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I want her. I want to throw her on this table and bury myself deep inside of her. I want to watch her eyes roll back in pleasure.
My cock has never been so hard.
Watching her lick her lips after eating the food I made is a new form of foreplay. All the while, I imagine her licking other things.
Cool it! I mentally tell my cock.
It’s been a long time since I trusted a woman, heck, even wanted to talk to one. I was career-focused. Still am, but Poppy is a curve ball. She’s something special, and I’m not going to let it pass by because my life is a fucking mess right now. It’s selfish, but I’m going to make it worth it for her.
Talking with Pumpkin is just so…simple. When I dated Courtney, it was like nails on a chalkboard sometimes. All she talked about was herself, what she did, and what she wanted me to do for her. She talked about how my family name got us into places she always wanted to go to, like the country club that my dad was a member of. She talked about how she met Carla Higgins, who is a sales associate at Chanel, which made Courtney continually drop hints about the Chanel bag she wanted for Christmas.
I was just an accessory with a rich family name and a deep bank account for Courtney. I should have seen it, but to be honest, the sex was good. Sounds bad, but it’s the truth. I was young and deployed; it was nice coming home to sex until I learned she was cheating around. That’s when I grew up overnight. That’s when respect outweighed sex.
Kent still hasn’t learned that lesson yet. He will.
“You should have told me to make dessert, not just bring wine. I feel like you did too much work.” Poppy says.
I want you to be the dessert.
“I’ll confess, I bought dessert. I hope you like cheesecake,” I admit.
Her face lights up, igniting a spark of triumph within me.
Mentally high-fiving myself, I carefully file away the fact that she also likes cheesecake.
“I like your strategy: carbs for dinner but protein for dessert.” She says with a sassy flare in her eyes.
“Huh?” My forehead wrinkles as she helps me clear the dishes and put them back on the tray.
“Cheesecake. It’s got cheese in it, so technically, it's a protein. So it’s healthy.” She smiles.
Fuck, that smirk. I want to take a picture and look at it whenever I’m in a shitty mood. It’s stunning. She even has a small dimple on her right cheek that doesn’t always show.
I laugh again. I’ve never laughed on a date. “I wish every woman thought like you.”
Where the hell have you been all my life, Poppy? You eat carbs and think cake is healthy. I love it. I could see myself loving you.
That last thought scares the shit out of me. How the hell did I go from not wanting a relationship to cooking dinner and hanging twinkle lights for a woman?
Poppy Moore is how.
You’re lying to her; you are going to ruin something that could be great. My subconscious pokes me.
I’m going to be honest. One day…just not today.
Chapter 34
Poppy
Monday morning blues are not in my vocabulary. My date on Friday with Julian will go down in my top three dates, with slots two and three yet to be filled.
We ended the evening as refined as possible, with a make-out session in front of my door. It was he who stopped, stepped back, dipped his chin, and wished me sweet dreams.
I spent Sunday online shopping. I finally feel like I want to wear clothes that don’t hide my body. While browsing, I chatted with Harper. She’s severely jet-lagged since returning from France, her voice heavy and slow over the phone. I told her all about my date, including the twinkle lights that were Kent’s idea. She told me Julian seemed like the real deal, so I better not mess it up and adopt a cat that would scare him off.
There is one other person with whom I would have loved to share my news in another life. In that life, he would have been guarded and protective over me. I’d watch him cringe as I told him about my date, and even though he hated hearing the news, I would have waited eagerly to seek his approval.
My brother Henry.
