by Paige Tyler
Sam’s hand found its way into her hair, not trying to control her movements, but simply so he could tease his fingers along her scalp and neck, encouraging her to keep going. He seemed ready to come any second.
But just when she felt him stiffen under her tongue, the hand in her hair tightened, and Sam gently tugged her up and off his cock. She started to complain, but he dragged her upright, silencing her with a kiss.
“Not that I wasn’t enjoying what you were doing,” he murmured against her lips. “But the first time I come with you, I want to be buried deep inside.”
Poppy considered making a crack about him having been buried pretty deep inside her mouth, but when he scooped her off her feet, she decided it could wait. Truthfully, she was looking forward to having him between her thighs, too.
The walk to her bedroom took seconds and then she was flying through the air, bouncing at least a foot off the mattress of her big comfy bed when she landed, laughing harder than she could ever remember laughing.
“Condom?” Sam asked, his voice a little desperate, like he thought he might have to run across the hallway naked to get a box from his place. She was tempted to let him just so she could see that muscular butt bounce when he ran.
“Nightstand. Top drawer,” she said, pointing. “I picked up a few when I went food shopping. I wanted to be prepared.”
He opened the drawer and pulled out an economy sized box, then lifted a brow in her direction. “I’m not sure if I should be thrilled that you think we need so many or terrified at the unrealistic expectations you apparently have when it comes to the stamina of a human male.”
Poppy slid off her barely-there panties with a little butt wiggle. “Don’t worry. I promise to keep my expectations firmly under control. I like to buy in bulk for the savings. Math—remember?”
Sam chuckled and tossed the box in the drawer, one of those cost-efficient condoms in hand. Quickly unbuttoning his shirt with his free hand, he shrugged it off, revealing the rest of his perfect body. Abs for days, a lithe, lean swimmer’s body, smooth chest, and a furry little happy trail that had her ready to sink back down to her knees so she could run her face along it.
It should be illegal for any man to look this good.
Poppy watched as Sam rolled the condom down his thick shaft, which hadn’t flagged in the least throughout their banter. If anything, he was even harder than he’d been during the blow job she’d been giving him.
Too eager to wait, Poppy crawled to the side of the bed, wiggling around until her butt was perched on the edge, toes barely touching the floor. When she spread her legs wide, Sam eagerly stepped between them. The bed was higher than most, putting her body at the perfect height.
Poppy shifted her hips a little, leaning back some as he slipped his hands under her knees, spreading her even further. With his hands busy, she wrapped her fingers around him, teasing the head up and down her folds. Her moan of anticipation turned into full-throated gasp as he slid in deep. She could feel him all the way down to her soul.
“Oh, yes,” she breathed. “That feels so good.”
She was practically hyperventilating by the time Sam bottomed out inside her, touching places that had never been touched before. Then he stayed there until she could feel him throbbing inside her. She expected him to start thrusting—because she was more than ready—but instead, Sam carefully wrapped her legs around his hips, making sure she had her ankles locked there before leaning forward to kiss her.
The tenderness of the kiss was the perfect complement to the intensity of him being inside her—soft and hard at the same time. She soon got lost in the sensation of his tongue tracing her lips, his teeth nipping at her lower lip, and wondering where that amazing mouth would go next. Then Sam started to move and thinking became impossible.
He thrust slowly to start, pulling back just a little before plunging back in. Each pump of his hips did something crazy to her, sending deep seismic shocks through her core, building and building until Poppy thought she might shake apart.
Then he found her clit with his thumb, pressing down firmly at the same time. There were no words to describe it. Having the most sensitive part of her body massaged at the same time he pumped deep inside her was beyond amazing.
It was impossible to tell where her orgasm started, deep inside where his shaft was hitting her G-spot, or at her clit, which his thumb was deliciously teasing. Either way, the spasm of pleasure burst out of her so wildly that she screamed without sound, her entire body locking up at once as her mind overloaded and went into reset mode.
Sam held her through her whole climax, one big hand around the back of her neck, the other splayed wide on her stomach, that thumb of his doing horribly wonderful, nearly evil, totally delightful things to her clit.
She was beating a rhythmic tattoo on his lower back with her heels when he suddenly picked her up. The next thing she knew, her back was against the wall near the door and Sam was pounding into her like he was possessed.
And it was spectacular.
Poppy wrapped tighter around him and held on like a Koala in a typhoon, burying her face in his shoulder and enjoying the moment. It was like something from a dream. A very sexy, X-rated dream. Or maybe something from one of the steamier romance novels she loved to read even as she told herself they were complete BS.
But this was real.
Oh, man, was it real.
She didn’t quite have another orgasm. But when Sam slammed deep into her and groaned out his own climax, she definitely experienced a moment nearly as good as one. Everything inside her locked around him, and she swore she could feel his heat pouring into her even though he was wearing a condom.
A minute passed.
Or maybe it was an hour.
But at some point, Sam pulled back to look at her, his smoldering gaze locking on hers. It was too soon for the words, but if she was of a mind to say them, she would have been serious, and they would have been oh-so-very real.
“Have I told you how amazing you are?” he whispered, his breath warm against her face as he continued to hold her firmly against the wall.
She smiled and kissed him. “Yes. Just a few minutes ago, as a matter of fact. But feel free to say it as often as you like.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Poppy was so nervous she was practically bouncing on the seat of Sam’s truck, toes tapping the floor in time with the song on the radio, her right hand repeatedly gripping and releasing the door handle. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Sam glance her way occasionally, like he was worried she was going to shove open the door and jump out.
“You know, there’s no reason for you to be worried,” he said with a smile in her direction. “My mom and dad—as well as everyone else—are going to absolutely love you.”
“I wish I could be as sure of that as you are.”
Poppy wished she wasn’t so worried about the party. It wasn’t like her. She hadn’t worried about what people thought of her in years. Not since she was a little kid and realized she’d never be like everyone else.
But everything was different with Sam. This past week with him had been amazing. They’d spent every night together going out to eat, jogging, walking along the beach, or hanging out on the couch binging shows on Netflix. It didn’t matter what they did, as long as they did it together. Sam ended up spending so much time at her place that he hadn’t even opened most of the boxes sitting in the middle of his living room. He simply walked over in the morning to grab a fresh uniform and head straight to base from there.
The wild thing was that in all the time they’d spent together, they’d yet to run out of things to talk about. It was crazy how comfortable she was with him. And while she wasn’t ready to use the L word in regard to what they had because it was way too early for that, she’d admit that sometimes, in the middle of the night, while she was gazing up at the ceiling in the darkness while he slept beside her, she could truly see herself making a life with him.
“Just rel
ax and be yourself,” Sam said for the third time since they’d gotten in his truck.
He probably thought he was being helpful, so how could she tell him that being herself might be the worst advice he could ever give? Especially since considering she had a long track record of people not being very impressed with Poppy McCoy.
He reached out to take her hand. “Poppy, it doesn’t matter what anyone thinks, not even my parents. I know what I have with you. Nothing else is important.”
She smiled at him, relaxing a little. “That makes me feel better, but I still want to make a good impression on your family and your Teammates. I know how close you are with them.”
Sam’s smile faded as he turned his attention back to the road. Crap, had she said the wrong thing?
She squeezed his hand, but didn’t say anything, instead thinking about what she’d say when she met his mother and father. As worried as she was about everyone else, Sam’s parents had her petrified. Somehow, she needed to simply bowl them over.
Poppy was so focused on coming up with a list of things she should remember to say to them that she didn’t realize they’d arrived at his parents’ home until he pulled into the driveway. Sam was around and helping her out the truck before she had a chance to start hyperventilating too badly. Giving her a smile, he placed a warm hand on her lower back as they walked toward the porch, a tray of fudge brownies they’d made for the cookout in her hand.
She only had a few seconds to take in the two-story brick and stucco home before she and Sam were at the front door, but Poppy couldn’t help thinking she’d seen this place before.
“Poppy…um…there’s something we need to talk about before we go inside,” Sam said, his voice coming out hesitantly and lacking the confidence normally there. “I know I should have told you earlier, but I couldn’t seem to find the right time and place. Or words, to be honest.”
Tension made her stomach clench again. And this time, it had nothing to do with meeting his parents. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” he murmured. “It’s just that…”
Before he could say more, the door opened, interrupting him and startling Poppy so much that she nearly dumped brownies all over the place.
“What the hell are you two doing standing out here on the porch talking when there’s a whole backyard full of people waiting to see you?”
Poppy spun around to see a tall, well-built man standing there holding the door open, smiling at them. “You must be the mysterious girlfriend Sam has been telling everyone about that half of us thought he made up. I’m happy to see he’s not delusional. It’d be hard to hold onto a security clearance if he was. I’m Lane, by the way.” His gaze dropped to the tray in her hands. “Are those brownies? I love brownies.” When she and Sam still just stood there, he frowned. “Dude, you guys coming inside or what?”
Sam pinned his friend with a look. “Give us a minute, huh? I need to talk to Poppy first. We’ll be right in.”
Lane snorted. “Forget it, Dude. Did you miss the part where I said that everyone’s waiting to meet your girlfriend? If I don’t show up with you guys in the next sixty seconds, the whole Team is going to be out here, along with your mom and dad. So, stow the romantic chatter until later and let’s go.”
Before Sam could say anything, Lane stepped out of the doorway and herded them inside like a couple of cats. Poppy started to laugh, but the sound quickly got stuck in her throat as she abruptly remembered why she’d recognized the home. She’d been here before. At one of the lowest moments of her life.
Crap.
Sam took her hand, slowing her down a little as they followed Lane toward the sliding glass doors that led to the backyard. “I need to tell you something before we go outside. I swear I never meant to hide this from you, but I didn’t want to mess up what we had.”
Lane was already through the door, announcing their arrival to what sounded like fifty people. Poppy had no idea what Sam was going on about, but as she hesitated in the middle of the all-too-familiar living room, she knew she had to tell him about the last time she’d been at his parents’ house before everything blew up in her face.
“I’m a Navy SEAL,” he blurted out before she could even think about how to start her own confession.
One moment, Poppy was staring at him in shock, and the next, Lane reached back into the house and grabbed her hand, dragging her and Sam out onto the big deck overlooking a perfectly manicured back yard with half a dozen picnic tables and a seemingly endless amount of lawn chairs.
“Everybody, this is Poppy,” Lane called in a loud voice. “She’s actually real, so to all relevant parties, pay up!”
Poppy ignored Lane—and Sam for that matter. Instead, she gazed out across the yard, surprised at how many of the people she still recognized, even though almost a year had passed since she’d sat at one of those very same tables making a total idiot of herself.
The first person that caught her attention was Dalton. Because, of course.
He stared at her, his face going pale as she stood there rigid as a board, watching first confusion and then something that might have been terror cross his face. Poppy wondered if it was the realization that he’d slept with the woman that Sam was dating or if there was something else freaking him out.
She got her answer when an attractive blond woman walked over to Dalton and handed him a beer before casually wrapping an arm around his waist. A moment later, a little girl with dark blond hair tied up in a ponytail raced across the yard to join him and the woman. The smiles on the trio’s faces—along with the wedding rings on the couple’s left hands—filled in the blanks.
Dalton was married to a woman with a kid.
That certainly explained why he looked so uptight to see her. He was probably worried she’d make a scene and blow what he had with his new family.
If only she could tell him that was the furthest thing from her mind.
“Poppy, this is Wes and his girlfriend, Kyla,” Sam said, interrupting her thoughts and forcing her attention to the dark haired, blue-eyed guy and the petite, pretty girl standing in front of them. “He’s one of my best friends on the Team.”
Poppy went on automatic pilot, shaking hands and greeting people, even taking the hard seltzer someone offered her. There were Hayley and Chasen Ward, who’d gotten married since she’d seen them last, followed by a whole string of SEALs who’d been at the previous cookout Dalton had brought her to. Thankfully, all of them acted like they were meeting her for the very first time or things would have been even more awkward than they already were. And in a way, she supposed they were meeting the real her for the first time.
It was kind of like she was meeting each of them for the first time, too. Besides Hayley and Chasen, she hadn’t remembered any of their names. Then again, at the time, she’d been more focused on playing the vapid airhead Dalton had thought she was. She cringed as she remembered making some seriously insipid comments to Hayley about how Chasen had rescued her from terrorists in Africa like a character in a romance book. One look at Hayley’s face told her that the woman still remembered every single regrettable word.
“And this is my mom, Melissa, and my dad, Kurt,” Sam said as they came to a stop in of his parents, neither of whom looked thrilled to see her. “Mom, Dad. This is Poppy McCoy, my girlfriend.”
Poppy held her breath as she shook each of their hands, waiting for the sky to fall. Any second now, Sam’s mother would start ranting about her son bringing home a bimbo stripper. Because, as far as Melissa knew, that’s exactly who Poppy was when she’d been with Dalton.
Kurt, who looked like an older version of Sam, said it was nice to meet her.
“We’ve heard a lot about you,” Melissa said with far more calm than Poppy expected. An elementary school teacher, she had dark eyes and wore her brunette hair up in a messy bun. “You’re a math professor at San Diego Mesa College, right?”
Poppy froze, unable to speak. Was this Melissa’s way of saying she was goi
ng to cover for her? Or was the woman expecting her to “come clean” about the whole stripper thing when she’d very briefly dated Dalton?
“Yes,” Poppy said, finally finding her voice. “I’ve been teaching there for almost a year and a half now.”
Maybe it was the tone of Poppy’s voice or the fact that she wasn’t using the airhead vocals she’d put on when she was with Dalton, but either way, Melissa’s gaze sharpened considerably.
Poppy glanced at Sam out the corner of her eye. From the look on his face, he was picking up on the strange vibe going on between her and his parents. She opened her mouth, ready to put it all out there, but before she could say anything, half a dozen cell phones rang, including Sam’s, making most of the women jump in alarm.
Cursing under his breath, Sam pulled his phone from his pocket. “Travers.”
After that, there wasn’t much in the way of conversation on Sam’s part. A few grunts here and there, then, “Roger that.”
The expression that crossed Sam’s face as he shoved the phone back in his jeans was a cross between worry and fear. And it scared the hell out of Poppy.
“I have to go,” he said, leaning in to kiss the corner of her mouth, then handing her the key to his truck. All around the backyard, the other SEALs who’d just gotten phone calls were busy saying their goodbyes to their significant others. “I’ll catch a ride with Lane and will call you as soon as I can.”
Head suddenly spinning, Poppy clutched the key in her hand as she watched Dalton give his wife and little girl a kiss and a hug. A few feet away, Kyla was kissing Wes almost desperately, while Hayley murmured, “safe and sound,” to Chasen as she hugged him tightly.
Poppy turned back to Sam, grabbing his hand and holding him in place even as Lane stood off to the side waiting impatiently for him. “What do you mean, you have to go? Who was that call from? Where are you going? When are you coming back?”
He grimaced. “Crap, this is all stuff I should have told you before. About me being a SEAL, I mean. That was a call from headquarters telling us that we have a mission. I can’t tell you where I’m going because I don’t know. And even if I did, I couldn’t tell you. It’s classified.”