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If people had stopped looking at us, I had definitely just garnered the attention of the ones around us again. Because that rant seemed to get louder as I kept going. But I refuse to back down. I’m tired of getting treated like shit, only for him to shut himself down again.
“If you’re going to put some sort of weird possessive caveman claim on me,” I say, grinding the words out so I don’t yell, “you damn well better be ready to follow through.”
He looks down at me, his nostrils flared as he breathes heavily, trying to contain whatever emotion I just set off inside of him.
“You want me to follow through, Poppy?” he asks, that gravel voice turning into a growl.
I swallow. Do I?
“Yes,” I breathe.
He chuckles darkly.
“Alright, then. Just remember, you asked for it.”
And then he’s tugging me toward the back door.
I yankher across the dance floor and through the crowd of people. I can’t wait any longer. I need to know what that mouth feels like against my own. But I refuse to have our first kiss happen with an audience. I want it quiet so that I can hear all her little moans I know she’s going to give me.
When I push open the back door, the chill of the night air wraps around us. There’s no one out here, but I round the corner just in case anyone else decides to come out here to smoke or something. And the second we’re out of the line of sight, I push her against the wood siding. My thigh slips between hers, and my girl settles there like she’s desperate for that little bit of pressure.
“I’m going to kiss you now,” I tell her as my hands wrap around her neck and then weave into the short strands of her hair. I tug, and her mouth drops open just enough that her pink tongue can come out and lick the plump bottom lip.
God, she’s gorgeous. Since coming here, her skin has broken out with a million freckles, and they’re dotted all over her nose, cheeks, and forehead. And her eyes are a gorgeous honey-green color, even in the low light we’re in now. They draw me in like a moth to a flame.
“Follow through, then, Rhett.”
Her voice is husky and filled with desire. My cock twitches and begs to come to life as her soft body rubs against my own.
Finally, I lean over her and hover over her lips. Her eyes close, and she lifts her chin just slightly up toward me. She’s begging for it, and I’m tired of holding back. I’m ready to follow through and give her exactly what she wants.
Our lips meet, softly at first. They’re pillowy soft, and when she parts them for me, my tongue sweeps in and claims her. She tastes just as sweet as she smells, and my cock hardens. Her hips roll against me, rubbing her sweet jean-covered pussy on my thigh. And now all I can think about is how I could make her come, right here, right now. I could have that piece of her. And surely, that would tide me over.
If I could just hear her moan out my name, that would get me through the night.
Her hands grab hold of my shirt, fisting in the fabric as they tug me closer. Our mouths move against each other more insistently. Our teeth clash together, and I swallow her little sighs and moans with each swipe of my tongue. I devour her, fucking her mouth just like I want to fuck her cunt.
“Poppy,” I groan as I pull back just slightly. Her lips are wet and swollen, and her eyes are heavy with lust as she looks up at me. Those pupils are blown wide, and her fingers run through the scruff on my jaw. “I’m gonna make you come now.”
Her eyes widen in surprise, like all she expected was a little kiss. God, she has no idea what she has awoken inside of me.
“We’re in public.” Her voice is barely above a whisper.
I just grin and pull her back to me for another kiss.
“That won’t stop me from making you shout my name as you come, poppyseed.”
I grab hold of the front of her jeans, pulling them even tighter against her so that all the pressure is on her clit. She gasps, and her head falls forward to my chest.
“Oh, my god.”
“You’re going to grind that sweet little pussy on my thigh until you come shoutin’ out my name. Okay, Poppy?”
When she looks up at me, her face and neck have turned bright red. For someone with so much attitude, she sure is embarrassed easily.
I tug on her jeans again.
“Answer me.”
