Chapter 9
Gibson
The drive back up the mountain is quiet. Poppy is tired and she’s leaned back in her seat looking out the window. I meant what I said about her fitting here. I wanted my solitude for a long time and I built the place that I needed. I thought it was the life I needed.
But having Poppy in my home, talking to her, smiling at her while she cuddles Stevie – hell, somehow letting her convince me to have Stevie in the house – she just fits. Maybe I didn’t need a place. Maybe I just needed a person.
When we pull in, tires crunching over the gravel, Poppy’s head turns to me, her soft smile making my chest ache.
I stop the car and notice Stevie watching from the barn gate, which she’s somehow managed to maneuver herself against so that she can see the driveway.
She shakes her head when I step out, ears flying, making her feelings about being left behind very clear.
"I get it," I say. “You missed her.” Just like I will when – if – she leaves. Stevie’s bleat has to be the equivalent of several curse words, and it pushes the thought of Poppy going anywhere out of my head.
I go round to the passenger side and open the door.
"She definitely should have come," Poppy says, handing me her crutches.
"Absolutely not." I run them up to the porch, leaning them against the door before jogging back to her.
“Hey, I need those.”
I shake my head. “Nope, you’ve been on your feet for too long today.
And your arms have to be sore from leaning on them too.
You heard Dr. Brennan, you need rest.” I slide my arm under her, lifting her out of the seat and shutting the door with my hip.
She cuddles into my chest, and her hand strokes the back of my neck.
I really had no intention of doing anything other than watching a movie with her tonight, but when her warm breath caresses my neck, and I feel her lips against my skin, I swallow hard.
I take the steps to the porch without a second glance at Stevie and tap the code to the lock. Inside the cabin is warm after the freshness of the spring day and between that and Poppy’s hand caressing the sensitive skin of my neck, my body heats, arousal roaring awake inside me.
I bypass the living room and head straight upstairs to my bedroom, pausing in front of my door. “Poppy, look at me,” I say.
She tips her head back, those pretty, blue eyes meeting mine. “This isn’t my room,” she says.
“No, it’s mine. And if I carry you in there, I’m not sure I’m going to be able to let you leave, so tell me to take you to yours. You can have a nap and then we can have dinner and watch—”
“Gibb if you take me to my room for a nap, like I’m a little girl, I will scream. And that will set Stevie off, now that she can get in the house. Do you really want her bleating all night?”
“Are you threatening me with a goat?”
“Listen, the way I feel right now, I’ll threaten you with whatever is at my disposal to get what I want.”
“What do you want?” I ask, just to be sure.
“You, please.”
Her simple response takes my breath away, or maybe it’s just that all the blood in my body has flowed south and my brain has forgotten how to breathe.
I cross the threshold with her in my arms and lay her down on my bed.
Her dark hair fans out around her, blending in with the black silk of my comforter.
“Well, when you ask so nicely, how can I refuse?” I reach behind me with one hand and pull my sweater and t-shirt over my head, tossing them to the side.
Poppy rises up on her elbows and licks her lips and that’s almost all it takes for me to come right there. I’ve been celibate for a long time and if I don’t get a hold of myself, this is going to be short and embarrassing.
“God, you’re so beautiful, Poppy.” I gently lift her legs and remove her boots before sliding the sweatpants she’s wearing down her legs. “Have I mentioned how much I like seeing you in my clothes?”
She trembles as I glide my fingertips behind the satin skin of her knees. “I like wearing them. It makes me feel closer to you.”
I lean down and press a light kiss to the inside of her thigh.
Her chest is rising and falling rapidly, and I pass my hand over her tummy, pushing her sweater up.
She’s wearing a thin, white t-shirt under it and I lift her gently, helping her untangle her hair as the sweater goes up and over her head.
She grips the hem of the t-shirt, but I stop her, my hand over hers.
“Leave it.” I want to draw this out. I’ve imagined her full tits so many times, and I can see her nipples hard under the cotton of the shirt.
I rub my hand over one, watching her mouth fall slack.
She inhales a shaky breath, and I move down the bed, my hands gliding over her curves.
When I grip her hip, she moans softly, arching against me.
I lean over and kiss her belly, my tongue tracing the edge of her panties.
I push them to the side and run a knuckle down the seam.
Fuck me, she’s soaked. Slowly, I slide my fingers back and forth, learning which touches she likes the most, what pressure elicits that low moan that makes my cock jump.
Finally, I can’t take anymore, and I settle between her legs, lifting them carefully over my shoulders and bury my face in her sweet scent. Her hips buck and I tighten my fingers, holding her in place.
“Gibb,” she whimpers as my tongue licks lightly along her lips.
I slide my hands down and spread her with my thumbs, her glistening pussy making my mouth water feast on her like a starving man.
I move my thumbs in, softly rubbing her clit between them while her hips strain to move.
Dipping my tongue inside, I lap at her honey, feeling the tension tighten in her legs.
She’s so close and somehow I’m managing to hold on, my hips bucking against the bed as I lose myself in her taste.
Poppy gasps with pleasure, her tiny moans and whimpers fueling me as I lick and suck her sweetness.
I slip a finger into her and she’s so soft and hot and tight it makes me groan.
I circle her bud with my tongue, one hand on her stomach to hold down her frantic movements and push another finger into her soaked cunt.
She gives a keening cry and I feel her clamp down on my fingers as I move them in and out drawing out her orgasm until the tremors subside.
I lift my head, propping my chin on her stomach. “That was one,” I say.
Poppy’s eyelids flutter and she looks down at me. “Wha—”
“You look so fucking beautiful after you come. I’m going to have to make you scream all night.”