Page 55 of Never Have I Ever

19

Poppy

My head doesn’t spin, and my thoughts aren’t cloudy. Quite the opposite. I feel more in touch with reality than I have in years. This is real. He is. And he’s right here worshipping me. Instead of ruining what we have, I lean into it and whisper, “God, that feels so good.”

He’s holding my legs wide open. The struggle not to clamp my thighs closed on him consumes me, and the pressure on my clit becomes too much to hold back. So I give in, falling into him, bucking into the darkness against the scruff and the ecstasy of his tongue. “Oh God,” I cry out, my back arching off the mattress before collapsing.

Laird didn’t win my heart with his words, though they made me swoon. How he made me feel that they were real and true had me falling for him.

At the height of unadulterated bliss, I discover who I am. His savior.

I lie there with my eyes closed, letting every tremble traverse its course until I’m left lifeless. Flopping my arms to the side, I grin when he kisses my lips like he does the ones up higher. A giggle escapes while still trying to catch my breath, and I say, “I think I died and went to heaven.” When I wait to see him, he smirks, then licks my star tattoo with a flattened tongue. I weave my fingers through his thick hair, loving how sexy he is when it’s all messed up. “I think you’re obsessed.”

“I am,” he says, kissing it before tracing it with his finger for the thousandth time.

I laugh, but secretly, I’m obsessed that he loves this connection with me. Raising a brow, I smirk. “I don’t know if you’ve forgotten, but you do have one of your own.”

“Mine only matters because of yours.” He admires it again, making me jealous of my own body for stealing the attention, so I lie down. “It’s so fucking sexy on you.”

A shiver runs through me from the cold air. “Because we might be the only two people in the world with it?”

He pulls the top blanket over my chest for me to snuggle with. “Because I know we are.”

The remark is so off the cuff, but I pause, lifting my head once more. “How do you know that?”

“Um,” he says with a shrug. “It’s unique.”

I nod, holding the blanket tight. “It is.” But I reach down to rub my hand over the design just as he pushes up. “I love it.”

“Me too.” The cover is pulled to the side, exposing me to the cool air again. Smiling as he climbs over me like a tiger about to attack his prey, he says, “And for the record, you might be in heaven, but I’m going straight to hell.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Those pearly gates won’t open for someone with my level of bad deeds.” Kissing my mouth, he then asks, “Want to join me in hell?”

“You’re not so bad. What’s the worst you’ve done? Drink too much, have a lot of sex, do some drugs, play some rock ’n roll? Sounds like a good time, if you ask me.” Running the tips of my nails over his temple, I wrap my arms around him and kiss him again. “And for the record, I’ll follow you anywhere, Laird.” It’s tempting to mess around with him and add “if you keep doing what you just did,” but I don’t. I won’t. His making me orgasm isn’t what will get me to hell with him. No. “All you have to do is ask.”

“Will you come to LA with me?”

My heart stutters to a stop, seizing my breath with it. When I don’t manage to say anything, he adds, “The cold’s been fun, but I’d rather see you in my day-to-day.”

“Your day-to-day?” I understand the words, but for some reason, my mind gets lost in the comprehension.

“I know it’s a lot to ask since you’re from New York, but maybe you could extend the trip or even the job if you need—”

“It’s never about the money. My family has money. As much as I don’t have contact with my dad for being heinous to my mom and absent from my life, he set up a trust fund for me.”

A smile slowly spreads across his mouth. “I love that you followed your passion.”

“It is my passion, but I work because I don’t want to ever rely on my parents again. I built a business, a successful one, but then the accident happened, and I was forced under their dime again. That’s why I’m catering my mom’s wedding.”

“Maybe I’m too tired for this conversation. I have no idea why you would be catering your mom’s wedding to your ex-boyfriend because you were in an accident.”

“It’s tit for tat with my mom. That’s why we don’t get along.”

He falls to the side of me and rubs the bridge of his nose. “I’ll be honest, I either need food or sleep—”

“Why does it sound like there’s an ‘or’ in there?”

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