Chapter 10 #3
He looked down, took in her button-down shirt, and decided it had to go. But it had too many buttons. He met her eyes. “Is this a favorite shirt?” he demanded, his voice growly. His need for her was madness, fiercely unstoppable.
“What? Uh, no? Why?”
“Good.” Thom didn’t hesitate, or waste time explaining, he simply grabbed each side and ripped it open, causing tiny buttons to fly.
He groaned at the sight of her nipples pushing through her pink lacy bra.
Not being able to wait, he ducked his head to suck one, material and all, into his mouth.
Impatient to taste only her, he pulled the wet fabric aside, and his stomach clenched when he heard Poppy growl.
Yeah, she liked that. She liked that a lot.
Conscious of the disparity in their heights—she was so little—he lifted her with one arm and, using the other, swept his papers off his desk, wincing slightly when he heard his laptop tumble to the floor. If he cracked the screen … well, hell, he’d live.
He wouldn’t if he didn’t get inside Poppy.
Dumping her on the dining table, he told her to take off her bra as he went to work on the buttons on the fly of her jeans.
He needed to feel her, taste her, consume her… Last night had just been the appetizer, and this was the main meal. And he was starving…
Just barely managing to restrain himself from ripping her jeans off, too—he was not that much of a thug (and let’s be realistic, denim was a lot stronger than cotton)—he pushed his thumbs between the fabric and her hips, and they dropped to the floor.
Thom kicked it away with his foot. She now wore just a thong, him his shorts—both would have to go soon, too—and he plastered his hands on her butt and yanked her into him, so that she was almost off the table, her legs bracketing his hips.
It had been too long since his mouth was on hers, so he ducked his head, needing her lips under his.
He thought their kiss would be wild, but for some reason, they both opted to slow it down, to savor.
A nip here, a tiny suck there. A long, sweet slide of his tongue over hers.
He loved the feeling of her small hands running over his bare chest, her fingers tap-dancing their way down his ribcage and his abs, his hips; her thumbs skating over his obliques.
He wanted her hands on his cock, but also didn’t…
He wanted her, but he didn’t want this to end so soon.
There was only one first time.
The thought struck him. “Pops?”
“Mmm?”
“We should be doing this in a bed.”
Poppy, because she was Poppy and always did the unexpected, laughed. “Here is perfectly fine,” she told him. “The only reason to go upstairs would be because that’s where condoms generally live.”
Did he have a condom down here? It took Thom a few seconds to remember whether he had one in his wallet and how old it was. It was good. And his wallet was on top of the fridge, just a few steps away. “Are you okay with our first time being on your grandma’s dining table?”
As soon as the words left his mouth, he cursed himself. Who wanted to be reminded of their grandmother in the middle of a hot encounter? Again, unexpectedly, Poppy laughed. “I have a feeling she’d approve.”
She linked her arms around his neck and deepened their kiss, taking it from soft and sexy to wild and passionate, and Thom decided it was like being caught up in a hot, frantic, whippy storm.
One that was about to blow them both away.
But he needed to give Poppy one more chance, to make sure, so he lightly held her chin and waited for her to meet his eyes. God, her eyes, so blue…
“Are you sure you want this, Poppy? Are you sure you want me?”
There was no doubt in her eyes, and he released the air he’d been holding. “I’m sure,” she murmured.
Thom wrapped one strong arm around her bottom and claimed her mouth again. Their kiss bypassed heated and went straight to molten. Her legs hooked around his waist, and she scooted closer to him to plaster her mound against his straining, steel-hard cock.
Nothing else was important but to be naked, to have her hands on him, knowing him.
He pushed his sleeping shorts down, but Poppy slapped his hands away and slipped them down his hips, then his legs, herself.
He stepped out of them as she lifted one hip to try to remove her thong.
She looked at him, frustrated. “I can live without these, too,” she told him.
Excellent news. With one quick twist, he snapped the whisper-thin cords and pulled the thong out from under her. This was happening, here and now.
There was most definitely a God.
Thom, thinking about the condom in his wallet, tried to step away, but Poppy slapped a hand against the back of his neck and dragged him into a kiss that caused his toes to curl.
The kiss went on forever, accompanied by her rubbing her folds against his cock, and he was rapidly losing the ability to think.
Thom, with difficulty, stepped away and held up his hands. “Poppy … condom.”
Poppy bounced on the dining room table, obviously frustrated.
She pushed her fingers between her legs, and he smiled at her eagerness.
He couldn’t wait to get back to her, to give her what she needed.
He snatched his wallet from the fridge, flipped it open, and scattered cards and cash to the floor. “Where the fuck is it? Yeah, sweet.”
He held it up in his fingers as he stood between her legs again. “You going to do the honors, or must I?”
Poppy smiled slowly as she pulled the little packet from his fingers.
“Oh, I think I will.” She released a happy sigh as her fingers whispered the latex over him, him in her fist. Then she looked up at him with her big, blue, grown-up eyes, and his world flipped over. “Make love to me, Thom. I need you to.”
It was an offer he’d never, not in this life, or any that came after, refuse.