Pucked Off (Pucked #6)(78)



Her brow furrows, and she drops her hand. Her lips are turned down, but her frown looks more like a pout. “Wait. So we’re not naked?”

“What?”

“The pictures? We’re fully dressed?”

“Aye. Oh, fuck, you thought I meant naked ones?” I bite my bottom lip to keep from smiling at her sudden relief. It’s not working, though.

Poppy points a finger. “Don’t you dare laugh at me!”

“’At’s a dirty mind ya got there, pretty little Poppy.” It comes out heavily accented, which happens sometimes, like my roots can’t stay buried.

She throws her hands up. “You come barging in here with flowers and candy looking all cagey; what the heck was I supposed to think?”

My grin breaks free as I round the table and crowd her into a corner. “Did ya think I took naked selfies with ya?”

“No. I thought some creeper was watching us when we were in the kitchen, but now I have to wonder.”

“I told ya we were alone.” I move in closer until she’s almost backed into the wall. She’s stopped moving away now. “And I would nae take pictures of ya without yer permission.” I take her hands in mine when she raises them like she’s warding me off. Unfurling them, I press her rigid palms against the sides of my neck.

Her touch is like crack. It’s only been a few hours, and I’m already jonesing hard. “I’m sorry I freaked you out.”

“Liar. You’re still smiling.”

“I’m not lying. I was worried you wouldn’t want to go out with me again.”

“Do I look like a troll or something in the pictures?”

“You look gorgeous, too beautiful to be hanging around with someone like me.”

Poppy scoffs. “If you’re fishing for compliments, it’s not working.”

“I’m not fishing. I’m being honest.”

She makes another little noise of disbelief, but her eyes keep darting to my lips.

“I want to kiss you right now, even though you’re kind of pissed at me. Maybe even because you’re pissed at me.” I lean in and wait to see whether she’s going to tell me off. She’s got a little fire under all that precious. It’s the redhead in her.

“I might bite you.”

“I might like it.”

That gets a smile out of her. “Go ahead then.”

“Want or let?” I whisper when my lips are almost touching hers.

“Want, of course.”

I touch my lips to hers, the hint of a kiss. “So you’re not upset about the pictures?”

“I’d have to be an idiot not to expect them. You’re like a celebrity.”

“I don’t want that kind of thing interfering with me and you. I want to keep you to myself.”

“Is that so?”

“Mmm. All mine.” This time I take her mouth, and she parts her lips. It escalates quickly. I don’t remember turning her around and lifting her onto the table. Or wrapping her legs around my waist, but that’s where we end up.

The rattle of the door freezes us in place.

“Hey, Poppy? You in here? Why’s the door locked?”

“That’s April,” Poppy whispers. Then she nips at my lip and does a little hip roll.

“Want me to tell her to fuck off?”

She shakes her head like she’s throwing off a daze.

“You’ll never believe what’s on Insta!” More door rattling.

“I need to let her in.” Poppy pushes on my chest.

I step back and shove my hand down the front of my pants to rearrange my now-hard dick so it’s not so obvious. Poppy bites one of her knuckles and hums. She rushes around to open the door.

April bursts in and slams it behind her. “Check this out!” She holds her phone an inch away from Poppy’s face.

It’s then that she realizes I’m here. The phone suddenly disappears behind her back. “Oh. Oh, hey, Lance Romero. Number twenty-one for Chicago. Dating my friend Poppy here.”

I wave. “Hey.”

“I’ll wait for you—” She thumbs over her shoulder, her eyes darting between us. “—out there.” She bangs into the jamb.

“You don’t have to leave. I’m about to head out since you girls have dinner plans, yeah?”

April looks from Poppy to me and then back again, doing some weird thing with her eyebrows.

Poppy’s cheeks are pink. “We do.”

“Before I go, can I check out whatever you were gonna show Poppy, massage therapist and girl I kissed in a closet when she was twelve, but said she was fourteen. And whose ponytail I love to pull.” I tug on the end.

April has this glazed look on her face. She blinks a few times and looks to Poppy as if seeking permission.

“I guess it’s okay?” Poppy looks uncertain, but April pulls her phone out from behind her back, punches a few buttons and holds it out for me to see.

I’ve seen a few variations on this picture today. Poppy’s incredibly photogenic, and whoever took the pictures is good with a camera. I’m adjusting the strap of her dress and kissing her shoulder.

Her head is bowed. The freckles dotting her nose and sprinkling her cheeks make her look soft and innocent. Her lashes almost touch her cheek, and her bottom lip is caught between her teeth. It’s the perfect combination of sexy and sweet.

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