Pucked Off (Pucked #6)(63)

“I don’t want you to feel obligated to take me out for dinner.”

“Obligated?”

She looks down at her lap. “If you’ve changed your mind, or you’re not interested anymore.”

The car in front of me moves up. “Whoa. Hold up. Why would you think this is a pity date? Or that I’m not interested anymore.”

She fidgets with the strap of her purse. Her hair is in her face, so I can’t see her expression.

“Poppy?” I tuck her hair back, and she shies away. I drop my hand. I won’t touch her if she doesn’t want me to. “Why would you think this is a pity date?”

She lifts one shoulder. “Because of what I told you. You didn’t want to come in for a drink, and now it seems like you can’t wait to get out of this car. You’ve hardly said a thing since you picked me up. I’m not stupid, Lance. I don’t want to sit through two hours of strained conversation because you feel some sense of duty to follow through.”

Here I thought I was doing everything in my power to not fuck this up, and in doing so, I’ve managed to screw myself anyway.

A knock on my window prevents me from answering right away.

I roll down the window a few inches. “Hold on.”

“If you exit the vehicle, sir—”

“Hold the fuck on.” I grab the valet ticket from him and close the window, slamming my finger on the lock button, despite his protest. “Let’s get something straight.” I shift the car into park and unbuckle my seatbelt. “This isn’t a pity date. The only reason I didn’t want to come in for a drink is because I’m pretty low on restraint, and this is the only thing I can think about right the fuck now.”

I slide my hand into her hair and angle her head to the side. I don’t do what I want to—which is fuck her mouth with my tongue. Instead I stop half an inch away. “Tell me no if you don’t want me to kiss you.”

“I want you to kiss me.”

I brush my lips over hers, soft, sweet, and then I suck her bottom lip between mine. She tastes like vanilla and perfection.

She grabs the sleeve of my jacket, so I figure I’m good to keep going for now. I slip my tongue into her mouth, all slow and easy. At least at first, but the second she starts responding and that hot, satin stroke meets mine, I kind of lose control. I lean in closer and rest my palm above her knee, squeezing so I keep it where it is and don’t go on a search-and-rescue mission to discover what kind of panties she’s wearing.

Aware my semi-good behavior isn’t going to last very long, I start to move my hand away, but Poppy grabs it and squeezes. I want her to drag it higher, up under that pretty, silky dress, but we’re sitting in front of the valet, so taking this further isn’t an option. Instead, I flip her hand over and bring it up to rest against the side of my neck, groaning when her warmth meets my skin. She makes a matching, but much more delicate sound.

I ignore the honk behind us and the knocking on the window until Poppy pulls away.

Then I drop my hand and sit back in my seat. “Did that feel like pity to you?”

She brings her fingers to her lips. “No.”

Valet guy knocks on my window again. Which is a good thing, because I’m about to reconsider this entire part of the night in favor of ordering in.

“Good. Let’s go have dinner with my really blue fucking balls. ”





CHAPTER 16


DESSERT

POPPY

Lance has his arm threaded through mine as we navigate the uneven walkway to the restaurant. I’m not used to heels, so he’s supporting me a lot more than he might realize.

The host shows us to our table. It’s in a private, secluded area of the restaurant, right beside a fireplace, so I shed my shrug. Like last time, Lance pulls his chair closer so he’s perpendicular to me rather than across the table.

When the waiter comes to take our drink order, I flounder, looking to him for guidance. I don’t know why. I’ve never needed help ordering a drink before. Especially not on a date.

“Can I have sparkling water for now?” I ask Lance, not the waiter.

He picks up my hand and kisses my knuckles. “You can have whatever you want, precious.”

“Would you like to look at the wine list?” the waiter asks.

“Um—” The question seems to be directed at me.

“Sure, you can just leave it with us.” Lance takes it from him without even glancing in his direction. “You want anything other than water to start?”

I bite my lip and decide to order what I want without worrying about looking silly. “May I have a Shirley Temple, please?”

The smile that spreads across Lance’s perfectly kissable lips is as breathtaking as it is sweet. “Make that two.”

The waiter nods and disappears.

“Living on the edge, aye?” Lance bites my knuckle through a grin.

“Watch out. I’m a real wild one.”

“Not even a little, eh?”

My answering smile is all mischief. “I’ve always been a good girl.”

“Then what’re ya doin’ here with me?” The accent that’s barely noticeable most of the time gets heavier, along with his gaze.

“I don’t think you’re nearly as bad as you make yourself out to be.”