Chapter 19
Luckiest son of a bitch on the planet—that was what Decker’s next tattoo was going to read. Because if you’d told him at the start of this project that there would be a reality in which Poppy didn’t hate his guts, he wouldn’t have believed it. But it appeared that she liked him. A lot.
It took about three seconds and a groan for him to realize that while he’d been waiting for her to kick him in in the jewels, Poppy Hart, queen of restraint, had wrapped her legs around his waist and was doing a damn fine polish job on those jewels with her hips.
And if that wasn’t a green light, then her gripping his hair and yanking him down for a kiss was.
And it wasn’t just a kiss. Nope, it was a surface-of-the-sun, open-mouthed, hair-tugging, real fuck-yeah kind of display. A kiss that erased every kiss that had come before and told him exactly where this would lead.
And he decided right there, with Taters snoring and microphones only a door away, that he’d follow this woman wherever she led. No questions asked.
All this time he’d been terrified of letting someone in; keeping people at a distance was the safe thing. When what he really needed was to yank back all the layers and see where things fell. But this wasn’t just someone, this was Poppy Fucking Hart. And nothing could feel better.
Okay, he amended as she slanted her mouth to bite his lower lip and release it with a pop, there was one thing that would feel better. And by the way she was moaning into his mouth, this was just the tailgate party.
And speaking of tail, he had his hands all over hers.
Palming her cheeks and massaging and squeezing that amazing heart-shaped booty.
But it wasn’t enough, so he slid his hands beneath her pajama bottoms and yanked her all the way against him.
Which was only fair since her hands were doing some exploring of their own.
Hell, if this was the result from talking it out then Decker was going to become a Master of Communication, maybe even take one of those courses Miles went on and on about.
Because this was the best conversation he’d ever had.
It was intense and deep, a real fireworks and headed-toward-the-finish-line conversation.
Speaking of finish lines. “Angel, much more of that and it will be game over before I even get those pants of yours off.”
“Then you’d better get to work, because this feels so good I don’t want to stop.”
No further conversation needed, he ran his hands down her curvy thighs and gently unlocked her ankles. Sliding his fingers into her waistline, he slowly peeled her bottoms over her hips and down her legs exposing—holy hell—a piece of black lace that could double as a shoestring.
“Did you wear these for me?” he asked.
“I wasn’t sure when I put them on, but I’m sure now.”
“If I’d known that you slept in dental floss and lace, I would have played this game of Guess what’s below the line a hell of a lot sooner.”
“You know what they say: The best things in life come to those who wait.”
“I’m glad you feel that way,” he said, placing an open-mouth kiss on her inner thigh. Close enough to her center that she gasped but not so close that he put the puck in the net.
Moving to the other side he nipped at the sensitive flesh, soothing it with a kiss. He moved slightly down and repeated the process.
“You’re going the wrong way,” she complained.
“Remember ‘The best things in life’ and all that?”
Ever so slowly, he slid her bottoms even farther down, kissing and nipping the entire way, until she was trembling with every brush of his lips. Soon he reached her ankles and stripped her pants off, throwing them on the floor.
She sighed in relief, as if thinking he was going to go for the slapshot, but instead he reversed the journey.
“More,” she said on a broken whisper.
“Angel, I’m going to tease you until you recant that ‘Bad lips’ comment and admit that these lips have ruined you for any other man.”
She raised up on her elbows and met his gaze. “That’s a big statement.”
“I’m a big guy. And in case you’re wondering, I always follow through.”
“I’ll believe it when I see it. How about you start the show?”
“You might want to grab onto something, because I’m about to show you just how talented my lips are.”
To his delight, she threaded her fingers back through his hair and tugged—not so lightly this time. “Prove me wrong.”
Without another word he lowered his head and licked her right up the center. That was all it took. One contact and her head fell back against the headboard. She didn’t close her eyes though, those were looking down on him.
So she liked to watch? Then he’d give her the best fucking show of her life.
Resting his hands on her knees, he pressed them all the way open and burrowed his face between her legs.
Moving the thread of lace to the side with his nose, he kissed her southern lips over and over, starting out slow and languid, then picking up the pace.
He used his tongue and teeth, nipping until her hips were moving so fast he was practically suffocating in her folds.
“I’m about to—”
He covered her mouth with his hand. “Remember America is listening right outside the door.”
“I don’t care,” she mumbled.
“You will tomorrow,” he told her. “So keep quiet or I stop.”
“Quiet. I promise. Just go faster.” He added a finger to the mix and she bucked into his hand. “Yes,” she whispered. “More of that.”
He gave her more, finding that G-spot and curling his fingers until he could feel her body start to contract. Since she liked that so much, and he was shooting for her to love it, he added another finger while still working his mouth.
“I need to come,” she whispered.
“Take back what you said about that kiss.”
When she didn’t speak, he slowed his pace.
Making shallower licks, and languidly tickling her pleasure spot.
She was still watching, he noted, which spurred him on.
She was more than ready to blow, and while he wanted to be the guy who lit her fuse, he’d be damned if he went there before she admitted she was wrong.
“Decker,” she pled.
“It’s really easy, Angel. Admit my lips blow your mind and I promise you’ll blow like a fucking volcano in seconds.” He ran his teeth down her center and she hit her limit.
“I take it back,” she said, desperation making her voice quiver. “I take it back.”
“Take what back?” He swirled his finger ever so slightly.
“The bad lips comment.” She locked eyes with him. They were dilated and full of desire. “Now make me blow like a volcano or I will take matters into my own hands.”
“Like hell you will,” he growled, and that was all it took for him to snap. He nuzzled his face as close as he could get without cutting off his air supply. And then with his lips and fingers he brought her to the edge, and, with a final swirl of the tongue, pushed her right over into oblivion.
“Decker,” she started to yell, and he caught her cry with his mouth, kissing her all the way through her orgasm until she was placid and limp in his arms.
“Best lips ever,” she whispered with a satisfied smile.
“Just wait until the main event,” he said, feeling a little cocky that he’d made her come and she still had that G-string on. “But first these have to go.”
In one swoop he had her panties on the floor and was reaching for her shirt. “I’ve been dreaming about what’s under here ever since that night in the bar.”
He went to lift her top and she stopped him. “Wait,” she said, and suddenly she seemed nervous.
“Do you want to stop?” he asked, because if she did he would. But, damn, he hoped that wasn’t the case. Not only was he desperate to get inside her, his dick was so hard it was throbbing. “Because we can if you want.”
She shook her head and—thank Christ—gave him the sweetest kiss in the history of kisses. “No, I’m just a little nervous about taking my shirt off.”
“I don’t understand.”
Shyly, she covered her face. “I’m not like the models you’re used to dating. I’m more of a regular-sized woman.”
That’s when it hit him. She was self-conscious about her body and that broke his heart as much as it pissed him off. What kind of assholes had she been dating to make this independent, strong woman so insecure about her delicious curves?
Holding her wrists, he pulled her hands away from her face and said gently, “Don’t hide from me. Ever. Understand?”
She gave a hesitant nod.
“I love your body. I love that you’re real and that you feel all woman beneath my hands. In fact, I can’t stop thinking about your curves. They drive me to insanity.”
“Really?” she said quietly.
He palmed her ass and pressed her snugly against him. “Do you feel that? That’s what your body does to me. I dream about getting my hands on you. I walk around half hard all day because of the way your ass fills out those overalls. And don’t even get me started on you in that swimsuit.”
She snorted. “It was a Speedo.”
“It was sexy as hell.” He dipped down and gave her a gentle kiss. “You’re sexy as hell.”
“Thank you.” Her eyes were a little too glassy for his liking but he was happy she was no longer hiding her emotions from him. “Around you I feel sexy.”
“Then stop hiding.”
And to his delight, she lifted her arms in invitation, and he didn’t waste time. In seconds her shirt was up, up, and over her head, leaving her in nothing but bare skin. And what a sight to behold. Full, perfect tens, all-natural and there for his viewing pleasure.
Her tits were high and more than a handful. Just how he liked them. Decker had always been a bust over legs kind of guy, and these were the most spectacular example of why.
She went to cover her belly with her hands, and he pulled them away. “God, you’re beautiful.”
Her face tinted into the most adorable blush, so he had to kiss her again.
She ran her palms down his chest and tangled her fingers in the waistband of his sweats. “So are you.”
“I’ve been called sexy, studly, handsome, charming,” he teased, “but never beautiful.”