself just enjoy this moment. Not worry about what would happen tomorrow with his family.
Tonight, it was just him and Poppy. The two of them together.