AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Maybe it was my fault? Maybe I’m overreacting? I was at a bar with a guy. I should have stayed in the library. We only went to the bar because I was hungry and suggested we get lunch.
You’re so stupid, Poppy.
“I didn’t mean to make you think that, but I don’t like how you treated me, Andrew. It scared me.”
He nods, “It scared me, too.” He presses his forehead against mine. “I love you, Poppy.”
He has said this before, and I know he’s been waiting for me to say it back. I want to say those special words when the time is right when I truly feel that way. I know it makes him upset that I haven’t said it back. The guilt of my choices from today just causes me to blurt it out more as an apology than what the words truly symbolize.
“I love you, too.” I finally say, but my words have never felt so empty.
Chapter 40
Poppy
It's been two weeks since I no longer have to conceal my wide smiles and blushing cheeks whenever Julian enters my office. Two weeks of him bringing me coffee and breakfast every morning and dates that seem to end too soon.
Two weeks of being Julian Sterling's girlfriend.
The initial week was clouded with my own insecurities and fears. Concerns about how others would perceive me lingered in my mind. Harper advised me not to give a flying damn about what people think. She even went as far as sending me a custom-made shirt that read, ‘I’m fucking my boss, and I like it. Jealous? I know you are.’ Julian loved it and couldn’t stop laughing. It’s because of that shirt that Julian and I took our first selfie together.
That shirt will never leave this apartment, though, because I'm not wired like Harper. I do care about perceptions outside of my apartment, a trait deeply ingrained in me by my last relationship. That relationship was like a mold, crafted over months through false love mixed with manipulative abuse. I wish I could break free from this mold as effortlessly as Andrew moved on, leaving me for another unfortunate girl. I wish I could, and I believe I will one day. With every moment spent with Julian, I feel tiny cracks forming in my mold, gradually turning into fractures. I know, eventually, it will crumble.
I braced myself for judgmental glances and whispers from HR, expecting to feel like a scarlet letter was emblazoned on my chest.
#Imdatingmyboss
#Imthatgirl
But the reality was the opposite. Hannah, the head of HR, was incredibly sweet. She spoke fondly of Julian's mother, saying how proud she would be of Julian, not just for his service to the country but also to his family. Then, she recounted to Julian how much his father missed him. From Julian's curt nods, I sensed he would rather hear these sentiments from his father directly, not through the head of HR.
Our dates have been... comfortable. After everything I've been through, 'comfortable' means the world to me. I don’t feel like I'm on the verge of embarrassing Julian with my unfiltered sentences, love of seasonal spices, or pajamas. He doesn’t tell me to avoid my friends because he disapproves of them. Instead, most of our dates, usually at his place or mine, have been down-to-earth. We talk about our friends, what's important in our lives, and our future aspirations. We also kiss a lot. And the touch? It’s been growing to an unbearable level of losing control. I keep waiting for the moment my mind slams on the break and freaks out. It hasn’t yet so sleekly. Every night, Julian comes over to say goodnight, and we push new boundaries.
Like last night…
"Lay down, Pumpkin," he purrs, steering my shoulders back until I'm lying on my bed.
I bite my lip and do as he says. Slowly, he bends down and grabs my ankles, bringing them up to the mattress. His eyes watch me with a mix of lust and caution. I nod for him to continue.
"What are you doing?" I whisper, my breath already labored from his gentle touch.
His hands still hold my ankles like silken ribbons. He raises a brow, and my heart panics as he straddles me.
"Kissing you goodnight,” he states with a glint of mischief sparkling in his eyes. His hands inch up from my ankles to my knees, then part my thighs.
"Julian," I gasp, feeling my core flush with wetness.
"I want to taste you, Pumpkin," he says, hesitating, waiting for me to deny him.
I dig my fingers into the sheets, worried over what I’ll taste like. I part my lips, waiting for my mind to recall memories and tell him to stop.
No words come.
Julian continues. He begins to kiss my inner thigh. Oh, heavens and earth! He’s not even there yet, and I can barely act sane.
"Julian," I moan as his fingers grab my silk pajama shorts and yank them down.
His fingers glide up and run over my pussy. A slow grin of utter satisfaction covers his handsome face. "Look how wet you are for me, Poppy. It must be torture to be so ready to take my cock yet be so empty." He pushes two thick fingers inside of me.
