“Don’t get into the discussion of my mouth again. We’ve already had this conversation once, and if you need a reminder, then you don’t deserve to know what my mouth can do.”
I didn’t need a reminder. I could well imagine it. Not that I was in a position to be imagining it while lying on the beach in a pair of shorts, but there I was, imagining it.
Wondering what it’d feel like to have her kneeling between my legs, her hand wrapped around the base of my cock while she played with the top with her mouth.
I adjusted my shorts, shifting uncomfortably on the sand. Poppy’s head turned the slightest amount, so she’d caught my movement. If the turn of her head wasn’t enough, the curve of her pouty, bright pink lips gave it away.
She’d be shit at poker. I knew that much.
“Look at me like that again, Red, and I’m gonna kiss the smirk off your lips.”
She snorted. “You wish.”
“Don’t test me.”
“You don’t scare me.”
“I don’t need to scare you, but I already know that your self-control is running low.”
Poppy propped herself up on one elbow and glared at me over the top of her glasses. She was lying there in her bikini, fingers pinched on the arm of her sunglasses—well, it was hard to take her seriously.
“And what do you know about my self-control, hockey boy?”
I rolled onto my side and kept my gaze on hers. “I know I could run my finger up the inside of your thigh and you’d squirm.”
“Of course I would. That’s a ticklish area.”
“I know could lean in and not even kiss your neck and you’d start breathing heavily, and that if I did kiss you, your nails would be digging into my skin.”
“If you’re trying to turn me on, it’s not working.” She replaced her glasses and dropped down again. “All you’re doing is making me want to take a nap, honestly. That lunch was stressful.”
“And that’s how you’re going to cope with it? By napping?”
“Isn’t that how everybody deals with stress? By sleeping and pretending it doesn’t really exist?”
Slowly, I shook my head. “No, Red. Most people, I don’t know. I work out.”
“Yeah, well, that sounds like too much exercise for me.” She sniffed. “I’d rather nap, then eat a pint of ice cream and deal with it tomorrow.”
“That would be more beneficial if your mom wasn’t here today.” I chuckled. “Come on. It wasn’t as bad as you’re making out and you know it.”
She sniffed, rolling onto her stomach. “I can’t talk to you when you’re being this unreasonable.”
Laughing, I reached over her. With a big tug, I pulled her onto her back once more and straddled her, pinning her in this position. I didn’t need her to remove her glasses to know that she was glaring at me as if I’d just kicked her puppy.
“I’m unreasonable?” I asked, running my hands down her arms. My fingers toyed with her palms until I slipped them between hers. “You’re the one making a fuss out of absolutely nothing.”
“Absolutely nothing? We barely escaped through the skin of our teeth.”
“Maybe in Poppyville. In the real world, she believed everything we said and drank three of those margaritas.” I quirked one eyebrow. “You’re just annoyed because she likes me. You all but admitted it a few minutes ago.”
“Fine. I’m annoyed she likes you. But not just because I have to fake break up with you. I’m not used to her liking my boyfriends. Real or otherwise.”
“Boyfriends? You mean more than one person has put up with your drama for real?”
“If you weren’t sitting on me I’d kick you in the balls,” she threatened, wiggling beneath me.
My dick twitched. “I’d stop moving if I were you.”
“No.” She wriggled harder.
With a jerk, I pulled her with me as I rolled onto my back. She squealed, and as she came down on top of me, I wrapped my arms around her back, our hands still clasped.
“I am not comfortable!” she snapped.
“Neither was I when you were wriggling under my cock,” I retorted.
“So, you’re going to dislocate my shoulders?”
“No. I’m just going to keep you here until you understand that I told you to stop wriggling for a reason.”
I swear she rolled her eyes.
“I know why you told me to stop, hockey boy,” she drawled. “I can feel it pressing against my stomach. It’s not exactly a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it penis, is it?”
I bit back a laugh. “That’s the strangest way anyone has ever told me I have a big cock.”
“I didn’t say it was big. I said it wasn’t small.” She paused. “For all you know, I was calling it mediocre.”
She was so full of shit, but damn, that sharp wit would kill me one day.
“All right, Red. Why don’t you put your money where your mouth is and we’ll go back to our room so I can show you just how mediocre it is when your pussy is wet and you’re begging me for more?”
Poppy squirmed, and I felt her legs clench together. “Actually, you know what, I remember promising Rosie I’d help her do something today.”
She forced her way out of my grip, and I smirked, letting my hands fall to the sides.
“You did, huh?”
She nodded. “Yeah, uh, something about that table plan Mom was interfering with.”
I sat up as she reached for her tank top and grabbed it. “And you just remembered.”
“Uh-huh. I’m forgetful. Forget everything. What can I say?” She tugged the shirt over her head and went to move.
I snatched her wrist and tugged her back to me. She squeaked out a weird sound, and I slipped my fingers into her hair and round the back of her head.
And kissed her.
Her nails instantly dug into my thigh as she leaned into me. She tasted of tequila and strawberries and ice cream and smelled like the sea. It was an addictive combination.
Or maybe it was just her who was addictive.
I released her with a graze of my teeth over her lower lip. “Forget that,” I murmured.
She opened her mouth, then stopped, shook her head, and scrambled up to her feet. The sand moved beneath her, almost making her trip, and I had to laugh into my hand, so she didn’t turn around and hit me.
Which, let’s face it, was probably something she’d do.
I watched her go, flicking her fiery hair over her shoulder. She glanced back, blushing when she realized I’d caught her looking, and jerked her gaze away just in time to avoid tripping over the bottom step.
Helping Rosie my ass.
All she was doing was helping herself keep her pants on—and my cock hard.
I rolled to my front, shifting my hips so my throbbing, hard cock wasn’t totally flat against the sand, and buried my face in my arms.
This was turning out to be a long weekend.
CHAPTER ELEVEN – POPPY
Clits and Clucks
I rubbed my hand down my face with one hand and set my glasses on top of my head with the other.
Oh. My. God.
Adam Winters was going to kill me.
It wouldn’t be my mother after all. Maybe my gravestone wouldn’t read that I was a liar. Maybe it would read that a red-hot hockey player made my clitoris explode with lust and that was how I died.
I mean, as long as I orgasmed first, I wasn’t against it.
Now, I’d lied to escape his sex God ways, and I was screwed. After seeing Rosie earlier, I did not want to be in the presence of the female equivalent to Godzilla. Unlike me, she was able to hold her temper.
Unfortunately, just like me, when she let it fly, it was a doozy, and everyone needed to evacuate the immediate area.
I tucked hair behind my ear and wandered through the lobby. I didn’t know if I was expecting her to pop out from behind a wall or something, but she didn’t. Leaning against the concierge’s desk, I pulled my phone out of my pocket and texted her.
Her response was a little too quick for my liking.
Rosie: Ballroom from last night. Done w lunch?
Me:…Yes
Rosie: Come here before I murder someone
Oh, goodie.