Pucked Off (Pucked #6)(59)

She moves her palm from the back of my neck to my cheek. I have a brief moment of panic in which flashes of Tash touching me like this threaten to ruin the moment. Every hint of gentleness with Tash was balanced with aggression. But this is different. Poppy is almost careful, and as much as I like the way that feels, it makes me nervous. She has a new, different kind of power over me, and I’m not sure how to deal with that.

When her hand moves to my chest, I cover it with mine.

She pulls back; worry making her sparkling eyes wide. “Sorry.”

I lift her palm back to my cheek and drag her fingers along my jaw, then I kiss the tip of each one, resisting—just barely—the urge to bite or suck on them. My dick is achingly hard.

“I’m going to go home now.” Jesus. It sounds like I gargled with razor blades.

“You don’t have to leave yet.” Her eyes drop, her teeth pressing into her lip.

“Poppy, look at me.”

Her gaze lifts. She’s hurt. I can read it in her expression.

“I’m not leaving because I don’t want you. I’m leaving because I do.”

“But I—”

“If I’m going to have to see a different massage therapist for the rest of my life, I’m sure as hell not going to screw up my chances of getting more kisses like that from you by jumping the gun tonight. Your body is a gift I want to earn the right to enjoy. Okay?”

That changes the hurt to a tender smile. “Okay.”

“Can I steal one more kiss, though?”

“Please.”

I savor her—taste her mouth, sample the sweetness of her tongue and the press of her body against mine. I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want her. I don’t want to claim, fuck, devour. I want to be worthy, and I’m afraid I never will be.

This is exactly what makes me a bad person, because that won’t stop me. I’ll get inside her. I’ll find out how good it feels to be with her, even if I never deserve her.





CHAPTER 15


FIRST DATE ADVICE

LANCE

It’s Friday, and that means tonight I’m taking Poppy out on a date. A real date. One that includes dinner, and whatever the fuck else I can think of to make her more likely to go out with me again, beyond the second date I’ve managed to pre-negotiate.

Canceling all my massage appointments made me aware of how on point I need to be tonight, which is why I’m currently sitting in Waters’ kitchen, getting advice from Violet. She and I got tight when Waters had an accident last season and I beat the fuck out of the guy who took him off the ice.

I haven’t been hanging around with them as much lately. However, right now I need dating advice, so here I am.

I could talk to Lily, but I haven’t said anything to Randy about this date. I figure it’s better to keep it on the down low for now.

Violet’s standing on the other side of her kitchen island, going through a bag of baby clothes and toys.

“Seriously. How much stuff does a baby need? Don’t they just eat, sleep, crap, and cry? Why do they need so many outfits? Ohhh! This is awesome!” She holds up a onesie with an inappropriate logo on it.

Miller and Sunny’s baby is only a week or so old, but apparently he’s huge for a newborn. His name is Logan. I’ve only been over to visit once. I’m not sure I’m all that great with babies since he puked on me and crapped himself during the two minutes I held him.

“That’s a lot of baby stuff. Don’t tell me you and Waters are jumping on that train now, too. ”

She gives me a look. “I’m not jumping on that train. Alex is another story. He keeps buying things; it’s a compulsion. On the upside, he’s taken a break from buying me new bras.” Violet abandons the clothes-sorting project and shoves everything back in the bag. “Okay, so one more time with this. You’re going out on a date with a girl you banged when you were a teenager?”

“No. I never banged her. I kissed her.”

“I don’t get why this is a big deal.”

I’ve been trying to give Violet the abridged version of events. She probably knows the most of anyone about my history, and that’s still not very much.

“It was in a closet. I was her first kiss.”

Violet frowns. “Why a closet?”

“We were at a party, playing Seven Minutes in Heaven.”

“Wow. Huh. How old were you?”

“I was almost fifteen.”

“How old was Poppy?”

“She said she was fourteen.”

Violet arches one of her brows and taps her manicured nail on the counter. There are jewel things on the end. They’re a little distracting. “Was she actually fourteen?”

“No. But that doesn’t matter now, does it?”

“I guess not, if you didn’t bone her. Okay. So let me put this all together. You were her first kiss at a party in a closet—which sounds like some weird horror movie business—and then you met her again last year at a bar, but you don’t actually remember meeting her because you were drunk off your ass. Do I have it so far?”

“Yup.”

“And she came back to your house, which you also don’t remember, and you almost slept with one of her friends, but instead you drew a dick on Miller’s forehead and posted it online, which caused the friend to have a meltdown because she was dressed like a slut and everyone on social media saw it.”