Page 39 of Poppy Kisses
Oh. Ouch. The tangle of my conflicted emotions pushed against my chest walls. “Of course you didn’t.”
His brow furrowed. “Poppy, talk to me. Do youwantme to flirt with you?”
“No, that’s absurd.”
You know who’d look even better in a dress? Hassie.
You know who has the prettiest eye color in the world? Hassie.
You know which woman I’d rather be married to?
He’d never said that last one, but I could extrapolate. I needed to get away from him and his broad shoulders and those searching, caring eyes. I was mistaking his feelings for genuine affection. We were friends. We had never been more than friends, and we never would be, wedding vows or not.
I made another attempt for the bedroom, but he rushed to block me, standing in the opening. “Can you talk to me?”
“There’s nothing to say.” I backed up. I’d sleep in the office upstairs if he pushed me. “It’s getting late.”
“Bullshit.”
I glared at him and tried ducking around him. “Jensen.”
“Poppy.” He scooted over and blocked me.
He wouldn’t let me out of this... A smile played along his lips like he was just waiting for me to take the bait and race him around the island.
“Not everything’s a game, Jensen.”
Finally, his smile broke out, and my stupid belly flipped. “No, that’s absurd.” He echoed my earlier answer. “But if I catch you, you have to be honest.”
“Do not.”
His eyes lit. Damn. I would race him and he knew it.
Then I’d better not let him catch me. I sprinted to my left, going for the island. Laughter broke out of him and he raced around the other side. He was fast, and he was toying with me. I spun just as he rounded the end and dashed in the other direction. I slowed, pretending like I was doing it so I didn’t slide and crash into the oven and fridge. He was almost on me when I whirled again and put on my thrusters.
My heart was in my throat, but I was almost free of the island when Jensen leaped over it, hip sliding on it like it was a race car. He landed in front of me, and I ran smack into his hard chest. He wrapped his strong arms around me.
“That’s cheating!” I sounded like I was ten again, but I didn’t care. His body was solid and warm and his face was inches from mine.
“Was not.” The words came out a rasp, and we both stilled. His gaze dipped to my lips. “You never could stand it when I came out on top.”
“It’s not that. You were a dick about it.”
“Probably,” he murmured. “I’m not anymore, but I do like being on top.”
Awareness of every inch that was smashed against him crept in. The band of his arms. The way his chest pressed against me with every breath. I wanted to drink him in. I couldn’t. “I like to be on top too,” I murmured.
A lazy grin spread across his face. “Now I know you’re telling the truth.”
His smile faded, and his attention was back on my lips. He dipped his head. My heart stopped. His warm lips brushed against mine. My knees wobbled, and I might’ve gone down if he wasn’t holding me.
He deepened the kiss, opening slightly. I answered, and when he gently licked his tongue out, tasting me, I invited him in. Flattening my hands on his chest, I felt the vibration of his small groan. I was caught between wanting to rub my palms all over his head, stuff them in his hair, or hook them around his neck and hang. This guy could kiss. He was stroking and sensual and he’d learned?—
He’d learned from his ex. His high school sweetheart. The woman he married.
I jerked back. His eyelids slid open, confusion ripe in his blue-gray irises.
“We can’t do this.” I backed up a step and his hold loosened, letting me go. “You’re not…” My type? Into me? Over your ex?
