Page 32 of Poppy Kisses
“Night, Poppy,” came his muffled reply.
I snuck another glance at Jensen and caught him watching me as he downed his water, his throat working over each swallow. He pushed out one of the glasses he’d set on the island.
“I’ll shower first.” Otherwise, I’d linger around him like a dog in heat.
He was not interested.
I turned my back on him and went into my room. By the time I gathered my toiletries and clothing, he had left the kitchen. The floor creaked upstairs, and Auggie’s slight weight couldn’t do that.
I set all my things on the sink counter. Swallowing, I took in the view. His razor and shaving cream were tucked in the corner. The toothpaste and his toothbrush were haphazardly tossed next to them. A bottle of mouthwash sat in the corner. That was all guy. It had to look like I lived here.
Nerves fluttered through my belly. I’d been prepared to pretend, but I hadn’t been ready for the intimacy it required. He might have any guests over, or Aunt Linda could come here next week and use this bathroom.
As soon as my things were laid out on the other side of the counter, I spun toward the bathtub. Seeing our personal items mingling…did things to me. Made my belly flutter. Images of me and him intertwined flashed in my head.
Oh god. I couldn’t have that. I was getting too awkward, too aware, around him.
I showered and dried off, feeling better. The low burn deep inside me didn’t let up, but I was close to the reprieve of my room. I could call Clover and distract myself. I would not tell her I was hot for Jensen. Those confessions needed some alcohol and a place where he wasn’t.
I lifted my pajama top and was mid-shrug into it when I stalled. Crap. I didn’t bring a bra or underwear. All I had were my sweaty clothes, and I wasn’t putting them back on. Oh well, it was just a few steps to my bedroom. I finished dressing and then my gaze caught the mirror. I’d picked my white pajama top and bottoms. The thin material clung to my breasts, and my hair dripped wet spots right over them.
I was all out of my routine. I could wrap my hair in a towel, but I didn’t want to hang the wet fabric on a dresser. I already had this shirt, and I’d change and hang it up. I’d have to get a clothes basket. My hair dryer was in the room, so it’d be fine.
Just a few steps. I could hold my toiletry bag in front— No. That was staying in here until I bought some holders and baskets for my hair products and moisturizer. It had to look like I was doing more than staying overnight. I bundled my dirty clothes together, stuffing my underclothes into my pants.
I cracked open the door and stopped to listen. No more footsteps sounded from upstairs. I would be quick, and maybe he wouldn’t see how short my pajama bottoms were. Jensen was just turning into the little hallway nook. I ran right into him and my clothing dropped.
“Shit, sorry.” He stooped to pick it up, but his gaze landed on my legs and he stopped. “Jesus.” He recovered and grabbed the pile of clothes. My yellow underwear fell out. He paused for a second, enough for pure mortification to swamp me, then he quickly stuffed it back into the clump.
His head was so close to my legs. When did I last shave? “Sorry.”
He rose, slower than when he’d bent. “’S all right,” he said gruffly. He jerked his focus off my legs, hit my boobs, and heat smoldered in his stormy gaze. With a choking sound, he tore his attention away.
I looked down at myself only to see both of my nipples poking right through the sodden fabric. Shit! I snapped my clothing from him and hugged it to me. He propped his hands on his hips, then stuffed his fingers through his hair, and finally rested his hands back on his hips.
So…this was getting uncomfortable. “I, um, should get a few things for the bathroom. To make it look like I live here.”
“Sure, yeah. Whatever you need.” His voice was rough. “Night, Poppy.” He pivoted away and shut himself in his bedroom.
“Night, Jensen,” I uttered, whether he heard me or not.
I hugged my dirty clothes. Then I glanced around before shimmying my shoulders. My taut nipples scraped against my shirt. What would his calloused fingers feel like? Had that emotion clogging his gaze been for me?
What was I thinking?
I shook myself and scurried to my bedroom, closing the door and my growing attraction to Jensen on the other side.
* * *
Jensen
I sat on the couch after getting Auggie to bed and stared at a show I wasn’t paying attention to. Poppy was in the shower again. It’s been an entire goddamn week of having the image of her full tits pressed against a damp shirt haunting me. Seven days of going to bed hard and trying to sleep when I knew she was only across the hallway.
Each day, I went deeper into hell. The last week had been the most excruciating of my life. I could only escape her in my room. The bathroom smelled like sunshine and peaches. Each time my gaze landed on her lotion, I imagined her bent over, toned leg extended, and rubbing it all over.
Now I was hard again. Pulling a blanket over my lap, I pressed down as if my dick would listen and winced just as she was coming out of the bathroom. But I didn’t look away. Was I going to get another view of that sweet, lush body?
She’d wrapped a towel around her hair, but she was in different pajamas. The navy-blue shirt was looser and definitely less peep-friendly. I approved of the short shorts. When did I become such a leg man?
