Chapter 19
19
Poppy
My head doesn’t spin, and my thoughts aren’t cloudy. Quite the opposite. I feel more in touch with reality than I have in years. This is real. He is. And he’s right here worshipping me. Instead of ruining what we have, I lean into it and whisper, “God, that feels so good.”
He’s holding my legs wide open. The struggle not to clamp my thighs closed on him consumes me, and the pressure on my clit becomes too much to hold back. So I give in, falling into him, bucking into the darkness against the scruff and the ecstasy of his tongue. “Oh God,” I cry out, my back arching off the mattress before collapsing.
Laird didn’t win my heart with his words, though they made me swoon. How he made me feel that they were real and true had me falling for him.
At the height of unadulterated bliss, I discover who I am. His savior.
I lie there with my eyes closed, letting every tremble traverse its course until I’m left lifeless. Flopping my arms to the side, I grin when he kisses my lips like he does the ones up higher. A giggle escapes while still trying to catch my breath, and I say, “I think I died and went to heaven.” When I wait to see him, he smirks, then licks my star tattoo with a flattened tongue. I weave my fingers through his thick hair, loving how sexy he is when it’s all messed up. “I think you’re obsessed.”
“I am,” he says, kissing it before tracing it with his finger for the thousandth time.
I laugh, but secretly, I’m obsessed that he loves this connection with me. Raising a brow, I smirk. “I don’t know if you’ve forgotten, but you do have one of your own.”
“Mine only matters because of yours.” He admires it again, making me jealous of my own body for stealing the attention, so I lie down. “It’s so fucking sexy on you.”
A shiver runs through me from the cold air. “Because we might be the only two people in the world with it?”
He pulls the top blanket over my chest for me to snuggle with. “Because I know we are.”
The remark is so off the cuff, but I pause, lifting my head once more. “How do you know that?”
“Um,” he says with a shrug. “It’s unique.”
I nod, holding the blanket tight. “It is.” But I reach down to rub my hand over the design just as he pushes up. “I love it.”
“Me too.” The cover is pulled to the side, exposing me to the cool air again. Smiling as he climbs over me like a tiger about to attack his prey, he says, “And for the record, you might be in heaven, but I’m going straight to hell.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Those pearly gates won’t open for someone with my level of bad deeds.” Kissing my mouth, he then asks, “Want to join me in hell? ”
“You’re not so bad. What’s the worst you’ve done? Drink too much, have a lot of sex, do some drugs, play some rock ’n roll? Sounds like a good time, if you ask me.” Running the tips of my nails over his temple, I wrap my arms around him and kiss him again. “And for the record, I’ll follow you anywhere, Laird.” It’s tempting to mess around with him and add “if you keep doing what you just did,” but I don’t. I won’t. His making me orgasm isn’t what will get me to hell with him. No. “All you have to do is ask.”
“Will you come to LA with me?”
My heart stutters to a stop, seizing my breath with it. When I don’t manage to say anything, he adds, “The cold’s been fun, but I’d rather see you in my day-to-day.”
“Your day-to-day?” I understand the words, but for some reason, my mind gets lost in the comprehension.
“I know it’s a lot to ask since you’re from New York, but maybe you could extend the trip or even the job if you need—”
“It’s never about the money. My family has money. As much as I don’t have contact with my dad for being heinous to my mom and absent from my life, he set up a trust fund for me.”
A smile slowly spreads across his mouth. “I love that you followed your passion.”
“It is my passion, but I work because I don’t want to ever rely on my parents again. I built a business, a successful one, but then the accident happened, and I was forced under their dime again. That’s why I’m catering my mom’s wedding.”
“Maybe I’m too tired for this conversation. I have no idea why you would be catering your mom’s wedding to your ex-boyfriend because you were in an accident. ”
“It’s tit for tat with my mom. That’s why we don’t get along.”
He falls to the side of me and rubs the bridge of his nose. “I’ll be honest, I either need food or sleep—”
“Why does it sound like there’s an ‘or’ in there?”
He turns back to me and smirks. “Or sex.”
I roll over and kiss him—gentle at first and then with intention. “Option three.”
“Have you ever been in love, Poppy?”
I take another bite of a cracker and chew because I can’t decide if I tell him the whole truth or just what I know to be true. “No seems accurate when I recall the men in my life, but do you want to hear something preposterous?”
After adding new logs to the fire, he finished an apple and helped me work through two packages of crackers. Then because desperate times call for desperate measures, we eat Froot Loops without milk. “Bring it on.”
I cleanse my palate with water and set the bottle on the coffee table. “I feel like I’ve been in love before. It doesn’t make sense when I think of my bad relationships.”
“What do you mean you feel it?”
“I dream about it as well. I feel cherished in someone’s arms and happy.” I shrug, feeling full and getting tired. “I don’t know how to describe it.”
“Content?”
I nod, glancing at him from the fire. “Safe. I don’t know. It’s how I imagine love to feel like.”
His eyes haven’t left mine, but he comes to sit next to me. “Tell me more. Please.”
“I’ve spoken to doctors, and they tell me to see a therapist. Past trauma from the accident is common.” It’s too late to overthink, so I say, “I feel like my brain is protecting him from the accident even though it couldn’t protect me.”
He strokes my hair, causing me to laugh. “I don’t sound like someone who has their act together, do I? It’s a silly theory, I know.”
Laird’s not laughing like others have. “Besides love, what does it feel like?”
“Like a part of me never woke up.” I unfurl my legs to stand, but he takes hold of my hand. I look at our hands bonded together and then at him. “I guess it didn’t, considering I have amnesia.”
He stands, towering over me. Bringing my hand to his mouth, he kisses it and says, “You’ll remember. I genuinely believe that.” Wrapping me in his arms, he holds me so tightly to him.
I embrace him the same. “The memories are asleep in my heart, and when awakened, I worry I’ll be overwhelmed.”
Kissing the top of my head, he tilts down to meet my eyes again. “Almost like you’ve been in love before.”
“In another life. If I’m lucky, my soul will find its mate again.” I shrug again, too tired for much more effort. “I just have to wait.”
“Maybe you don’t wait. Maybe you just need a key.”
“A key to unlock the past? I prefer that rather than sitting around. How do you suggest I get started?”
“I think you’ll know it when you see it.”
“I like your faith.” I take his hand and pull him around the couch, so ready for bed. “So many things don’t make sense, but this theory does to me. And so does going to bed? ”
He throws his arm over my shoulders, and we walk down the hall together. “You trying to get me to bed?”
“Yes,” I say, so sleepy already. “For sleep this time.”
We take off our clothes.
That’s the first mistake.
“How tired are you?” he asks.
The second is climbing in bed.
“So tired. I couldn’t come again if I wanted.”
Challenging him is the third.
Two orgasms later, we finally fall asleep.
The sun streaks through the trees, deciding I needed to wake up as soon as it dawned. I can’t function. I hide my head in the crook of Laird’s shoulder, but then it disappears altogether.
He closes the curtains, dips into the bathroom, and returns to bed. Pulling my backside to his chest, he kisses my shoulder.
I turn in his arms and kiss under his chin. “Are you awake?” I whisper.
“Mm,” he hums with his eyes clamped shut.
“I want to be a part of your day-to-day.”
The movements are slow, his body dragging along the bed, but he angles himself to look at me. “You’ll come to LA?”
“Yes.”
“You live in LA?”
He doesn’t sound offended, but I can tell he’s soaking in the repercussions of this new information. Getting worried, I say, “I should have told you, but it felt like a lot of information at six in the morning and working off only two hours of sleep.”
Leaning against the island, he finishes a granola bar and asks, “You’re not coming to LA for me?”
“I thought you would be happy I’d be there?” I hoped he would.
His foot bumps mine, and he lands his hands on the counter to trap me. He steals a kiss, then says, “I am.”
“I want to be a part of your day-to-day, and I want you to be a part of mine.”
He tilts his head and gives me that lady-killer smile. “That’s a lot of words for make love to me again.”
“It might be the same number of words.” I start counting in my head, but I’m pulled into Laird’s arms and tossed onto his shoulder too quick to worry.
I giggle, smacking his ass while he carries me to the bedroom. “Laird!”
“I’m hungry.”
Although I’m having the time of my life with him, having no electricity sucks at this stage. I think almost everything is spoiled in the fridge, and I’m not taking chances. Still laughing, I say, “They always have the dunked and cheesy catfish down at Maggie’s.”
“It’s not what I’m hungry for.”
This man is insatiable. His appetite for me is intoxicating.
Tossing me onto the bed, he pulls his shirt off and says, “Only you, baby.”
As much as my body might need more than half a day to recover, I can’t resist him either. I scramble to get my clothes off to catch up with him. He lands hard next to me, pulling me under him just as I strip my thong off. The first kiss is deep, leaving no room for anything sweet.
Best sex of my life and I get to have it again? “God, yes.”
Welcoming him, taking him fully into my body, I indulge in every stretch, burn, and the fullness that completes me. I love the way we fit together, but it’s not the only thing I love.
I stare into his amazing eyes as he loves me right back, our connection growing stronger with every touch and kiss and deeper with each heartbeat.
He slows, our bodies finding their own unique rhythm. Kissing me, he keeps his lips against mine and whispers, “My last name is Faris.”