Page 56 of Pucking Sweet

His hand inches closer and I gasp, spinning around to face him. I’m more comfortable with the idea of his hands on my ass than my pussy. Bending at the knees a bit, he brushes my hair back and says in my ear, “Want to get out of here?”

Oh, god…

I have to leave with him! To have sex with this man, I have to get in a car and go to some other location. Why does the very idea make me want to run to the nearest wall and pull the fire alarm? There is no way I’m leaving here with a stranger. No sex is worth that anxiety. I don’t care how good it is.

I guess we could have sex here…maybe in the bathroom?Ugh, no. That’s not happening either. Poppy St. James does not have hookup sex in dirty bar bathrooms. But if we’re not having sex in thebathroom, and I’m not leaving here with him to have sex anywhere else, that doesn’t really leave us a lot of options.

Kyle tips my face up. “We could go to my place. I rent a little studio over by H Street.”

Sure, except the “H” now stands for “How ’bout not, and say we did?”

Poor Kyle. It’s not his fault I can’t even do a one-night stand right. I’m all twisted up in my head, thinking through every scenario. I haven’t showered since last night, and I’ve been running around all day. With everything I had to drink tonight, I don’t feel particularly sexy at the moment anyway. In fact, I’m feeling kind of bloaty and—

“Poppy.”

A large hand clasps down on my shoulder, pulling me backward. I spin around, following the colorful spray of tattoos up the forearm to see Lukas standing there looking murderous. The music changes and the lights switch to red and orange, the colors dancing like flames on his face. I swear, he looks like a sexy devil glaring down at me.

My heart beats with instant relief. “Lukas—”

“Let’s go,” he says, extracting me from Kyle’s embrace.

But Kyle doesn’t let go. “Hey, pal. Take your hands off her. Poppy and I were just about to leave.”

On instinct, I grab a handful of Lukas’s shirt. He glances down, a question in his eyes. I answer with a pleading look of my own. His jaw tightens as he wraps his tattooed arm around my shoulders. He raises his free hand toward Kyle, pointing a finger in the air. “First, I am not your pal. Second”—he flicks up another finger—“Poppy isn’t going anywhere with you, now or ever. You had a nice dance, and now it’s time for you to go.”

Kyle huffs, alcohol and embarrassment fueling him as he glances around. “I’m sorry, is she your girl or something? Because I’ve been rubbing my dick up on her for the last twenty minutes, and you’ve been nowhere to be seen, asshole—”

“Lukas,no.” I press my hands against his chest and push him back. I think he was just about to punch this investment banker in the face.

Lukas keeps his arm around me, even as he tries to step in on Kyle. “Say that again to my fuckin’ face, you khaki-wearing, limp dick motherfucker!”

“Donottouch him.” I push on his hard chest again. “Lukas, let’s go.”

“Keep your girl on a tighter leash next time,” Kyle shouts. His friends have sensed the disturbance and they’re edging closer, hackles raised in alarm.

Oh, this cannot happen. My hot-headed hockey player is not getting in a fight over me in the middle of this club. “Lukas,please,” I beg again, pressing my whole body against him. If he’s going to fight Kyle, he’ll have to physically remove me first to do it.

Lukas glances down at me again, his hand bracing my hip. There’s a fire in his eyes like I’ve never seen before, and it’s not just this sultry light show. He looks like he’s ready to peel his skin off and morph into a dragon. It’s hot and scary and my brain feels like jelly as I take any opening I can find. I reach up, cupping his face with both hands. “Lukas, honey,lookat me,” I all but shout. “Look only at me. He doesn’t matter, okay? He’s gone. He’s leaving.”

His hand tightens on my hip, fingers splayed wide as he pulls me closer. My hips press in against his thigh. I’m practically straddling his leg and—

Oh my—is he hard right now?

My heart races faster. Something about all this is turning him on. I know it can’t be me. I drive him crazy. Every other word out of his mouth seems to be a teasing joke or an expletive. And most of the time the only physical response I can elicit from him is a long-suffering eye roll or an annoyed huff.

But I’m pressed up against him now, his arm around me like he’s Tarzan and I’m Jane, and he is definitely feeling some kind of way about it. I lower a hand back to his chest, pressing my palm over his heart. Oh god, it’s racing too. A muscle in his jaw is ticking. He’s like a bomb ready to explode.

I brush my thumb over the stubble on his cheek, right where I know a dimple hides. “Lukas, take me back. I want to go back to the hotel now. Please.”

Behind us, Kyle’s friends are pulling him away. The tension dissolves, and dancers start to press back in around us. Lukas keeps his hands on me, his body stiff as he peers over my head, eyes narrowed.

“Let’s go,” I say again.

“Not yet. That douche and his friends are leaving. I’m not taking you outside until I know they’re gone.”

“Well, we can’t just stand here.” I glance around, noting the way people are still watching us. “Lukas,please.” I brush my hands down his arms, following the corded muscle until I reach his hands on my hips. I turn around in his hold so we’re back to front. Lacing our fingers together, I step forward, pulling him behind me.

He lets himself be led, his fingers wrapping possessively around mine as he stays in step with me. I head over to the far end of the bar, finding a solitary open stool. Lukas helps me onto it, his front pressed against my back as he braces the bar with his hands to either side of me. Angry, possessive Lukas was really working for me, but it was all a show to get Kyle to go away. “You can drop the act now,” I call over my shoulder. “I’m in no danger from Lord Khaki Pants.”

---