Page 46 of Catching Sparks

“I’m a good teacher.”

Johnny left the truck outside, and I find the keys in the visor like always. “Be ready for me, Poppy. Don’t break my rules. I promise you won’t like the consequences.”

“Yes, Sir,” she sings, and fuck it all to hell because I shudder at the sound of the name on her lips.

“Good girl.”

I hang up and start the truck.

16

GARRISON

Poppy’s front door is in front of me. I’ve been staring at it for five minutes, trying to convince myself to get back in the truck and drive far, far away. This is a terrible idea. One of the worst I’ve had in years to date.

But I grip the handle anyway. It’s unlocked like I knew it would be. She sent me a message just as I pulled up, informing me that she broke my orders only to slip out of bed and unlock it. My palm burns with the need to punish her for it, to cover her pretty ass with red handprints.

Sucking in a long breath through my nose, I step inside the small entryway and lock the door behind me, slipping off my shoes. I attempt to calm myself with a sweep of my gaze over the small living room and kitchen. It’s impossible not to notice all of the imperfections and lack of things that I would consider essential for day-to-day life. Like a coffee machine that doesn’t require you to fill a filter with grounds or even a dishwasher. The rack beside the sink full of clean, hand-washed dishes is something I haven’t seen since I was a boy.

Despite how out of date everything is, the place is clean and organized. Functional in a way I can appreciate. I’ve never been one for messes, not mine or others.

A low, breathy moan cuts through the house, and I’m moving in an instant, my chest suddenly too tight with the frantic race of my heartbeat. I’m a predator on the hunt, that tiny sound of pleasure more than enough to steal all my focus. The hall is dark, lit only by the dim light leaking from Poppy’s bedroom. It’s a beacon that isn’t necessary, not when I memorized the way to her room the last time I was here.

My first step inside brings me face to face with the spread length of her bare body on the queen-sized mattress, two thin, flimsy pillows keeping her propped against the headboard. Her soft thighs are parted, knees bent and feet flat to the soft yellow comforter. I don’t fight my gaze when it strays between her legs, at the two fingers toying with her swollen, glistening pussy. The swell of her hips and stomach makes it hard to breathe as my throat bobs. My cock hardens in my jeans, discomfort once again on the horizon tonight if I don’t shed them immediately. Poppy focuses on me, eyes hazy, pupils blown.

The rapid rise and fall of her chest draws my attention, and I curse under my breath when I watch her nipples tighten and swell. She has a hand curled around one, her fingers spread enough for the nipple to sit in the crease of two as she squeezes softly.

“Took you long enough,” she murmurs, lashes fluttering furiously as her body shudders.

I drop my stare between her legs again and watch as she rubs quick circles around her clit, her bent knees shifting inward and out repeatedly.

“Stop,” I demand, tugging at the button of my jeans. She does as I say, sliding her hand up her stomach and to her other breast, palming it. “Have you come?”

She shakes her head nice and slow, keeping her eyes on mine. “No.”

“No?”

“No.”

I reach behind my head and tug my shirt off, setting it on the dresser beside the door. My jeans are undone, hanging open around my hips. She sucks in a sharp inhale, those wide eyes scouring my upper body, curious and interested. A wave of some disconcerting emotion swells inside of me before crashing, rocking me back on my feet. Insecurity, maybe, at the bold way she looks at me, like I’m a meal she wants to devour. It should make me feel confident. I’m always confident. Especially in the bedroom. This odd moment of weakness is noted.

I clench my jaw and shove out of my pants and socks, not giving myself a chance to dwell on that odd feeling. By the gaping of Poppy’s jaw as she stares at my cock, I certainly don’t have anything to feel self-conscious about.

After scouring the bed for the toy I told her to leave on the mattress, I smirk, taking two prowling steps toward her. “Are you lying to me, Poppy?”

She rolls her lips before swiping her tongue along their seam. “I’d never lie to you about that.”

I cock my head. “Show me the vibrator, then.”

“I don’t want to use it. I want the real thing.”

“This?” I ask, reaching down to grab my shaft, stroking from root to tip just once.

She sighs, licking those lips again. God, I want to be the one licking her mouth, nipping at it with my teeth and diving inside with my tongue. I hold myself back, knowing what’s coming will make the wait worth it.

“I’ll give you my cock all night, Poppy. Fast, hard, however you want it. Until you beg me to give your sore pussy a rest. But not until you do as you’re told.”

“I don’t take orders well.”

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