Turner. She’d wanted him from the moment she first caught herself checking out his ass. Everything about them together caused problems. Being with her violated his rules. Being with him violated everything Poppy had been taught to require in a partner.
But as her arms went around him and he rushed her back against the solid brick of his own building, she couldn’t deny what was inside her. Her infatuation grew to more than a craving. Her thirst for him increased even as his tongue slipped over the threshold of her mouth, giving itself to her. Only he wanted something in return. Their kiss was more than a battle, it was a culmination of every scandalous moment they’d shared.
She thought about the first rejection, when he’d first walked away from her and just how humiliated and dejected she’d been. Only being with him, near to him, erased that. He’d touched her. Just as the memory of the first time he’d held her breast returned, his hand slipped from her face to descend to that same place.
Poppy couldn’t pull herself back. Kissing him was the whole reason she’d been put on the earth. That was it. She understood the universe, the meaning of life, the omniscient creator. All of it made sense as his tongue slid over hers, teaching her that there was nothing more in the world than them. Turner was her purpose and she was his. They were all they’d ever need.
His hand didn’t stay on her breast for long. It kept on going down until he bent to scoop it under her thigh to pick her up. Coiling her legs around him, Poppy held on and kept kissing. They were moving, she knew that, but didn’t care about where they were going.
If Turner was with her, if he was the one taking her, she wanted to go. He’d never put her in peril. Kissing him taught her more about him. His passion, his care, he enlivened her with his urgency and softened her with his tenderness. Kissing didn’t describe what their mouths were doing. Their bodies were bonding, their souls uniting. Even realizing that truth didn’t feel corny, not when he pushed her back against something hard and fumbled between them.
She thought for a second that they were going to do it right there, wherever they were. Her dress gave him easy access.
Their height difference didn’t grant her the opportunity to arouse him in the way she’d like, not in other ways, in more intimate ways.
Her arms were all the way around him. Her legs clamped tight around his torso. Poppy had forgotten that she actually had control of anything other than her mouth. It seemed that her sole purpose was to respond to his kiss. Just as she got it together and thought about sliding a hand down between them to help him out with whatever he was doing, his hand disappeared. Her ears were ringing when whatever was behind them gave.
Turner still had her, he didn’t neglect his duty to her for a second. She heard what sounded like a door slamming and that was the first time she noticed they were inside. Poppy hadn’t figured out where they were or what was going on, but didn’t care when her shoes fell from her feet. It took her a minute even after sinking into something soft and feeling his weight on top of hers to realize that they were in a bed.
Breathing in, she absorbed the depth of him around her. His bed. They were in his bed. His fingertips drifted across her thigh, up higher, into her panties. Oh… Her eyes would’ve crossed if they were open; he was touching her. Turner was massaging her clit, teasing her, arousing her. He wanted her… So bad.
Except… he didn’t.
Her eyes opened. Everything was perfect. For her. Being with him, the kissing, in his bed, his fingers. He felt so good. And she wanted more. Wanted them to strip down and join together all night long. But he didn’t. Turner didn’t want that. She’d goaded him into kissing her.
Throwing her head to the side, she grabbed for his shoulders to push on him. “Stop.” He kissed her cheek and her jaw like maybe he hadn’t heard. “Turner, stop.”
Pressing harder, she drove her heels into his bed to propel herself north, away from his hand.
The panting outside had been adrenaline, the shorter desperation of her breathing had become something much more primal during his kiss. But she had to ignore