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Blake hadn’t come after her, and she didn’t know if she should feel relief or disappointment. She felt ashamed for what they had done in the living room, but she also felt immense heat still coursing through her. Blake had made her feel alive, without the regret of the past two years dragging her further down into a dark abyss.
A look at the clock beside the bed showed it was going on one in the morning, yet Poppy lay wide awake. Her body still thrummed with remembered pleasure at the hands of Blake. She knew she wouldn’t stay alone for the rest of her life—at least she hoped that wasn’t the case—but the desire she felt wasn’t for a stranger she just met. No, it was for Jon’s brother.
She rolled onto her belly and buried her face in the pillow. She supposed it was inevitable for her to feel like this for Blake. He had been the one to talk her through her hardest times, and she now lived with him. Flopping onto her back again, she exhaled loudly. She wouldn’t be able to sleep, not when her breasts felt impossibly full and a low throb settled between her thighs. Poppy got up and slid her feet into a pair of slippers. Maybe something to drink would settle her raging body and mind.
The house was quiet when she slipped out of her room and headed toward the kitchen. The subtle noises of the house seemed amplified. The wood creaked beneath her feet, the clock ticked away the seconds on the wall, and all of it was like a chorus of music that surrounded her. Maybe she was just overly aware of everything. Maybe she was just strung too tight. After grabbing and drinking a glass of water, she leaned against the counter and stared out the window.
It looked incredibly cold outside, especially the way the frost glistened like crystals under the moonlight. She filled her glass again and headed back to her room, but she found herself stopping in front of Blake’s door. It stood partially open, and like some kind of creep, she peeked inside, expecting to find him asleep in the massive bed.
The feel of her heart thundering in her chest was a result of seeing the empty bed, and before she could race back to her room and hide, the bathroom door opened, and Blake stepped out, their eyes locking.
Despite the chill in the air, he only wore a pair of plaid fleece pants. The moonlight speared through the open doorway and bathed his bare chest. Hard planes of muscle covered every inch of his broad chest, and because she couldn’t help herself, Poppy let her eyes travel lower. A line of dark hair started below his belly button and made a trail down his rippling abdomen to disappear beneath his pants.
The low throb that had been present between her thighs now became a fierce pounding that demanded to be noticed. Blake hadn’t moved. In fact, he seemed just as frozen to the spot as she did.
“I—” he started and took a step closer. “I’m sorry about earlier.” His voice was low and filled with emotion. He stopped, and she saw his hands clenched at his sides.
The fear was strong at the fact that she wanted Blake so intensely. It caused a desperate need inside her. Could she actually surrender to her wants and give herself to a man who so clearly wanted her as well?
The thick bulge behind the thin material of his bottoms was a testament to how her presence affected him as well. Poppy didn’t say anything, couldn’t have even if she’d been able to form words.
“No, Blake.” A look of pain crossed his face, and she hated that she was the one to put it there. She should turn around and flee to her room, go to sleep and forget all about what she wanted right now, but instead, she took a step closer, and another until they stood toe-to-toe. The force of his breathing brushed across her face, ruffling the tendrils of her hair in a minty caress.
His chest rose and fell quick and hard, and the pulse at the base of his throat beat wildly. Was her need just as evident as his?
Her hands shook, but she lifted them anyway and placed them tentatively on his belly. The hard muscles clenched under her palm, and she slid her hands up the rolling, defined hills of his abdomen and rested them on each of his pecs. The beat of his heart was strong and steady, so unlike her rapidly pounding one.
“Poppy?” Her name came out as a whispered question. She didn’t stop or answer. If she derailed from what she wanted to do, she wouldn’t be able to regain her strength.
She leaned into him, felt the heat from his body seep into hers, and closed her eyes. It felt good to feel warmth. For a long time, all she felt was a coldness that stole her breath and left her numb. Blake made her feel cozy, and heated, and alive.
