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“Get that bottle back out.” She pulled out a chair from beneath the table and sat down, reaching up to release her hair from the clip that held it.
His balls tightened as the curly mass fell around her shoulders, framing her face with the fiery silk.
“You used to puke when you got drunk,” he reminded her, but he got the bottle out anyway.
“I won’t get that drunk,” she breathed out roughly. “Just enough that I can handle this shit without crying. You know I hate crying, Jack.”
It only made her mad when she cried. The more the tears fell, the more furious she’d become with herself, as well as with the object of that anger.
“I know, Poppy.” He set the bottle down, then sat across from her. “Just let me know when.”
Let him know when she could handle it?
She didn’t think there was that much bourbon in the world. So, she was going to have to go for the next best thing. She’d just drink enough that she got madder, rather than weepy. Then she’d ask her questions.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Watching her closely as she sipped at the drink, his gaze narrowed on her, and yes, she could see the lust in his eyes. And she knew exactly what he was thinking about. Oh, she’d watched the way his eyes had gone all hot when she’d mentioned sucking his dick.
She’d only done it that once, and he hadn’t given her much time to learn how to do it.
“You should have taught me to do it properly,” she told him, sipping at her drink again. “You know, when you had the chance to.”
His gaze flicked from the drink to her lips, and she watched the way he swallowed with a hard, tight movement.
“Meaning?” he asked her carefully.
Oh, he knew exactly what she meant. Damn him.
Damn him, she hated this. She hated hurting like this, and she hated that hint of blue in his eyes that she’d always equated with his inner hurt.
“Lilith said she learned watching movies and using a vibrator to practice on.” And Lilith would completely kill her if she knew…
The basement door snapped closed behind her.
Poppy swung around but didn’t see anyone.
She turned back to Jack and tilted her head questioningly.
“Hank,” he murmured, lifting the beer to his lips. “He heard what you said. He’s all hot and bothered for Lilith. The conversation was likely too much for him.”
Poor Hank, she thought. Lilith would never trust a man enough to share that with him, she didn’t think. Her father had made certain of that. She shrugged.
Hank wasn’t her problem until he made a serious move on Lilith.
“So, back to what you were saying before that.” He cleared his throat. “You thought I should do what?”
She let a grin tug at her lips, despite the hurt she could feel waiting to push forward.
She took another gulp.
The flames that shot through her senses pushed the hurt back further.
“I tried to practice it with the toys and movies. They weren’t you, though, so I just felt silly,” she sighed.
He finished half a beer in one swallow, turned in his chair, opened the fridge, and grabbed another.
“You did fine without instruction,” he assured her.
