Poppy
Steam drifted around us, my skin warm and dewy with heat, my hands against the cold tile…John’s hands on me.
One on my breast, one on my hip.
His cock buried inside me as the shower poured hot water over us.
“Fuck…” he growled as he started to thrust into me fast and hard. “That’s right. Take it, baby.”
I let out this breathy sound, my right hand balling into a fist against the tile, my left hand splayed out to brace myself. Johnny Lawson fucked me harder—so hard my feet slid forward, pushing my chest against the wall too, the cold on my nipples making me cry out.
“John,” I gasped. “Yes—”
“You feel so fucking good,” he snarled into the crook of my neck. “Can’t fucking stop—such a good girl for me—”
“I wanna be your good girl—”
The hand that had been on my breasts slid down between my legs and flicked my clit.
I came so hard I thought I was going to pass out.
John held me through it, his hips stuttering as he came with me, the two of us breathing hard. The water kept coming down…steam rolling off us, filling my lungs, his arms around me.
He turned me in his arms and I leaned against the wall, gazing into his eyes as we exchanged exhausted kisses.
I’d barely slept a wink—waking up over and over with his lips on my neck, his hands on me…
or, if he was asleep, waking up needing to touch him, reaching for him, asking him to fuck me again.
Four times.
This made number five.
“I need to get to work,” I murmured, smiling against his lips. “I’m already going to be late unlocking the office…”
“Call in.”
I laughed, pressing my hands to his chest but not trying hard at all to stop. I didn’t want to stop.
“You’re bad,” I said.
“I thought you liked me bad.”
He kissed me again, the shower forgotten. At some point during the night I’d told him I was on the pill, we didn’t need condoms…so he’d just stopped using them. His cock was already getting hard again, prodding against my belly.
“I wanna take you up to the distillery,” he said. “Keep you naked in my bed up there for a week…a lifetime?”
I laughed, even as my whole body responded to the idea of it—Due North, his big house up there, the lake at night, John in his own space with nowhere to be and no noon meeting waiting.
“I have a job,” I reminded him. “An actual office to open. People who get matched to their soulmates depend on me showing up.”
“I could match you to your soulmate right now,” he said, mouth at my ear. “Save everyone the trouble.”
“Smooth.” I pushed lightly at his chest, finally meaning it a little. “I actually need to get out, though…Sophie’s already suspicious and I’m not ready to tell her about us.”
He kissed me one more time, then stepped out of the way and held my hand as I stepped out, staying behind in the steam.
God, I wanted to get right back in.
I wrapped a t-shirt around my hair, a towel around my torso, then padded out of the bathroom. Just needed to find an outfit, maybe put on a little makeup…Johnny would drop me off at the station close to Bloom so I could get there faster and it would at least look like I got myself to work—
“GIVE ME ALL YOUR MONEY—”
I whipped around to see someone in a labcoat and a motorcycle helmet, shrieked despite myself—
Only for Stevie to yank the helmet off, laughing hysterically…and then stop dead when a giant, dripping, naked man raced out of the bathroom.
John skidded to a stop in the doorway, water sluicing down his chest, every muscle braced for a fight that had already evaporated.
Stevie, helmet dangling from one hand, looked up. And up. Took her time about it.
"Oh my god," she said, eyes as big as dinner plates. "Hi."
Nobody moved.
"Stevie—" I clutched the towel tighter, heart still hammering. "What is wrong with you—"
"I found a motorcycle helmet on the counter and decided to be a home invader," she said, like this was a reasonable explanation. "I did not factor in a naked man emerging from the bathroom at full speed. That part was unplanned."
John was breathing hard. “This is—this is your roommate—”
“Yeah.”
His hands shot down to cover his junk and he shuffled backwards into the bathroom, shutting the door.
Stevie turned her gaze to me.
“Whiskey Daddy spent the night,” she whispered.
“Please don’t call him that.”
“But he’s a daddy and he makes whiskey,” she said. “You—Poppy. You need to tell me when you have a strange man in the apartment. But also you’re forgiven because oh my god he’s so much hotter than I expected—?”
The door opened and John stepped out of the bathroom with a towel around his waist, extending a hand to Stevie like he wasn’t almost completely naked.
“You must be Stevie,” he said. “I’m John—but you can call me Whiskey Daddy if you really want to.”
Stevie shook his hand for a very, very long time.
“Stevie,” I hissed.
“Yeah,” she said, not looking away from him. “That’s me. That’s my name.”
I guess John just had that effect on everyone.
“I’ll leave you two to catch up,” he finally said, then pulled away.
Dropped his towel right before he closed the door.
Stevie blinked.
“I didn’t know he had an exhibitionist streak,” I muttered. “I guess not everything lands in the report.”
Stevie’s eyes came to me. “Where do I sign up for one?”
“You know where,” I laughed. “Speaking of which…I really need to get to work.”
“But I need you to tell me everything,” she said, grabbing my wrist. “Stay home.”
“If I call in, I’m going to his place—not staying,” I said. “And don’t you need sleep? You look exhausted.”
“No no—coffee,” she said, already moving to the kitchen. “I’m making coffee. We’re doing this properly. Sit.”
“Stevie, I genuinely have to go to work.”
“Five minutes. I just watched a naked silver fox drop a towel in my kitchen at eight in the morning, I require processing time.” She filled the kettle, hands slightly unsteady. “This is…a lot for a Tuesday.”
I checked the clock on the microwave and did some quick math.
“Okay,” I finally said, dropping into a chair. “Go.”
"How." She set two mugs down with more force than necessary. "How did this happen. Walk me through it. Start at the coffee shop."
"I texted you about the coffee shop."
"You texted me three sentences then I didn’t see you all weekend. I need the full account. The body language. The vibes."
I glanced over my shoulder. My bedroom door was still shut. I was still in a towel, I needed to get dressed…
“I promise I’ll set a time to fill you in on everything later,” I said. “How about lunch?”
Stevie groaned in frustration, throwing her head back. “Fine. But I’m big mad about it.”
“Then throw a tantrum,” I said, standing up. “Just get it out of your system before I meet you at Wa for sushi at one.”
She narrowed her eyes. “You’re bribing me into being chill.”
“I would never expect you to be chill.”
I walked down the hallway, leaving her to stew, and opened my bedroom door. I found John tugging on his shirt, his eyes finding me as I closed the door behind me. Those eyes roamed up my bare legs…right to where the towel draped over my thighs, slightly parted.
He made this…this noise. Caught his lip in his teeth.
“Tonight?” he asked me.
I smiled. “Your place,” I said.
I kept the towel around me as I went to my closet…only to feel him come up behind me, slide his hands around my waist, pull the towel free. His hands came to rest on my hips, his lips on my throat.
“You sure we don’t have time for one more?” he asked.
I glanced back at him. “Only if you ride extra fast.”
I heard his zipper come down, then felt his cock against me.
He slid inside me in one thrust.
For the last time that morning, he fucked me—held me, my hands braced against the wall beside my closet door, his hands roaming all over. He touched my clit to make it fast on request—and I felt myself growing, growing, cresting—
“Oh god,” I gasped.
“Come on my cock, baby,” he growled in my ear. “Come on.”
So I did.