Chapter 37
POPPY
The café is quiet this morning, the first rush of early birds having been and gone, and I take the moment of calm to clean the tables while they’re empty.
Ethan is busy behind the counter refilling the espresso hopper and restocking the fridges with milk jugs from the back. I’ve had him doing most of the heavy lifting today. Although I’m feeling much better than yesterday, I’m not back to one hundred percent.
I wipe some crumbs from the coffee table by the fireplace, thinking about Jett’s big win, and the texts we shared over the weekend. A rush ripples through me as I think of him getting the picture I sent him, the way he might have looked at it while he…
My thoughts are interrupted when I hear the familiar tinkle of the bell over the front door.
I look up and let my eyes slowly wander up the body of the man who just entered. The confident stride, trim waist, muscular shoulders and arms. The chiseled jaw, flirtatious smirk, and sparkling brown eyes.
“Jett!” I squeal.
The few people who are in the café, busy on laptops and in their work bubble with headphones on, look up to see the commotion. Jett’s smirk turns into a full-blown smile when he sees me, warm and joyful, genuine.
I run over to him, dropping my rag, and throw my arms around his neck when I get there. He responds by squeezing me tight around my waist, and lifting my feet clean off the floor.
If someone was ever skeptical of the validity of our relationship, they wouldn’t be after this. Jett places me back on the floor and holds me back to look at me.
“It’s good to see you doing better,” he says, eyes raking over me, assessing me. His gaze used to make me feel vulnerable, shy, bashful even. But now… the feeling of his eyes on me sends a blissful heat straight down to my lower half.
“Don’t you have press conferences today? Public appearances? I would think you’d be busy after your big win,” I point out.
“I wanted to be here with you. When you said you were having a flare…” Jett shakes his head, a line forming between his brows. “I got the first flight home this morning.”
“I’m okay, really, it’s nothing I’m not used to.” I try to reassure him, but I’m also grinning from ear to ear thinking of Jett rushing home to me. “It’s cute that you were worried about me, though.”
“I was worried about you,” Jett admits.
I know that for him, the admission is difficult. He doesn’t like getting attached, doesn’t want to put himself in the vulnerable position of losing the people he loves. But this moment makes me wonder if he might actually be starting to fall for me.
“I like being able to take care of you.”
Jett leans down now, and places a kiss on my forehead, sending a flurry of warm, fuzzy feelings through me. When he pulls away, his gaze is still fixed on me, on my mouth, and then his lips are on mine, capturing me in a kiss that goes all the way down to my toes.
His lips are tender and soft, gentle and caring, a different kind of kiss than any of the others we’ve shared before, and something behind my ribs swells.
All I can do is let out a sigh when our mouths separate, my mind a jumbled mess of thoughts that I can’t put into a coherent sentence. I barely have a moment to think, before Jett has put his arm around my neck and pulls me close so he can whisper in my ear.
The reverberation of his voice against the shell of my ear causes goosebumps to cover my arms, and I shiver at the warmth of his breath.
“I missed you, wife,” he murmurs so that only I can hear.
Despite the show I’m positive he’s putting on for whoever is in the café, that moment is just for me. I’m still too stunned to think of anything to say, when Jett pulls away from me and asks, “Do you have time to go upstairs?”
I nod and turn towards Ethan to let him know I’m stepping away for a minute. He gives me a knowing look and returns to the order he’s busy taking.
Jett follows me up the stairs at the back of the café, his hand finding the curve of my ass behind me as I make my way up to my apartment. He gives it a light smack on my snug jeans, pulling a giggle from my throat.
I let us both into my apartment and shut the door behind me once we’re inside.
Jett paces around my apartment, as I lean my back against the door, my hands behind me. I watch him, his energy almost untameable, almost desperate. He stops pacing and looks at me from where he’s standing in the middle of my kitchen. He’s breathing hard and fast, his eyes wild.
“What did you want to talk about?” I ask, almost teasing, because I have a feeling it’s the last thing Jett wants to do.
“I don’t want to talk,” he says, confirming my suspicions.
The corner of my mouth tugs upward, thinking back to all the things he told me he wanted to do to me when he got home. The way he described kissing every inch of my body, touching me in all the places I’ve only just discovered.
“I want to do all the things we talked about, Poppy. I’ve had to control myself for so long while I was away, and now I need it, I need you. All of you.”
“It’s only been three days,” I point out, still with the teasing lilt in my tone.
Jett flashes me a withering glare.
“Too long when you’re sending me those pictures.”
I give him a contemplative nod. “Fair.”
He crosses the kitchen so quickly, I haven’t stopped nodding before he’s cupping my face in his hands, kissing me as if he’s been starved of me. As if this is the only thing he’s been capable of thinking about for the last three days.
His kiss is more demanding now, fervent and needy. His hands tilt my jaw up to give him more access to my mouth as his tongue sweeps across my bottom lip and slips inside.
The feeling of his tongue rolling against mine makes my knees weak, and I place my hands behind me on the door to steady myself. I think I’d be happy if Jett was the only man I ever kissed.
Jett sweeps his hands his down the length of my body, and under my ass, gripping my thighs as he lifts me off my feet with ease. I wrap my legs around his waist, and he’s lifting me away from the door, taking me towards the bedroom.
I plant my lips on his cheek, his jaw, the soft spot beneath it, digging my hands into his hair, and then he’s setting me down on the crocheted blanket I have spread out on my bed. He’s standing over me, regarding me from between my legs with a look on his face I can only describe as hunger.
He reaches for the button on my jeans, undoing it with a quick twist of his hand, and not stopping to undo the zipper before he yanks them down over my hips, taking my underwear with them.
I lift my sweater off, Jett watching me in rapt attention, and I thank my past self for putting on the black lace bra today.
I had done it with the intention of sending him another risqué photo, but this is even better.
Because the expression on his face seeing it in person?
I never knew that I could be addicted to a single look.
He lifts his own shirt off over his head, and my eyes rake over all the ridges and hard lines of his pecks, his abs. Oh god. He even has those lines on his abs that disappear below his belt, forming an invisible V.
I should feel insecure—my boobs are so small they’re almost flat—but there’s nothing judgemental on Jett’s face. No, he’s looking at me with pure admiration.
“Show me what you’ve been learning while I’ve been away,” he says, and I think he wants me to touch myself for him.
From where he’s standing, my pussy is fully bared to him, and he has an unobstructed view. So, I slide my hand down between my thighs and start to make the circles around my clit I’ve come to enjoy so much. I’m already wet, just Jett’s gaze on me alone making my body yearn for him.
I let myself relax into the moment, massaging my slick sex. My head falls back on the bed, my eyes close, and I hear Jett remove his belt, the soft sound of his pants falling to the floor. When I look back at him, his length is already hard.
I can almost feel my pupils dilate as my breath hitches. It’s the first time I’ve seen a man like this, and I fear the sight of Jett’s perfect body might ruin me for all others.
He fists his cock, stroking up and down the length of it as he rolls on a condom, but his eyes are fixed on my face, not what my hands are doing.
“Are you sure about this?” He asks me, and I appreciate that he cares enough to double check. It’s a big moment, and for so long I’ve wanted it to be right, to be with just the right person… I never predicted that person would be Jett, but now? I wouldn’t have it any other way.
I nod, chewing on the inside of my bottom lip.
Maybe I should be more nervous about this.
Maybe I should have gasped at the size of Jett’s dick and worried more about the logistics of…
this. But instead of fluttering nerves in my gut there’s just calm.
Because all the ways that Jett has cared for me over the past few weeks, lets me know he’ll take care of me now, too.
Jett removes my hands and places them on the bed as he leans over me, resting his forehead against mine.
“You’ll tell me if anything doesn’t feel good,” he says it as a statement rather than a question, because I will. At this point, there’s nothing I wouldn’t be comfortable telling him. But I nod again to reassure him.
He keeps his face close to mine, his gaze roaming over my features as he guides his cock to nudge at my entrance. My mouth opens in surprise, as his tip pushes into me, the sensation new and foreign, but fucking incredible.
But Jett notices my expression and stops. He’s watching for my reaction, his deep brown eyes darting between mine to gauge how I’m feeling about this, and I give him a soft smile to let him know it’s okay. It’s better than okay.
I’ve been ready for this moment for a long time, and now that it’s happening, I don’t know how I ever waited so long. Still, the way Jett is looking at me, I would have waited a lot longer if I knew it would be like this. If it would be with him.
He slides in further, and the slow way he stretches me creates a delicious friction against my walls. I let out a moan as he eases into me until he’s fully seated inside. And then he slides back out, not fully, but the sensation of him moving in me causes me to see stars.
“Fuck, you feel amazing,” he rasps.
I don’t know what to say in these circumstances. You too? Right back at ya?
But before I can say anything, Jett thrusts into me again, and my mind clears of all thought, of all language.
I feel like I’m floating, watching us from above as he leans back, standing at the foot of the bed, our bodies still connected. At this angle he has full access to me, and he uses the pad of his thumb to circle my clit.
My back arches off the bed, as he strokes me inside and out. Warm threads of pleasure unfurl and unwind through my body, extending into my limbs and somehow, beyond me. I’ve come to learn this feeling, to know that my release is close.
When I peer up at Jett, his expression has shifted, from hunger and desire to satiation and lust. That’s what sends me over the edge, the way he’s watching my pussy take him. The way he’s getting off on watching my body writhe and buck beneath him.
My pleasure is his aphrodisiac, his undoing.
And God, being in this moment with him is a privilege.
My orgasm tears through my core, every muscle tightening and clenching and singing his praises. I cry out a word that sounds like his name, and he responds with a shudder and a groan that lets me know he’s found his release, too.
Jett slumps over me, his hand finding the angle of my jaw, fingers gripping the back of my neck as he pulls me in for a kiss. It’s tender and soft, and something swells within me.
“Thank you, Poppy,” Jett whispers into the space between us.
“For what?” I ask.
His dark irises glisten as they dart between my eyes.
“For letting me be your first.”
He places his lips softly on my forehead before pulling away from me and retreating to the bathroom. I scoot up the bed and bask in my post-orgasmic glow.
When Jett returns, he’s got a warm washcloth in hand and he lays next to me, his body matching the outline of mine from behind. He cleans me up, all while planting gentle kisses on my shoulder.
When he’s done, he pulls the blanket at the foot of the bed over us both and wraps me in his arms. We settle into each other, enjoying the soft comfort of our bodies pressed against each other, the hazy afternoon light streaming through my sheer curtains.
I turn myself around in his arms to face him. His eyes are closed, and I brush a dark brown tendril of hair away from his forehead. He blinks his eyes open to look at me, a sated smile tugging at his mouth.
“Do you give all the women you sleep with this kind of treatment?” I ask.
Picturing Jett flirting, picking up women is easy, but I’ve never stopped to think about how he acts once the deed is done.
Wren’s words have been niggling at the back of my mind, and I know she’s right about me being inexperienced, there’s this other voice in my head telling me that might have been just as special for him as it was for me.
“Not all of them,” he answers, his voice sleepy and relaxed. I don’t know how to feel about it, or what he really means.
“Just the ones that stand out from the crowd?” I tease.
“No,” he says. “Just you.”