Chapter 8 Jack
CHAPTER EIGHT
JACK
I wake up smothered in the scent of vanilla with the faintest trace of lavender. Poppy is sprawled across my chest. I don’t even try to move at first. I just lie there, breathing her in, remembering every second of last night.
Holy hell.
I’m used to waking up alone. Or with a farting French Bulldog snoring in my armpit. But I can honestly say having her curvy body pressed tight against mine is my favorite way to wake up. My cock stirs instantly, but I ignore the fucker.
I have no clue how I got this fucking lucky, but I’m not about to complain about my good fortune.
I slide one hand up her back, tracing circles along her silky skin. She mumbles my name into my chest, her lips scrunching against my skin, and my heart skips a beat. Oh, man. I am so whipped.
I decide to let her sleep and try to move without waking her, but she’s latched on with both arms and one leg thrown over mine like she’s anchoring me down.
I can’t fucking resist. I duck my head and brush my mouth over her temple, then her cheek, then down to the edge of her jaw. She doesn’t wake, just burrows closer. I keep at it, gentle but insistent, and after a minute she stirs, lashes fluttering.
“Don’t wanna move,” she grumbles into my chest.
“You don’t have to,” I tell her, voice rough. “You aren’t going anywhere.”
She shifts, peeking one eye open. She stares at me for a long, silent second, then blinks. Her tongue darts out, sweeping her lips, and she looks so dazed it’s almost comical.
“Is this real?” she mutters, squinting.
I palm her cheek, thumb brushing the ridge of her cheekbone. “Real as it gets, kitten.”
“Thank God.” She’s got the sexiest fucking smile I’ve ever seen.
I lean in and catch her lips with mine, slow and sweet at first, just because I can. Her lashes flutter and she melts into the kiss, her little fingers sliding up into my hair and tugging gently. My cock wakes up, all the way this time.
Fucking hell. She owns me, heart and soul.
She pulls back just a little and blinks up at me, her curls spilling everywhere and her cheeks flushed. “I need a shower and then something to eat before we have another round of dessert.”
I run my palm along her thigh, loving the way she shivers. “Whatever you need.” I brush a stray curl off her forehead and stand to lift her into my arms.
I turn the shower all the way to hot, and the steam fills the bathroom.
I step into the glass enclosure with her curvy body in my arms. I want her again, but I can feel how raw and spent she is, so I keep it slow, just mouths and hands and the steady beat of her heart against mine.
I set her on her feet and reach for the bottle of body wash. She shivers when I soap her up, and makes a sound when my hands wander, but when I go for her breasts, she laughs and tries to wriggle away. “Breakfast first. Then dessert.”
“Anything for you,” I murmur, kissing the tip of her nose.
After we finish our shower, we towel off and get dressed.
Poppy pulls on her black dress from last night, the fabric still slightly wrinkled from where it had been tossed carelessly onto my bedroom floor.
Water droplets cling to her neck where she missed drying off, catching the morning light filtering through the bathroom window.
She smooths her hands over the dress, trying to make herself presentable.
"Before we do anything, I need to go home, change clothes, and feed Moonpie.”
I want to haul her right back into bed, but I can see how serious she is, so I just nod and tuck a finger under her chin.
"Whatever you want, kitten. I'll walk you home and meet Moonpie while you get ready.
" Her cheeks pink up, and she looks so damn adorable, I can't help but lean in for one more kiss. Her mouth is my new addiction.
When she finally pulls away, she’s breathless and blushing, smoothing her hands over her dress. "I look like I’ve been steamrolled," she mutters, staring at her reflection in the bathroom mirror.
I wrap my arms around her from behind and bury my nose in her wild curls. "You look perfect to me." I mean it. I want her just like this: messy, flushed, fresh from my bed.
We walk down the hall to her place hand in hand. The building is quiet this early on a Saturday morning, but Mrs. Winters does pass us in the hall, and I know the building grapevine is going to be buzzing like crazy.
The second we step inside her small apartment, I spot her cat perched on the windowsill like she owns the place.
Poppy scoops her up and introduces us. “Jack, this is Moonpie. She’s the real boss around here.
” The moment I reach out, the cat gives my hand an assessing sniff, then head butts my knuckles.
“She likes you,” Poppy says, sounding half-shocked, half-suspicious.
“I have a gift with furballs,” I tease as the cat hops down and rushes straight over to her empty food dish.
I stifle a laugh as Poppy shoots me a look like, See? Told you. The cat is already yowling for breakfast, acting like she’s on the verge of starvation. Meanwhile, Moonpie has at least twelve chins and a chunkier ass than my Frenchie.
“Her food is in the silver canister on the counter,” Poppy tells me.
“If you feed her, you’ll be her friend forever.
I’ll be right back.” She disappears into the bathroom while I find the canister and pour some food into the ceramic fishbone-shaped bowl.
Moonpie gets right in there, all business, crunching like she hasn’t eaten since the dawn of time.
I’m still grinning at the cat’s feeding frenzy when I hear Poppy’s voice behind me. “Okay. Don’t judge, but this is my comfiest outfit.” I turn and nearly swallow my tongue.
Holy. Shit.
She’s standing there in tight black capris and a simple gray T-shirt that clings to her curves like a second skin. Her hair is still damp, curls going wild over her shoulders. She looks so goddamn cute that I actually forget how words work for a second.
I crowd her in two steps, pinning her against the wall with my body. My hands bracket her hips. “You look fucking perfect, kitten. You always do.”
My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I groan to myself. Since I’m not on call, it must be my asshole brother.
I glance down at the screen and see a message from him.
Spare Parts
Your dog is a menace.
Me
What’s new?
Spare Parts
She’s singing the song of her people at earsplitting levels. Come get her before my neighbors complain.
Me
I’m on my way.
I glance up and see Poppy staring at me, her mahogany eyes wide with concern, bottom lip caught between her teeth. "Is everything okay?"
"Pepper is ready to come home. The little shit is causing a disturbance at my brother's place," I explain, sliding my phone into my back pocket.
I reach for her hand, my fingers enveloping hers completely.
Her skin is warm and silky. I can't help but stroke my thumb across her knuckles.
"Let's go get my troublemaking Frenchie, then I'll take you to that little café on Maple with the cinnamon rolls the size of your head. "
Her eyes widen like I just promised her a million dollars and a pony. “Oh my God, yes.” She’s already halfway to the door, all curves and attitude, and for a second, I just stand there watching her walk away from me. That ass should be illegal. I want to grab it with both hands and never let go.
I follow and catch her by the waist before she can open the door. She squeaks, twisting in my arms, and stares up at me. Her cheeks are pink, her breath fanning hot against my jaw. “Excuse you, Detective. I’m on a mission to rescue your dog so I can have a huge cinnamon roll.”
“You’ll get your cinnamon roll, kitten. But first, a kiss.” I don’t wait for permission. I bend down, take her mouth, and kiss the ever-loving hell out of her. She melts and her hands fist in my shirt.
Oh, man. I am in so much trouble.
If I don’t get her out of here right now, I’m going to end up tossing her on the couch and having my wicked way with her. Cinnamon rolls, Frenchies, and brothers be damned. She’s addictive.
I force myself to break the kiss, but not before stealing one last little taste. Then I grab her hand and lace our fingers together.
“Rescue mission,” I rumble, like I’m not seconds from losing control. “Let’s go.”
We head down the hall, her small hand tucked perfectly in mine. I swear, every time I look at her, I forget how to breathe. She’s got this bounce in her step, so her hips sway just a little, daring me to pin her against the nearest wall. I’m obsessed.
I probably look like a lovesick idiot, grinning at nothing, but I don’t care.
Jay’s apartment is a few floors down from mine, but the difference is night and day.
Where mine is dark wood, black, and severe, Jay’s is a goddamn showcase.
The entryway is flooded with natural light, tastefully arranged houseplants, and expensive art.
There’s music playing, something jazzy and complicated.
The second the door swings open, the first thing I see is Salty, the platinum menace, skidding across the tile in a blur of muscle and attitude.
Pepper howls, launching herself into a headlong collision with her brother.
The next five seconds are pure chaos: barks, snorts, and the slap of two Frenchies ricocheting off every hard surface.
“Thank God you finally got here,” Jay says, but he’s grinning.
He’s dressed like he walked out of a GQ shoot—gray slacks, black shirt, sleeves rolled just so, hair perfect, even indoors.
He has his signature tortoiseshell glasses on, the ones he wears for absolutely no reason except to look smarter than everyone else.
He notices Poppy and instantly turns on the charm.
“Hello.” Jay focuses on Poppy with laser accuracy. He offers his hand, and Poppy gets flustered and goes in for a handshake, except Jay turns it into a full hug. “You’re way too gorgeous to be with my ugly ass brother.”
I wedge myself between them, tugging Poppy back to my side. “Fuck off, asshole,” I warn, low and direct. “You look just like me.”
“Not true,” he argues. “I’m way more handsome.”
I roll my eyes so hard I almost sprain something. “You wish.”
Jay ignores me, obviously, and turns all his attention on Poppy, who is busy trying not to laugh. “I’m Julian, but everyone calls me Jay.”
At that moment, Salty and Pepper decide to launch into another round of death-match WWE wrestling.
There’s a wild tangle of Frenchies, all teeth and snorts and pure chaos.
I grab Pepper mid-lunge before she can body slam her brother into the wall, but not before both dogs let out this high-pitched, ear-shattering scream like they’re being tortured.
Jay sighs dramatically, running his fingers through his perfectly styled hair. "See what I've been dealing with? An hour of this, and my neighbors probably think I'm running an underground dog fighting ring."
Poppy grins at him, her dark eyes crinkling at the corners as she watches Salty's wrinkled face and bat-like ears twitch with excitement. "Salty's adorable."
“Thank you.” Jay smiles at her, then gives me a look over her head that says, Not bad, brother. Not bad at all.
I grunt and drag Poppy tighter against my side, just because I can.
Jay winks at me, then mouths, “Don’t fuck it up.”
I roll my eyes hard. God, he’s annoying. “We have to run,” I tell my brother. “I promised my girl a Maple’s cinnamon roll.”
“Pepper is going to shit in your favorite shoes if you leave her again,” my asshole brother warns me.
“That’s why I chose Maple’s.” I lean down to slip Pepper into her harness and hook the leash. “They have outside seating so she can come with us.”