Page 62 of Brewing Up a Bad Boy

“Now who’s teasing?”

He couldn’t help the proud look that he knew was on his face. He’d somehow gotten the upper hand.

Then she tightened around him again, grinding back against him. Taking his hand in hers, she moved his fingers over her clit in a different pattern. The noises she made tore through his control, and this was no longer a game.

It was heat and need and craving.

A craving for something that he could only find when she was in his arms. Her body moving against his. He leaned over her, bracing one hand on the counter next to her. His chest rubbed against her back as he explored her neck with his mouth, sucking strongly.

He was trying to consume as much of Poppy—of this moon fairy and her magic—into his being as he could. But his body demanded more. He moved his hips more frantically as she clamped hard and screamed his name, her pussy throbbing around his cock.

He drove himself deeper into her, riding her orgasm until it drew out his. He thrust into her until he was empty and then rested his head between her shoulder blades. The smell of sweat and sex, Poppy and him, mingled in the air. He closed his eyes.

Don’t let this be fake.

That was all he was thinking. These feelings that she stirred in him were intense and scary. If he sat in them for more than a second, he wanted to rage. Not at her, but at the universe for making him feel something so deep and then giving him no assurance that it would work out.

If this was what falling in love felt like... Well, he wasn’t ready for it. Wasn’t entirely sure he ever would be. These emotions were too fragile.

He lifted his head, and their eyes met in the mirror. Her eyes were sleepy and sated. She smiled at him and his heartbeat sped up.

How could he run from this? From her? He’d done it once, but that time he hadn’t allowed her this far into his psyche. This time... Was there a way to push her back out? He was afraid it was too late for that.

“Want a bath or a shower? It’s so hot tonight,” she said, her voice soft and sweet. So Poppy was talking about ordinary things while he was falling into a maelstrom, searching for something to hold on to. He drew his finger down the line of her spine as he pulled out of her. She was so vulnerable to him. She’d told him that with her booze-fueled entreaty to be real.

Maybe that was partially why he felt this fear. It wasn’t just himself he had to protect. It was Poppy’s heart. If he couldn’t stay, if this wasn’t going to last, if the man he thought he was becoming wasn’t real...then he had to stop this now.

“Ali?”

“Yeah. Shower would be great.”Get your shit together.He wasn’t going to have a fucking meltdown after having sex with Poppy.

“Good. Together?” she asked. There were clouds in her eyes now as if she sensed the fucking shit going on inside him.

“Yes. I want that,” he said. God he wanted that more than she could know. He wanted this to just feel normal and safe. But he wasn’t sure that he was going to be able to allow these feelings to stay.

She debated asking him to spend the night.

Pickle jumped up on the couch and curled into his lap. Even the most hard-hearted person wouldn’t be able to resist Alistair cuddling the sweet mini dachshund. She felt tears stinging her eyes and got up to go to the kitchen, making an excuse that she needed water.

The past few years had been a lot. Like, more than she’d ever expected. She wished being an adult had been that rosy tale she’d painted for herself as a kid. Where she’d get to eat cookie dough from the bowl, stay up late and just hang out with her friends.

Her reality had been harder, more intense. The divorce, moving here. The months when she wasn’t sure she’d ever make enough money to move out of her parents’ rental house. Pickle getting sick and having to have her teeth removed. Liberty’s nan being put into a nursing home. Sera losing Ford. They had all been through a lot.

They’d helped each other through everything. Even her divorce. But how were her friends going to help her through this?

Ali was on her couch after having just fucked her and left her boneless and then taken a shower with her. She glanced at him sitting on the couch, flipping the channels. He stopped onPride and Prejudice. “You like this one, right?”

“It’s my favorite.”

She hated to admit that for years, she’d refused to watch it because everyone loved it, and Poppy had never wanted to be like everyone else. Even when she morphed into what she thought Ali wanted as a wife, she’d taken care to not be like any other new wife. She liked being original. ButPride and Prejudicewas so good. Like, way better than it should be.

Indulging in a comfort filmwouldhelp vanquish her vulnerability. But she couldn’t watchPride and Prejudicewith him. If she did, he’dknowthat she always wigged out when they got to the scene where Darcy met Elizabeth at the pub and went to save her sister... That scene always made her heart ache. The emotions on Matthew Macfadyen’s face would make her squeeze Ali’s hand and want him to feel like they had that love...which they didn’t right now. They might later, but at this moment, it would be too real.

As much as she was determined to be real and keep this relationship grounded in truth, she wasn’t ready for him to know that the sex had been so good tonight, it had been more than sex. It had been falling-in-love-with-him sex. Which she knew was her mind running away in the heat of it all. Like, soul sex wasn’t a thing.

But tonight had felt extra.

Like this time, they were really communicating and seeing each other. He wasn’t perfect, he wasn’t Prince Charming sweeping her off her feet this time. She wasn’t fake Cinderella losing her shoe so he’d find her. She was Poppy. She was his moon fairy, but she was totally in his world. There was no fae realm waiting for her.

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