Slipping out of bed, Poppy couldn’t stand lying still staring at the ceiling any longer. She crept through the closed curtains into her grandmother’s bay window. The moon and stars illuminated the view. It was beautiful. Until saying it to Zoey, Poppy hadn’t realized just how much she took all of it for granted. She was guilty of that on more than one front.
Grammie had tried to tell her that it was important not to be complacent about her feelings for Turner or his reciprocation of them. Being together wouldn’t be easy, but it had been her dream. Why was she flouting their chance? As proved by the deaths of her grandfather and Turner’s dad, people could be gone at any moment.
Maybe that was why she couldn’t sleep. Her lace-trimmed navy negligee wasn’t the type of thing she’d usually go scampering around the house in without a robe, but she didn’t pause to retrieve one after leaving the window to cross Grammie’s suite.
Poppy couldn’t sleep because there was something on her mind: Turner.
Tiptoeing to his bedroom, she held her breath while opening the door as quietly as possible. It wasn’t that she was ashamed of wanting to see him or that her parents would object if they caught her sneaking into his room, Poppy just didn’t want fanfare. She went into his room, closed the door, and paused to admire him sleeping on his side in the middle of the bed.
Just like in her bedroom, in the times she’d come home from work to find him asleep in her bed. The first time she’d snuck into bed with him, she’d told herself it wasn’t sexual. Poppy wasn’t so naïve or deluded anymore. Getting into bed with him could lead to anything. She was attracted to him and didn’t doubt his attraction to her.
Still, she went around to the far side of the bed and slipped under the covers at his back. Sex in her grandmother’s house wouldn’t be a good idea. Although it was an old house, there were cracks for sound to escape all around the doors and the hallway was an echo chamber. Poppy was careful in sliding closer and settling on her side, she didn’t want to wake him, that wouldn’t be fair when he had to work the next day. But draping her arm over his waist, she already felt more relaxed. Sleep would find her there, with him, where she was safe, happy, content. Turner’s arrival might have been a surprise, but it was no surprise that he was her security. Loving him was easy, making it work would be a whole other ballgame.
The intrusive chime of an alarm jammed itself into her consciousness. Groaning, Poppy squeezed her eyes closed, wishing the new day away. An alarm, she hated alarms, they meant work. Except…
Her head hadn’t got to the present when his mouth touched hers. Warmth became heat became need; it happened fast, though there wasn’t any urgency. The gentle brush of lips, the teasing as they parted, the calm sweep of his tongue across hers, it was all slow, deliberate, not hasty or rushed.
“Mmm, baby,” she whispered when he kissed the curve of her jaw. “I’ve changed my mind.”
“You have?” he breathed against her neck, kissing his way south.
“I like alarms,” Poppy purred, pushing up to welcome his kiss in her cleavage.
His mouth trailed across her breast. Peeling the delicate fabric away, his tongue sought her nipple, circling and suckling, reminding her of every second they’d missed when they should’ve been together.
No underwear. Her man didn’t wear underwear, which meant… Coiling one leg up over his hip, she did her best to tempt him closer. Coercing him didn’t take a lot of effort, he rose to settle himself between her thighs like it was his home.
That was what she wanted to be, his home. “Turner,” she whispered, opening her fingers in his hair, pushing his mouth deeper into her breast.
He resisted her duress with little effort. “You should’ve woken me up when you came to bed,” he said, his strong hands tightening on her waist. “Damn, I fucking need this body.”
“Then take it,” she said, smiling when he rose to gaze down at her.
“Sex? In your parents’ house?”
“It’s Grammie’s house,” she said, squeezing his shoulders, testing the resistance of his muscles.
Throwing caution to the wind had never been encouraged in the Granger house. Not by her parents anyway.
“Don’t make the mistake of thinking I’ll go easy,” he said.