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“Bloody hell,” I grumble and turn over onto my back.
I stare at the ceiling, wondering why I’m still thinking about her. I don’t usually think about my clients after the job is done. Even if they ask for another date. I learned early on that if I thought about my clients past our time together, worrying if I did it right, I’d lose my shit.
I could only do my best and hope they felt the same way.
But never did I experience a client tattooed in my mind. Poppy is still in my brain. Her scent is still around me despite my hard-core shower earlier, and my cock is aching. I realize that I’m not going to get any sleep like this, so I pull down my joggers and take out my cock. I instantly feel relief when I grab my cock and start stroking.
I try to imagine some faceless woman to get off to, but all I see is Poppy. Her shy smile and big brown eyes. I’m sitting in a chair, watching her walk over to me in her pink dress. She stands between my legs and lets me touch her. I caress her legs and run my hands up her thigh until I reach her panties. I pull them down as she slips off her dress. Her naked body stands before me. Her breasts and soft stomach. I kiss her there, then pull her onto my lap. She straddles me, and her pussy is wet and inviting. I sink into her heat and hear her cry out. Placing her hands on my shoulders, she begins to bounce up and down on my cock. Her tits sway, and she pants. Her eyes are closed, and her face is bliss.
I jerk my cock faster as she picks up the pace in my dream. My hand is nowhere near as soft as I imagine her to be, but it’ll have to do. I add our kissing into the fantasy, and it nearly does me in. I slow down, trying to savour this moment. Her warm body presses against mine as I thrust into her. I groan as I think about her running her hands up and down my arms, over my chest. I feel her nails scraping against my skin like a little sex kitten. She mewls, and I tell her what a good girl she is.
“Yes, that’s it, baby. You’re such a good girl. Does my cock feel good in your little tight little pussy, kitten? Do you want to come?”
I squeeze my cock harder as I imagine her pussy squeezing me. My free hand reaches back and grabs my headboard. I’m about to shoot off when her face pops into my head. She’s leaning close to me, and the tip of my thumb is in her mouth. She looks at me with those innocent eyes, and I lose it. Hot cum sprays against my chest and all over my hand.
Bloody hell.
When I’m done, I go and clean myself up. I thought I’d feel better afterward, but it wasn’t as satisfying as if it was real.
The only good thing is I can sleep now. But that doesn’t stop me from having dreams about Poppy and thinking about the next time I can see her.
Because there will be a next time. You can count on that.
Poppy Davenport is mine.
Chapter 9
Poppy
“So,whatdoyouthink?” My sister twirls around in her wedding dress.
“It’s gorgeous,” I say with a smile.
It’s a floor-length silk gown with lace sleeves and a deep V-neck. Plus, it has a ribbon around it tied into a pretty bow. The woman assisting us puts on Colette’s veil, and I swear I almost start crying.
She’s so pretty.
I’m so happy for my sister. She was the young rebel who exclusively dated douchebags until landing the quarterback of the football team in college. She told me that it was a bit of a struggle at first. Colette wasn’t scared, but Mark was so stable and persistent that she got over it and fell madly in love with him.
And now, in just a week, they’re getting married.
As the maid of honour, it was my job to get everything set up and ready. I got the bridesmaid dresses, booked the venue, catering, guests, and DJ, and even checked the weather on the off chance it rained. I know what to do. We could've hired someone to be in charge, but my sister was nervous about anyone else organizing it, including our mother. So I took up the mantle.
As I stare at the smooth white dress, my mind drifts off to fantasy land, where I’m walking down the aisle to Tyler, who stands under an arch in a suit, smiling at me. I close my eyes, and I feel the kiss against my lips, making them tingle. So does another part of me. When my hands were pressed up against his chest, I felt the muscles beneath him and imagined what he looked like naked. I saw a tattoo peeking from under his collar and dreamt about opening up his shirt and following the black ink with my tongue that night.
This issonot me.
Lusting after a man after one night? Surely, it takes more than just one date to feel the way I do. To feel like you’ve found the piece of your puzzle, the second half of your heart. Your fish in the sea.
They say absence makes the heart grow fonder, and I feel like I’m a walking embodiment of a fond heart. Every day I’m without Tyler, I yearn for more. I want to call him, but I don’t have his number. Just the number of the agency.
I thought I just needed sleep after our wonderful night together, and I’d get over this feeling in my chest. Still, instead of going away, it’s become stronger. Now I stare at my phone every night, thinking about calling him.
“… so who are you bringing to the wedding?” my sister asks.
Dammit, I didn’t even think of that!
“Um, I don’t really know. Don’t worry about it. I’ll think of someone.”
