Chapter 15
Johnny hasn’t stopped lookingat me since I left Poppy standing outside the fire station and ordered him to get back into the truck. His stare is far too curious for his own good as he watches me from the driver’s seat. Curiosity doesn’t just kill the cat; it plays with it first, drives it to insanity before finally putting it out of its misery.
I’m still half out of my head, reeling from my actions. The carelessness of them. The sheer absurdity. Threatening a man like that in public? That’s a PR nightmare waiting to happen. My stay in this town relies heavily on my anonymity. I’ve risked that over a woman. A woman I have no duty to stand up for.
“You look upset,” Johnny says, risking yet another glance in my direction. I glare at him. “Okay, definitely upset.”
“That should be your sign to stop talking.”
“It might help to talk about it. I’m a great listener, just saying.”
“My silence should have made my wish to not speak about it quite obvious,” I grunt.
“See, but I didn’t want to assume. Sometimes women get quiet when they’re upset, but they actually do want to talk about it. They’re just hoping we’ll make the effort to ask.”
Despite my best efforts not to allow it to happen, his blunt words have my lips twitching. The kid is hopeless, but he just may know more about women than I do.
“How are you so adept in knowing what women want? You’re a kid,” I say.
“Maybe. But I’m also a kid with three sisters and two moms. One sister who happens to be my identical twin,” he explains, turning the truck into the parking space in front of the guest house. “It would probably be a bit ridiculous if I didn’t know so much about women.”
“You’re the only man in a family of five women?” I ask, surprise coiling in my gut.
“Yeeep. And the youngest. Why do you think I spend so much time here?”
“Everyone is always here. I figured you had to be.”
He shakes his head, long hair flying. “Nah. Believe it or not, it’s just nice to be around all this testosterone.”
“I don’t have any siblings.”
I offer the bit of personal information up carefully. The more I divulge to these people, the more dangerous my stay here becomes. Not just because of my cover here—Johnny may be the last person in this town who would bother blabbing about my stay—but because bonds may develop, and that’s not a part of my plan. In and out, that’s the plan.
There’s a pinch in my chest as I remind myself of that, but I ignore it. My feelings don’t matter. It’s my company’s future that I need to focus on. The future that relies on my quick, easy return.
“Not even one? Shit, that was probably lonely. I wish I had a brother, but my sisters kept me company. There was never a dull moment in our house,” he says.
“One child was for the best. My father couldn’t even give one enough—” I cut myself off and tighten my jaw. “Thank you for driving to town. Do you want my help bringing everything back to Eliza?”
Brody gave me the day off from sweeping the shop, and Eliza was quick to snatch up my help. Turns out that she enjoys Johnny’s company just as much as mine. He showed up at the main house five minutes after I did, ready to get to work. Eliza had us scrubbing down boots and washing filthy coats before handing over a long list of groceries for us to pick up in town.
I wasn’t prepared to see Poppy on the way back to the ranch with a truck bed heavy with enough food to feed a small army. But there she was, spitting mad in a casual, loose pair of jeans and a shirt cropped just above the waistband that had me stumbling over my steps. She didn’t hesitate in punching a man I’d never seen before, but the cause of that punch remains partially hidden, much to my dissatisfaction.
There was no stopping my feet from carrying me toward her after that. No time to think about the potential fallout of such a choice.
Johnny taps a hand to the steering wheel and says, “I got it. You might not want to talk, and I’ll keep my mouth shut about it, but I feel like maybe you should go inside and talk to her instead.”
“Eliza?” I ask helplessly, a last-ditch attempt to sway his thoughts from where I know they’ve headed.
“Sure.” He makes a zipping motion across his lips over his, a no-good glimmer in his eyes.
“Keep it to yourself, Johnny.”
It’s the only confirmation he’ll get from me, something to keep him from digging. I don’t wait for him to reply before shoving open the creaky truck door and heading up to the house, hoping that I haven’t made a mistake in trusting him.
I didn’t takeJohnny’s advice. Three hours later, the leftover Tupperware meal from Eliza’s kitchen steams on the table beside the thick file from Nathan that I’ve finally begun to root through.
Every word typed out on the sheets spins the same story that my father sold me upon my departure. That Jocelyn agreed I be sent off to work on myself while the rest of the company put her career in the “of utmost importance” folder. There’s no potential takeover on the horizon, no slimy moves in the background that would make my return difficult. My assets remain my own, no flags from a single curious busybody. It looks like a simple in and out. I hate that I still can’t find it in myself to believe a word of it.
The financial reports and lists of client meetings don’t matter to me as I stare at my father’s signature on the contract with Jocelyn. My name is above his, but not below a signature. No, it’s only written in a demand. I scrape a hand down my face and blow a harsh breath.
I’ve never been barricaded out of my own company before. Never dreamed I would be. It’s chilling, disconcerting. I’m on edge, searching for the bad in everything. I’m ashamed of that. Ashamed that I haven’t figured myself out at all in the two weeks I’ve been here.
Grilled chicken, a cob of corn, and mashed sweet potatoes sit before me. Despite my empty stomach, I can’t bring myself to eat a bite of it. Ten years ago, I would have called my father just to hear his voice in a situation like this. But now, speaking to him about anything, let alone this, is the last thing I want to do.
I shove the food away from me and glance at my phone when it buzzes on the table, the screen bright in the dimly lit room.
Unknown: A gentleman would have left me his number after taking me doggy style.
My pulse jumps, a different type of hunger rolling through me as I take in Poppy’s message. Nobody else would have been as brazen with what we did the other night.
I shift in the wooden chair, dick swelling at the brief memory of just how well she took me in that position. Each moan and cry, the tight, hot grip of her pussy that had me wanting to stay buried inside of her forever.
“Fuck.”
I grip my phone in a tight fist and type out a reply, the strain of my jeans over my groin growing uncomfortable.
Me: How did you get my number?
Unknown: Creeped out?
Me: Curious.
I’m certain it was Brody. He’s the only person here who has access to that information. It isn’t as if I put it up on a bulletin board in town. But what did he think of her asking?
Unknown: I have my ways. I’m not going to share it, if that’s what you’re concerned about.
Me: I wasn’t.
A pause while I input her contact name.
Poppy: Oh. Great then.
Me: I didn’t know you wanted me to leave my number.
Poppy: Yeah, well, I want far more than your number right now.
My cock throbs at her confidence, precum seeping into my briefs. Stretching my neck, I reply.
Me: Tell me what you want then.
She doesn’t text back. Instead, I watch the screen change to show her calling me. I answer instantly, lifting the phone to my ear, not caring for games. We want the same thing. I’ve wanted it since the moment I left her place last Friday.
Her voice is deliciously breathy, wobbly as she speaks over the soft buzz around her. “Where are you right now?”
“The guest house.”
“Are you alone?”
“Completely.”
She moans softly, and I catch the ruffling of blankets in the speaker. “How fast can you get here?”
“What are you doing right now?” I demand, dropping my hand to my cock, pressing against it with enough pressure to elicit a moan of my own.
“You know what I’m doing. But it isn’t enough, and I know that you’ve felt it too. Every day since, haven’t you?”
“Since what, Poppy?”
Her laugh is a strained sound. “Since you’ve been inside of me. You want more as much as I do. Touching you today . . .”
My head falls back, my neck straining with each inhale I suck back. “Tell me.”
“Just come here. Please,” she whines, more of that rustling noise around her, as if she’s kicking her legs out over her bedding.
I grip my shaft through my jeans, squeezing just hard enough to tease relief. It won’t be as easy to just jerk off now that I’ve heard her like this and know she’s thought of me with a vibrator between her legs. Fuck, it hasn’t been easy to jerk off at all since leaving that morning. I’ve tasted paradise, and my body refuses to accept anything less from now on.
“Tell me what you’re doing first,” I push selfishly.
The vibrations grow louder before she gasps. It’s nothing more than a quick, barely there inhale, but I focus on it. Grow frantic to hear another.
“I’m using the same vibrator you used when you were here.”
“Where?” I groan, the memory of the round head of it rubbing over her wet, swollen pussy driving me to near insanity. I’m close to unzipping my jeans and pulling my cock out when she cries out.
“On my clit. It’s so—so good.”
“Stop.”
The command is hard, brutal. I leave no room for argument as I push out of the chair so hard it nearly topples backward and storm out of the house.
“Stop?” Poppy asks, that vibrator still thrumming away.
“Turn it off. Set it on the bed beside you and wait for me right where you are. Use your fingers instead. Stretch your cunt and get ready for me. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”
The vibrations stop. “How many fingers?”
“However many you need. Just don’t come. I get to wring that first one from you.”
She hums, and the sound shoots right to my groin, the fabric of my briefs wet and sticky. “Better hurry, then. I’ve never been good with orgasm denial.”
“I’m a good teacher.”
Johnny left the truck outside, and I find the keys in the visor like always. “Be ready for me, Poppy. Don’t break my rules. I promise you won’t like the consequences.”
“Yes, Sir,” she sings, and fuck it all to hell because I shudder at the sound of the name on her lips.
“Good girl.”
I hang up and start the truck.