Page 79 of Catching Sparks

Poppy’s pastel purple sundress swishes along the backs of her knees as she leads us toward an unfamiliar door. That fucking dress is an entire problem on its own. It’s criminal. So plain yet, on her, a masterpiece. I want to both shred it to pieces and insist she wear it more often.

The sign above the door reads Exit, but it’s unlit, as if the lightbulbs inside have died. She doesn’t care about that, so I don’t either.

One of the two thin straps at her shoulders is loose, slipping down for the third time since I got to her side. She tugs it back up, and I fix my stare on her back, where the band of a bra should be showing beneath the thin dress but isn’t. I knew there wouldn’t be one, not with how her tits bounced on that bull, but I needed to be sure before I punished her for it.

If it hadn’t been for the peek of pink panties between her legs right before she jumped off the bull, I would have assumed she skipped those, as well.

Another thing to add to the tally tonight.

Her hair is down and loose tonight, curled slightly and bouncing above her shoulders. I want it wrapped around my fist while I yank her to her knees and fill her mouth with cock. I’ve been rock-solid since I caught sight of her swirling that straw in a glass of whiskey. My favourite kind, I learned after drinking it down when she stalked away from me.

I bet she still tastes like it.

With an elbow shoved against the door, Poppy pushes it open and leads us outside. The sun has only recently set, the sky only dark enough to cast the alleyway in shadows. There’s no one nearby, the alley void of anything but a chair parked beside the door that I’d assume the employees use from time to time. One end of the alley leads to a fork that goes who knows where, while the other opens to the main street.

“The truck is out front. Why are we here?” I ask, not surprised to hear my voice sounding even grittier than it did inside.

Poppy squeezes my hand before releasing it. She spins on the heels of her pink, shimmering boots and tilts those plump, pink lips into a smirk. I drag my gaze over every inch of her body, from the heavy breasts that rise and fall at a rapid pace to the pronounced dip in her waist and swell of her hips visible even beneath the flowy material of her dress.

She’s gorgeous. I’ve always thought so. From the first moment I saw her, I was attracted to her. And that attraction only grew once we began speaking. Now, I’m lost. So much of myself that I thought I knew has been stomped all over and crushed, leaving me with questions and a burning need to hear her tell me she feels the same about me. Even though I know it shouldn’t matter. That it won’t lead to anything.

It’s warm out, even without the sun above us, but her nipples are hard. My mouth waters at the indents of the piercings looped through them.

“Do you know what you did back there?” she asks, drawing my attention back to her face, the sight of her flushed cheeks and wet lower lip ruining me.

“I think I have a good idea.”

“And?”

I take a single wide step toward her. “And what?”

“They’ll all have questions now. Word spreads in a town this size.”

“The only thing I care about right now is teaching you a lesson, Poppy,” I growl.

She bats her eyes, the picture of innocence. “Teach me a lesson? For what?”

I glance down the alley to ensure we’re truly alone and then grab her, shuffling us into the darkest of shadows. Tucked beneath an overhanging piece of roofing and inside a small dip in the exterior wall, I cup her cheeks in my palms and tip her head back before finally—fucking finally—kissing her.

She does taste like whiskey, just a tease of it. Enough to make my head swim. I’m feral with my kisses, but so is she. Our teeth bump with the frantic pace, our tongues hungry. I brand her mouth, marking it as mine with nips and sucks that she whines for more of.

For the one and only time tonight, I give her what she wants. With every pant and whimper, I dive down deeper into my need until I’ve burrowed so far it’s the only thing I know. She feels like paradise beneath my hands when I release her cheeks and hold her hips, pulling her against my cock, making sure she feels what she’s done to me.

“You told me I wouldn’t be able to get a rise out of you,” she moans.

Bending at the knees, I grab her thigh and wrap it around my waist, opening her up before grinding against her centre, showing her just how fucking naive I was. She mewls, fingers sliding through my hair, holding on tight.

My lips slip across her cheek, dragging the gloss from her mouth over her skin and down to the underside of her jaw. I suck on her pulse and get rewarded with a low, desperate moan.

“I was wrong,” I breathe, using my free hand to cushion the back of her head when it falls back against the brick wall. “Is that what you wanted to hear? That I couldn’t stand the sight of another man with his hands on you? That I’m barely holding on to my sanity in the aftermath of that little show of yours?”

She nods weakly, eyes glossy and dazed. “Yes. Yes, I wanted to know all of that.”

“Then I hope you feel accomplished, honey. Soak it in while you can.”

I ignore the curiosity that flares in her gaze as she stares between us. She lifts her hips, seeking more pressure between her legs, but I stall my grinding movements, keeping a hairsbreadth of space between us.

I pinch her chin rougher than I’ve ever touched her before, but not painfully. It’s more questioning than demanding. An inkling of something I’ve been wanting to explore more and more with each night we’ve spent together.

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