Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
Ispent the day debating whether or not I should Google Sammie. And then I started questioning why I was bothering to even think about him. He’s not really coming back. At least, I’m not expecting him to. He got his second night. I got a second night of the best sex of my life.
He’s ruined me. I know I’m never going to experience orgasms like that again. I mean, I’m not lucky enough to meet anyone with that kind of talent twice. That doesn’t mean I want a third night. No matter how much my vagina is begging for him to come back to town.
Which is how I ended up texting him. I knew as soon as I hit send that it was a bad idea, like feeding the beast. The smart thing would have been to delete and block his number. But when soul-shattering orgasms are involved, I can’t really be expected to be smart, right?
He hasn’t answered me, and now I’m more curious about what I’m going to find out if I do Google him. Is that how I want to know him, though? It’s probably better I don’t know anything else about him.
I’m pacing the small area of my living room when my phone starts playing out the song “Devil in Disguise” by Marino.
Sammie told me he was the devil, and I’m starting to believe maybe he is, because no human can be that good.
The song keeps playing, and when I don’t answer, it stops… only to start up again.
“Persistent little fucker, aren’t you?” I answer.
“We both know there is nothing little about me, Poppy.” His gravelly voice sends chills right through me. “Did you do it?”
“Do what?”
“Google me?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t care. I don’t need to know anything about you, Sammie. I’m not planning on seeing you again. It was fun and all, but we really don’t need to continue this.” I flop down onto my couch.
“Where are you right now?”
“Home.”
“Alone?”
“Nope. I found some hot, willing cowboy to ride. I’m all about saving the horses around here, you know. He’s waiting for me in my bed, so I really should go.”
A growl—yes, a full-on growl—comes through my phone. “Poppy, I know you’re fucking with me. On the off chance you’re not, you should warn that cowboy he might want to get on his horse and ride as fast as he can. Because when I catch up, it’s not going to end well for him.”
“Okay, whatever that was, we’re not doing that,” I grumble, and for some stupid reason, I have a smile spread wide across my face. Why the hell do I like that level of possessiveness? I’ve never liked it before.
“I don’t share, Poppy.”
“I’m not your property, Sammie.”
“No, you’re my… It doesn’t matter. I’ll be there tomorrow afternoon. What time do you finish work on Friday?” he asks, changing the subject.
“Why?”
“Because I’m bringing you back to Vegas for the weekend. I need to let the pilot know what time we can leave.”
“Don’t you think you should ask me if I want to go to Vegas with you? I could have other plans,” I remind him. I do have other plans this weekend, and there is no way I’m going to miss them.
“You got other plans?”
“I do actually. My best friend is getting married, remember? And I’m not missing that for anything. Not even your orgasms,” I tell him.
“I forgot about that. We’ll stay at your place this weekend, and next weekend, I’ll bring you back to Vegas.”
“That sounds like a lot of future planning there, Sammie. You need to slow down, and you’re not invited to the wedding.”
“Actually I was, by the bride herself,” he says. “Poppy, go to your bedroom, lie on your bed, and take off your panties.”
I blink. Did he really just say that? I feel like I’m going to get whiplash from the way he changes the subject so easily.
“I’m not doing that,” I say as I walk into my bedroom, wondering why the hell I’m doing this. My brain is telling me to hang up, but my body is telling me to let him keep talking.
“You’re already doing it. Remove your panties, Poppy.”
“You don’t know what I’m doing,” I tell him as I remove my panties and lie on my bed.
“You want this,” he says so matter-of-factly. I hate that he’s right. I do want this.
“Shut up and keep talking,” I groan as I slide under my covers.
Sammie chuckles. “I want you to trail your fingers up the inside of your thigh. Slowly. You don’t want to reach the finish line too fast.”
Switching the call to speaker, I set my phone on the bed and do just that. My legs open and the fingers of my right hand slide up my inner thigh. My nails lightly scratching at my skin.
“Good girl,” Sammie grunts. “Now, slide them through your pussy. Tell me what it feels like, Poppy. Are you wet?”
“Mmm,” I moan. My fingers circle my clit, sending pleasure through my entire body.
“Tell me, Poppy. Are you wet for me?” he repeats.
“I’m wet, but it’s not for you. My fingers are the ones doing it.” I can’t help but be defiant.
“I’m the one getting you off, babe. Your hand is just the tool I’m using. Now, stop playing with your clit and dip those fingers into that tight cunt I know is dying to have my cock fill it.”
“Oh, fuck,” I groan as I push two fingers inside my pussy. His filthy mouth is doing things to me I never thought possible over the phone.
“Tell me, Poppy, how much do you want my cock filling you right now?” he asks.
“My fingers are doing just fine,” I reply.
“Pump them fast. I want to hear you scream my name when you come.”
“Oh god!”
“Not god, babe, Sammie is the name you’re looking for,” he reminds me. “Fuck yourself faster, harder. Do it just like I would. Just how you fucking love it.”
My fingers pump in and out of my pussy faster, but it’s not as good as when he’s done this. It never will be. “I fucking hate you,” I moan as pleasure runs up my spine, and my thighs lock in place.
“Sure you do,” Sammie says. “Hate me while you come for me, Poppy.”
My entire body seizes up as I come apart, falling over that cliff. I scream, making sure not to utter his name, even though that’s all that’s in my head.
“You good?” Sammie’s voice takes me out of my moment of bliss. I turn to the phone.
“I hate that you’re so good at sex stuff. I’m never going to be able to find someone else who can do me this good.”
“Thank you?” His response comes out as a question.
“It was a complaint. Not a compliment, Sammie. Why are you calling me?”
“To give you an orgasm, you know, one like no one else can give you.”
“Don’t get cocky. The night is still early, and there’s a bunkhouse full of cowboys,” I tell him.
“How many?”
“How many what?”
“How many cowboys live in this bunkhouse?”
“Ten maybe. I don’t know. Why?”
“Just wondering how many families will have to be notified of their loss when I blow it to pieces.”
“You wouldn’t.”
“Yeah, I would,” he says bluntly. “What time do you finish work tomorrow?”
“What? You can’t go from threatening to blow people up to asking me what time I finish work, Sammie. Are you insane?”
“Probably a little. But honestly, if you met the rest of my family, you’d realize I’m really the sane one of the lot.”
“I have no intention of meeting your family. You really shouldn’t come here tomorrow. I think we should call this now. It was fun. Now it’s done,” I tell him.
“You’re right. It has been fun, which is why there is no way in hell that we’re stopping anytime soon, Poppy. I’ll see you tomorrow. Get some rest. You’ll need it.”
The call cuts off, and I lie here staring at my phone.
“Argh, he can’t be serious,” I groan as I contemplate how I’m going to shake this guy.
I can’t get attached. I can’t get used to him being around. I just can’t. Maybe dinner with my cousins isn’t such a bad idea. He’ll realize just how different and incompatible we are. Sure, we have great sex, but life is more than just good orgasms. Right?