by Isabel Jolie
“No. I can be sensitive. Too sensitive.”
She headed down the hallway to her sofa, claimed one end and pulled a sweater throw over her entire bottom half. I joined her on the opposite end.
“Your sister is Lauren. Who is the other girl?”
“Caroline. She’s my sister’s friend.” Poppy picked at a loose thread in the throw, refusing to look at me. “She’s also my ex.” I watched her reaction closely for any clue.
“Is her heart as skinny as she is?”
I laughed out loud then swallowed it whole when hurt blue eyes looked up at me.
“What did she do?” I’d observed Caroline in action more than once. She’d never sunk her talons into someone I cared about, though. I looked over Poppy’s outfit for something Caroline could have commented on in her subtle cutthroat way. She wore a sweater and leggings. I reached over and squeezed her knee, then crept forward to the middle of the sofa.
“I’m not your type.” I cocked my head, rolling her words around. “That’s what she said.”
“Like she knows.” I brushed my thumb across her cheek and gently lifted her chin. “I don’t have a type, per se. I can tell you that I’m very into you. And if you’re not my type, it’s only because I’ve never met anyone else quite like you. A type implies there’s a subset of women that fit the category, or a group. And if there’s only one, then by definition, it’s not a group. Right?”
She’d either cried away all her eyeliner or washed her face, but she appeared more fragile without all the black around those eyes. I lifted the throw over both our laps, then pulled her against me. She dropped her head onto my chest, and I placed a soft kiss on her golden waves.
“Your ex is like Barney’s and I’m like Dollar General.”
I sucked back a laugh. “Interesting comparison. Barney’s went bankrupt, and Dollar General has proven itself to be a solid investment.” She stared at the floor.
“You weren’t so into me after our last date.”
“Are you kidding me?”
“You didn’t want to come in.” I attempted to lift her chin, but she pressed the side of her face against my chest, refusing to look at me.
“I very much wanted to come in. But…I suspect Ben, and maybe some other guys in the past, haven’t treated you the way you deserve to be treated.”
“And that turns you off?” Her tiny frail voice begged for protection.
“No. Did you think I didn’t come in because I wasn’t attracted to you?”
“I’m a big girl.”
I bit my lip to stop from laughing. “No, baby. I’ve seen you. Trust me. I’ve looked at all your photos. And you are not a big girl.”
“Those photos are at special angles. Photoshopped. In person…I’m squishy.”
“What?” The girl had thousands of men following her, and she doubted her sex appeal?
I stood off the sofa and lifted the blanket. That got her attention.
“Lay back. Wait. No. Stand up.” She did as I said. Then I lay down on the sofa, my back angled against it, and motioned for her to lie down beside me. “We’re gonna have a long talk, and I want to be comfortable for it.”
She lay down beside me, and I laid the blanket over us both. Low orange flames flickered in her electric fireplace. I placed the tip of my index finger over her lips, tracing the plump curves I’d fantasized over for months.
“These lips. Right here. Do you have any idea how many times they’ve starred in my fantasies?”
“You’ve thought about them wrapped around your dick, right?”
I chuckled. “Yes. But I’ve also thought about this.” And I dropped my head and pressed my lips to hers. She sucked in a breath as I pulled away.
“And those eyes of yours. You know they’re incredibly large, right?”
She nodded. “I have a stepbrother who used to tell me I looked like a freak because of them.”
“What?” I smiled at the absurdity of it. “No. Sometimes I find myself staring at your photos of only your face, so I can study your irises. Did you know the shade of blue varies?”
“Sometimes it’s a filter I use.”
“Maybe. In photographs. But the shade also varies based on what you’re wearing. Or the color of the sky.”
“You’re just saying that. Do you want to cop a feel or something?” Her legs slid against mine, the tease matching her tone.
“Oh, I definitely want to cop a feel. I want to touch and taste every inch of this delectable, svelte body.”
She squirmed, and I pressed my growing erection against her thigh, seeking pressure as I dipped my head and trailed kisses from below her ear, along her neck to the neckline of her sweater.
“And you just might have the most tantalizing breasts I’ve ever seen. And you’re talking to a guy with multiple porn site subscriptions.”
“Why would you pay for porn? You can get it for free.” Her brow wrinkled, and I flattened the wrinkles with my lips.
“Because I don’t like ads.” I tugged on her sweater. “Are you warm enough? Can we get rid of this?” She smiled, and color bloomed all along her face and down her neck. “I want you to see firsthand how much you turn me on.”
Her throat contracted as she swallowed. She hesitated, and my heartrate slowed, waiting. She lifted the edge of her sweater, and I helped her raise it over her head and off her arms, then dropped it on the floor. She pulled the throw up to right below her bra line. She wore a familiar white lace bra, one I’d seen on her VIP channel. I dropped my mouth over one nipple, wetting the transparent lace, and she let out a soft, low moan. My entire body hardened. I rocked my hips against her thigh.
“These breasts? They also take a starring role in my fantasies. Those little tank tops you wear?”
“The ones that only cover to right below my nipple? And sometimes ride up and show a little nip?”
“Yes. I. Love. Those.”
A light, happy sound erupted. “Yeah, I get my best tips on those photos.”
“Let’s not talk about that right now, okay?” She smiled knowingly. “I don’t want to think about anyone else looking at you. Or touching you. If it’s okay with you, this afternoon, I’m going to take my time, and show you how those other boys should have treated you. Because if they’d treated you the way you deserve, then you’d never doubt your appeal.”
I set to work kissing along her neck and near her ear, listening for moans or quivers, searching for those magical pinpoints that would turn her to putty.
“Only one boy, really.” I strained to process her muffled words.
“Ben? He’s your ex?”
“Well, we never…yeah, he’s my only.”
“I think it’s time we fix that? What do you say?”
“Okay.” Those big blue eyes seemed tentative, and I pushed up. She latched on to my bicep. “Yes, yes. I mean yes.”
I dropped my mouth and took hers, possessive. Our tongues danced, teasing and tempting. She wrapped both legs around me as I settled into her core, dry humping her. She rocked against me, and the pressure against my very hard erection intensified. Her hands wandered along my back and down to my ass, urging me to press harder. She tugged at my flannel shirt, and I broke away from her long enough to unfasten a few buttons and pull it over my head.
I settled back down, eager for skin on skin. Her soft, smooth curves cushioned the hard planes of my chest. I gripped the throw. She stopped me and shook her head, those blue eyes tentative and unsure.
“Leave it.”
“What?”
“I’d feel better if you left it.”
The request confused me. I sat back on my ankles and stared at the blanket covering her middle.
“Please.”
Those eyes pleaded. Did she have a scar? My dick throbbed, reminding me of its proximity to the ultimate destination and my need. I clutched her thighs, spread out, on each side of mine. I kneaded her muscles, working my way up her legs, slipping my hands beneath the blanket, up to the band o
n her leggings. My fingers slipped inside the band, and she squirmed.
“I want these off.”
She nodded and raised her hips to help me remove them. I hadn’t meant to remove her thong, but I did, and that was fine by me. A sprinkling of dark blonde hair lined her glistening pussy. She was fucking drenched. My cock strained uncomfortably against my zipper.
I finished pulling the leggings down around her ankles, maneuvered them off one pedicured foot, then the other, and threw them across the room. I kissed the inside of her knee and nipped and kissed all the way up her thigh to the end goal.
She sat up on her elbows and squeezed her thighs in on my head. I paused, looking up for an explanation.
“You may not want to do that. I haven’t waxed recently.”
I grinned. “I can see that. Doesn’t bother me. I can also see you’re not a natural blonde.”
“I am too! I just brighten my blonde.”
“That doesn’t bother me either.” I couldn’t begin to rein in my smirk.
“But it might smell. I’m not…”
“Baby, I want to taste you.”
Her expression altered from heated to one of fear. The fear had me pulling back.
“When did you last shower?”
“This morning.”
“Then we’re good.” I nipped at her sensitive flesh on the inside of her thigh and watched her carefully. She chewed on the corner of her lip. “What is it?”
“It’s just, no one’s ever done that. Ben said—”
“Stop. I don’t want to hear anything else about that guy. Especially when I’m inches from tasting you. But you mean to say, I’m going to be the first one to do this?” She nodded, and I grinned, elated with this bit of news.
“Then watch closely, baby.” I dipped the tip of my tongue into her slick folds, and she gasped. Her fists clasped the throw on each side of her hips. And then I went to work, licking and working my way back and forth. Listening for her gasps. Paying close attention to how she directed my head. As I zeroed in on her most precious nub, I caught her eye. Mouth opened, in ecstasy, she also appeared…worried.
“Baby, I love the way you taste.”
I slipped one finger, then a second, and played her as well as I used to play my guitar. She moaned, wriggled, and chanted. Her body quivered. Those unidentifiable chants transitioned to “oh, god, oh god,” and I kissed her thigh then climbed my way back up her body. I wanted to toss the throw. I resented the intrusion. But instead of ripping it off, I undid her bra clasp then sent the bra flying. My palm fell flat on her belly, and my fingers pulled inward, subtly shifting the covering.
“Don’t.”
“I want to feel you against me.”
She dropped her gaze and reached for my belt buckle. I watched as she worked the leather and undid the buckle then, snap by snap, undid my pants and shoved them down. My erect cock sprang free, and she fucking licked her lips.
Her tongue darted out to taste the glistening liquid on the tip of my cock, and I sucked in a breath as my fantasy reel played out. She wrapped those luscious lips around my cock and bobbed her head. I placed my palm on the back of her head, lightly, and massaged her shoulder with my other hand, luxuriating in the most amazing sensations. She massaged my balls, and I opened my eyes to focus on a distant wall to prevent exploding in her mouth.
“Do you want to come in my mouth or my pussy?”
Black and white spots filled the room for a moment, and I wasn’t sure if she’d really said that or if I dreamed it.
“Mouth or pussy?” she repeated as her grip on my cock tightened at the base, and she slid her top hand up and down, over the tender tip. Her breasts swayed with the movement, and I had to focus on the framed poster, breathing in to ease the pressure in my groin.
“We’re. Not. Having sex. This afternoon.” It took an extraordinary degree of effort to get the words out. Her hand stilled. “When we make love, it’s going to be when I can hold you all night.”
Her mouth resumed its work, and then her teeth grazed my tip, and the base of my spine tightened. I gently tugged on her hair. “Babe, I’m going to come.”
She dove down hard, deep throating me. My tip hit the back of her throat, and I exploded. She choked and pulled back as white cum spilled out of her mouth and spurt after spurt coated her face and dripped down her neck to her breasts.
“Oh, fuck. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” The muscles in my legs shook. From the base of my spine to deep in my core, my body relaxed, spent.
While she looked sexy as fuck with my cum all over her, that was not my intention. With a groan, I forced myself up and to the kitchen for a paper towel or dishcloth.
“I really didn’t mean to come in your mouth. When I tell you I’m going to come, you’ve got to pull back. You deep throated me, and fuck, that was sexy as hell but—”
“It’s okay.” I cleaned her up and kissed those soft, fabulous, sensuous lips. She leaned forward and pressed a kiss on my bare stomach. After throwing the dirty paper towels away, I found my place again on the sofa and pulled her against me. Her soft breasts pressed against me, skin on skin, except for the blanket between us, hiding her belly. And I kissed her, again and again. Soft and slow.
“Can we stay here all afternoon?” I asked as I fondled her breasts, my thumb tweaking her nipple, back and forth.
“It feels good, doesn’t it?”
I kissed her shoulder. “It does. You do. If I didn’t have visitors, I’d stay here all night. You couldn’t get rid of me.”
“What’d you leave them doing?”
“When I left, they were in the hot tub. Lauren insisted on coming down to check out my new place, but I think she’s already bored. I’m flying them back in the morning. Taking them to dinner tonight.” I wrapped a finger around a strand of hair. “Are you available tomorrow night?”
“For sex?” She rolled onto her back, and I took a nipple in my mouth, circling it with my tongue. My dick twitched, threatening to reawaken.
“To make love. If that’s the first time someone’s gone down on you, I suspect there are other things I can show you.” I reached beneath the blanket, exploring her thigh, working my way up. She pressed down, holding the blanket firmly in place. “What’s with this?”
“It’s just…you know.”
“No, I don’t.” I really didn’t.
“You don’t want to see all my jiggly parts.”
“Oh. I beg to disagree.” Her hold on the blanket remained locked. I’d seen her photos, but she’d also said she edited them. “You don’t know much about breast men, do you?”
Her teeth settled into her bottom lip as she shook her head slowly.
“I love breasts. I don’t care about anything else. I mean, I can appreciate it.” I trailed a finger between her legs, dipped it inside, then sucked her juices off. “I want to make all of you feel good. And I’m dying to feel you wrapped around me.” I dipped my finger back inside. “Hot, and wet, and tight.” My thumb pressed her mound, circling, until she closed her eyes and moaned. Her hips undulated against my hand, and her thighs tightened. I drew away in a tease, and her eyelids fluttered open. Once again, I sucked on my finger then placed the tip of my finger in her mouth. She repeated the sucking action, and her teeth scraped my nail. I felt her warmth everywhere. I cupped her breast and massaged it, supple and heavy in my hand. My thumb flicked over her nipple.
“You turn me on. Just. The. Way. You. Are.” I interspersed my words with kisses across her skin. Then we lay there, holding each other, comfortable and warm on her sofa. Me, on the verge of spreading her legs and pounding her. God, I wanted to. But I forced myself to refrain. I wanted more than a quick afternoon fuck for our first time. That Ben guy did a number on her. By the time I returned to New York, if I had my way, she’d see herself the way I saw her. And she’d demand her worth.
Chapter 22
Poppy
* * *
“Yes, thank you so much. I’ll look for your email
.” I hung up the phone and squealed at the top of my lungs. I clicked Gabe’s name then hit decline in a nanosecond, before it rang. He didn’t like still photos. He might not share my excitement.
So, I called Luna. Wind funneled through the phone. The girl was always out and about collecting samples for research. I had no idea why, really. I’d been with her a few times. Dirt in glass vials or plastic bags. The girl had a job I personally would never want.
“Guess what!” I shrieked.
“What?” Tate’s deep timbre rang through the line.
“Tate, where’s Luna?” A commotion followed and Luna and Tate’s voices blended.
“Hey girl.”
“You’re not going to fucking believe this. Netflix called!”
My heart pumped blood so fast I thought my chest might explode from the effort. My fingertips tingled, and I bounced around on the tips of my toes.
“Netflix?”
“Yes! They’re doing a reality TV show on OnlyFans celebrities. They want to understand who they are and what their day-to-day life is like. And they’re interested in me!” I squealed. Holy shit, my subscriber numbers would blast through the fucking roof. “I mean, it was an initial call. Nothing will probably come of it.”
My jittery high deflated as reality punctured a hole in my balloon. Nothing was guaranteed. They were probably meeting with tons of candidates. The call was the first step. Then I’d have to fly out for an introductory meeting with the producers. At that meeting, they’d see me in person, the unfiltered, un-Photoshopped, real live specimen. Maybe if I didn’t eat for the next two weeks… The noises coming through the phone sounded like a wind tunnel.
“Where are you?” I asked Luna.
“We’re headed out to a wreck site. Some fishing net hooked on it has collected a crazy amount of trash and we’re going to remove it. Clean up the site. That’s cool that Netflix called. But are you sure you want to do that? I don’t feel like those reality TV shows do good things for the contestants or…would you be a contestant? Is it a game, or are they following you around? Like the Kardashians or something?”