Page 56 of One Day Fiance


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She nods stiffly. As I head for the door, she calls out my name. “Connor!”

I pause, turning back to look at her, hoping she tells me to come back while praying she tells me to go. She looks so fucking sexy, with her red hair mussed from my fingers and her lips puffy from my kisses. I’m surprised I haven’t busted out of my jeans already. “Yeah?”

“Nine o’clock. I’ll be at your truck.”

I grunt an agreement and flee to my house. I do a quick safety check, but there are no alerts. Everything is safe.

Except the woman whose home I’m staring at through the kitchen window’s open blinds. In the shadows of my house, she can’t see me. But I can see her, going back and sitting at the table, looking dazed and confused. Me too, woman. Me fucking too.

She presses her fingers to her lips as though feeling me still there.

And then she smiles, reaching down to cup her breast through her T-shirt the way I did moments ago. Her head drops back as she finds a stiff nipple and pinches herself.

I don’t think, I act. Reaching down, I fumble my belt open and my jeans down, my dick springing forth as my eyes fix on the sight of what Poppy’s doing.

I can’t hear anything, of course, and the angle of the table and the window don’t allow me to see everything . . . but I can imagine. Just like she creates dialogues and scenes for her characters, I fill in the gaps as I take my cock in hand, pumping slowly.

“That’s it,” I whisper, my thumb smearing the slick precum already oozing from my tip around the head of my cock. “Play with your nipples.”

Though she can’t hear the order, she does it naturally, one hand massaging her breasts while the other dips below the table to do the same thing I’m doing over here. I can’t tear my eyes away, matching her stroke for stroke as we rise together.

In my mind, her plump, luscious lips form words of desire and want as she starts rising up and down in her chair.

I don’t know how I do it, keep myself going without rushing back to her, but we go faster and faster until, with a cry that I can actually hear between our two houses, she comes with a shaking spasm and I growl deeply at the sexy sight.

My cock is about to explode, and I ride that edge of pain and pleasure as long as I can before I erupt, hot spurts of my cum splattering all over the kitchen cabinets and floor. There’s no trying to hold this back, no trying to save the mess with the power of my release.

My knees unlock, and I have to plant my hand on the edge of the countertop to prevent myself from dropping to the floor. Gasping and feeling my heart pound in my chest, I blink slowly to clear the stars in my vision.

Holy fucking shit.

I can’t move for long moments, my body shaky from what I just did. Finally, with weak legs, I find a dish rag and wipe up the mess.

When I’m sure everything is cleaned up, I throw the rag into the laundry room and wash my hands. While I suds up, I look out the window once more to see that Poppy’s not in her kitchen anymore. But the dining room light is on.

“Good girl. Get some work done.”

I don’t know what romantic bullshit ideas she’s planted in my head, but for some reason, I blow her a kiss. And then promptly, I shake my head at the ridiculous move. I can’t even see her, but I’m going soft-hearted.

What I need to do is take a hot shower and get a good night’s sleep so I’m strong enough to resist Poppy tomorrow. And get her laptop back.

“See you in the morning.”

Chapter 14

Poppy

I’m a little bleary, but so happy and relieved that I don’t mind it. After Connor left and I took a few minutes to relieve my immediate tension, I changed clothes and got to writing. And other than stopping to take the boys out to do their business and eat a trio of granola bars, I didn’t stop working until three in the morning.

Three whole chapters. I almost never get three chapters done in a single writing session. They’ll need editing, lots of it, but I can finally feel it. The writer’s block is totally dissolved, all the juices flowing, the characters talking, the moments building into overlapping layers.

But now it’s morning. And I’m running late, rolling out of bed fifteen minutes ago to scrub the fuzz off my teeth and let the boys out to do their thing while drinking my first cup of coffee.

Connor said we’d go back to the pawn shop, and I need my laptop so I can weave the manuscript and what I’ve written on this cheap backup together into one master file.

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