Chapter Thirty-One Before—Poppy
| Thirty-One |
Before—Poppy
Henri and I had a great time in New York. Maybe too great a time. My head was killing me as we drove back from the city despite downing four Advils.
“Why did you let me drink so much?” I asked Henri.
He quickly glanced at me, then back at the road. “Like I could’ve stopped you. I tried to tell you not to mix vodka with Molly, but you wouldn’t listen.”
I groaned. “We should have ended the evening after the first club like Isabel did. She was the smart one.”
“You mean the boring one! Come on, it was great. And if you hadn’t been under the influence, you probably wouldn’t have opened up to me about your creepy husband.”
I sat up straighter. What the hell had I said? “What do you mean?”
Henri shook his head, a grin on his face. “His kink. The way he likes to choke you a little when you’re doing the dirty.”
“Oh, is that all? So he likes it rough sometimes. It’s not like I mind. We keep it fresh. He never goes too far.”
“Whatever you say. Far be it for me to judge. But what about his weird fetish for not letting you go in that room?”
“You mean his office?”
“Yeah, is he like hiding decapitated heads or something?”
“Eww. That’s disgusting. He’s a horror writer, not a serial killer.”
Henri arched a perfect brow. “If you say so, honey.”
I leaned back and closed my eyes, the pounding in my head increasing. “I do. Bennett likes to keep his creative space pure. I get that.”
“Is he allowed to come into your studio?”
I laughed. “Of course. I’m not a psycho.”
“My point exactly.”
I changed the subject. “How are things with Victor? You’re not still thinking of getting a little extra something-something on the side, are you?”
Henri shook his head. “We had a long talk. I told him he needs to pay me more attention or else. He got the message.”
“Good. I like him for you. He keeps you grounded.”
Henri snuck another look at me. “Is that a good thing?”
“Yes. Left to our own devices, the two of us are a dangerous combination.”
Henri nodded. “Facts.”
When we arrived at the house, Henri leaned over and gave me a hug.
“Thanks for a great weekend, doll.”
I smiled at him. “Thank you. And mum’s the word about the Molly. Bennett would have a cow.”
“Square.”
“Promise,” I insisted.
He put up three fingers. “Scout’s honor.”
When I walked into the house, Bennett was waiting by the fire with two glasses of wine and classical music streaming through the speakers. He was wearing a black turtleneck and jeans that made his ass look amazing. Despite my headache, the minute I saw him, I couldn’t wait to tear his clothes off.
“I missed you,” he said, getting up to greet me.
“Show me how much,” I whispered, flicking my tongue in his ear.
He picked me up and carried me over to the sofa and began to peel off my shirt, kissing me on my neck.
I began to whisper in his ear. All the things I wanted him to do to me and that I’d do to him.
I knew how he liked me to talk—the dirtier the better, so I didn’t hold back.
He moaned and held me so tight I almost couldn’t breathe.
I loved seeing him so excited, knowing that I could bring him to the brink with only my words.
I knew all too well how many women would love to take my place.
Wherever we went, they fawned over him, flirting as though I weren’t even there.
I wasn’t going to allow him to grow bored with me.
I wanted him to be obsessed with me, and I knew exactly what I had to do to keep him that way.
I could live without him, but I didn’t want to.
So I intended to make damn sure that he couldn’t live without me.
“I’ve been a bad girl.”
“What do you want me to do about it?”
“Punish me.”