Chapter 5 #2
“What?” The light from the phone Poppy’s holding darts up to my face, stunning me.
“He’s joking.” I hold a hand out to stop her from blinding me.
“Is that a possibility? Oh god, I haven’t lived enough yet.” She clutches her neck, eyes wide as saucers. “One night does not count as a full life,” she mutters.
“Calm down, Poppy. We’ll be fine.”
“Oh god, oh god,” she cries. She’s spiraling, clutching her arms around her waist.
Instinct takes the helm, and I find myself grasping her jaw, making her breath hitch. “Calm down,” I order in a firmer tone than I’ve ever used with her.
Wide eyes peer up at me, her face glowing from the phone screen. Batting her lashes, she nods. “Okay.”
I stroke a finger across her lip. “Good girl.” Dammit, the darkness and her panic are making me lose my ever-loving mind.
I shouldn’t have let Vance talk me into drinking a bottle of whiskey with him before leaving the apartment.
I’ve been teetering on the edge as is, a monster under my skin, desperate to rip free and gorge on perfect little Poppy.
Swallowing down my lust and ignoring the eyes of my best friend burning a hole in my face, I yank the jacket from my shoulders then sag against the wall. It’s too damn hot in here.
Static crackles before the voice is back. “Apologies. It looks like it’s going to take at least an hour to get you moving. Try to relax.”
Sure, asshole. We’ll relax in a dangling metal container capable of dropping hundreds of feet vertically.
I hate this old building’s design, which doesn’t allow for a bigger or more sophisticated elevator.
It was all I could swing when I needed somewhere to start up.
I can afford any real estate now, but I haven’t taken the plunge.
There’s a small part of me that believes things can still be ripped out from underneath me.
Regardless, tomorrow morning, I’ll instruct Randal—my lawyer and advisor—to find us somewhere more high-end, with huge elevators and backup generators.
“It’s too hot to stay in here for an hour,” Poppy whines and begins shuffling around. I bring my phone to where she’s moving, and my muscles tense beneath my skin.
She’s shoved her box skirt down her legs and has stepped out of it, wearing nothing but a pair of black lace panties and her red fucking bow top.
When I draw the light up to her face, she licks her lips and rolls her head over her shoulders.
“Do either of you have a drink in those sacks?” She dips her head to the Santa sack I have then the brown sack Vance is carrying.
Vance cracks out a laugh, and her eyes narrow. “Have we met before?” At her question, I turn the phone to his face.
He flinches and grabs my wrist, lowering the phone.
He’s lost the bottom of his mask—the beard half—but kept on the devil eyes and horns.
I drag my gaze over his skin, which is now exposed since he’s taken his jacket off.
There’s a sheen of sweat coating his chest and his flexed abs. “No,” he says sharply, and I frown.
“You do have a drink in that sack,” I remind him. I put it in there. He rustles around then produces a bottle of Vodka. I’d planned to hide in my office with him and the bottle.
“Is this a good idea?” he asks, raising the liquor.
“Yes,” Poppy snaps, grasping the bottle neck and pulling it from him. When she slides down the wall, taking a corner for herself, we follow suit. I unwrap a candy and shove it in my mouth before putting the jar in my sack.
“I don’t suppose you have a mixer in there to go with the Vodka?” she asks.
Vance, and I chuckle. “I do not.” He reaches out and snatches the bottle, unscrewing the lid and taking a pull before passing it back to her. The distasteful face she makes when she swallows is cute as all hell.
Offering me the bottle, she winces. “I’m sorry I called you last night. I don’t remember doing it, but I saw on my phone that it was late.”
Vance stiffens, his movement highlighted by my phone propped between us.
My eyes have adjusted, so I can make them both out in the shadows.
I didn’t tell him she called me with her masturbation confession.
Just thinking about it and seeing her in nothing but panties is sending my pulse straight to my dick.
“Did I upset your girlfriend?” Her question comes out sounding timid, presumably embarrassed about prying.
I take a pull of the vodka, letting it wash over the candy before disappearing down my throat. I watch her over the rim as I tell her, “I don’t have a girlfriend.” My voice thickens, pining her with a heated gaze.
She’s watching me from beneath her lashes, chest rising and falling with uneven breaths. I’ve been so caught up in how badly I want to fuck her, own her, that I haven’t noticed her focus on me. The lingering looks, coy smiles, little wisps of breath when I accidently brush past her. The candy gift.
Poppy fucking wants me.
That realization shifts something inside me. I’d let this building crumble around us if it meant I got to fuck her in the wreckage. Fuck the job, the consequences, her fiancé. I need to fuck Poppy. Feel her nails dragging down my back as I claim her sweet pussy. She wants this.
“No girlfriend?” She tilts her head, like she’s making sure she heard me correctly. I want to bind her hair falling like a cascading caramel river around my fist.
“Nope. What about you?” I pass the bottle to Vance but keep my attention fixed on Poppy. I’ve never had this much alone time with her, and I’m going to savor every second of it. “Did your fiancé mind you calling another man at that hour?”
Vance chokes on his pull of vodka, throwing his arm over his mouth to stop from covering us in spittle. “Are you okay?” I frown, scanning him.
“You have a fiancé?” It sounds like an accusation, and I wonder if I’ve never mentioned that before.
He must think I’m a snake for wanting her when she’s not available.
I haven’t fucking taken what I want, though.
Not yet. And not because of the fiancé. If I could, I’d make her beg and plead for my cock until she was raw in the throat.
Then I’d fill it with my cock, making the fiancé watch as I come undone on her tongue.
Fuck, I’m going to hell, and I’ll gladly burn there if it’s with her taste in my mouth.
“Actually,” she sniffles, and my spine straightens. “No.” She releases a sigh then chuckles without humor. “I always thought there was something wrong with me, that I was undesirable.”
I snort, thinking she’s joking. She owns a fucking mirror. No way can she honestly believe that, right? When she doesn’t continue, guilt creeps over me. She’s not joking.
“Poppy, why would you ever think that?” I nudge her thigh with my foot. She’s crossed-legged and in shadow, but even now, she’s still the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.
She takes Vance’s bottle of vodka and chugs it, making a weird sound in the back of her throat as her body revolts at the taste.
“Josh, my fiancé, is gay,” she announces, gritting her teeth and then laughing again.
“What?” Vance leans forward to hear her better.
She covers her face with her hands then throws them up in the air. “I went home to surprise him yesterday with some sexy underwear on and found him fucking Eric.”
When her red lace panties filter through my thoughts, I have to adjust my semi-hard cock to alleviate the ache.
“Who’s Eric?” Confusion has me arching a brow.
She holds a hand to her mouth and shakes her head before her response rushes out. “His cousin.” Squealing, she throws her head back and laughs, making her whole body shake while I silently will the bow to dislodge and show me her tits. “OMG, how crazy is that? I can’t believe I’m telling you.”
“Your fiancé is fucking his own cousin?” Sounding like he wants to confirm he has the facts straight, Vance shifts again, his stupid fucking horns tapping me on the head.
“Yes. And he’s a boy,” she adds, bopping her head up and down.
Cringing, I blow air through my teeth. That's fucking awful. I’m pretty sure Robert—my assistant, who she’s covering for—told me she moved here to be with her fiancé while he finishes an internship. She uprooted her life for him, and this is how he repays her?
Prick.
“You know what’s really crazy?” she snickers, and the intrigue to what could be crazier than what she’s already shared has both Vance and me inclining toward her.
“If he had told me he wanted to bring another man into our relationship, I would’ve been okay with it.
” She shrugs and then laughs again. “If he would’ve shared him.
” Her voice rises in volume. “But I don’t think he’s into women at all.
” She shakes her head. “He never wanted to fuck me, so I thought maybe I wasn’t sexually attractive.
I’d try all sorts of things, but he would always balk. ”
“Sounds like he’s the crazy one,” Vance drawls.
I can’t believe the way she’s speaking, causing me to question everything I’d thought about her.
Hearing the word fuck come out of her mouth is making my head buzz with images of a thousand different positions I want to put her in.
Maybe I had her wrong this whole time, and she’s not an innocent, little, budding flower but a full grown rose, still gorgeous, delicate, but with sharp thorns.
“He told me he didn’t like it when I got…” She squeezes her eyes closed, shaking her head again.
“Got what?” Vance and I move in unison toward her, desperate to hear what she will confess next.
She squirms and turns the phone away from her face so we can’t see her fully.
“Got what, Poppy?” I demand, grabbing her ankle and tugging her closer to us.
She squeals and then giggles. Getting onto her knees, she props her palms on my thighs then leans in to speak against my lips. “Wet.”