Page 13 of Good Girl
“Because you’ve been such a good girl this year.” He smirks, and then, to my utter fucking shock, crashes his lips to hers. Exhilaration saturates me when she greedily accepts his advance, her hips jolting forward, rocking against my lap and sending heat racing up my spine.
Suddenly, the elevator shudders, and the lights switch on, blinding us.
“Good news. We will have you moving in a few minutes.” The voice coming through the intercom has Poppy pushing away from us with a little squeak. I watch her sexy fucking body as she jumps to her feet, the lace of her panties the only thing keeping her pussy hidden from us. She’s a work of art. Nothing I imagined did her justice.
When she turns around to face us, she startles, looking at Vance, who gets to his feet. Poppy’s jaw goes slack, a hand landing on her chest like she’s seen a ghost.
What the hell happened? I look around the small space, standing up to see what spooked her, but it’s just us in here.
“It’s you?” she gulps, not taking her gaze from Vance, her eyes expanding.
I look between them, confusion swarming in my brain like bees. “You know each other?” My finger flits between them.
He says, “No,” as she says, “Yes,” a pink blush staining her neck before moving up to her cheeks like a rising tide.
Clearing his throat, Vance bows his head, “This is the girl from the hotel last night.” Grimacing and rubbing a hand across his jaw, his words are barely audible.
Bullshit.
My mind goes to the jar of sweets she gifted me with the damn hotel sticker on.
No fucking way.
I’m pretty sure the elevator plummeted an hour ago and I’m laying at the bottom with my brain spilled across the floor. “The escort?” I ask for confirmation because he’s got to be messing with me. Because there’s no fucking way. This is a joke they somehow concocted to fuck with me.
I grimace when Poppy slaps at hand to cover her mouth like she’s about to throw up. “I may have got that part wrong.” Vance frowns, raking his eyes over her.
“You think?” I growl, my mind churning, trying to recall everything he told me about what they did last night. Mother fucking lucky bastard.
She runs a hand through her hair and blows out a harsh breath before turning from us and staring at the numbers that begin ascending on the control panel. Vance and I right our clothing then collect our sacks, looking back-and-forth between each other and Poppy. I can’t fucking believe he got inside Poppy when I’ve been dreaming of doing just that for the last three months. How could he mistake her for an escort? You can cut the atmosphere with my hard fucking cock, it’s that thick.
The elevator pings, and the door slides open to loud music and voices chatting. Poppy’s breathing fills the space inside our box, none of us making a move to leave. When the doors close then ping back open, I say, “My place?”
“Fucking right,” Vance rumbles. Poppy doesn’t look at either of us, her red fingernail pushing thebuttonto close the doors then hits the one for the parking garage.
SIX
Poppy
Ican’t breathe. My lungs won’t fill.
Is this really happening? My mind is spinning, and every inch of me feels like it’s on fire.
My heels clicking against the concrete echo in the parking garage as I follow Tristan to a black SUV, trying not to think about the fact that the man who rocked my world last night is his best friend. Vance’s long legs eat up the ground ahead of us, popping the trunk then dumping their Santa sacks inside. I push my box skirt down my legs, and he snatches it up and tosses that in the trunk too before I slide into the back seat. My heart is racing so intensely that I feel like it might crack a rib.
Goose bumps rise all over my skin when Tristan climbs in the back with me, wearing nothing but his Santa pants.
“My dad dressed as Santa once,” I murmur.
Tristan smirks, licking his lips as Vance slides his tall frame into the driver’s seat. “Did he spank you?” His voice drips with lust, fire spilling into his eyes as he rakes his gaze over my panties.
Shaking my head, my lips tremble. “No.”
“Then we’re not the same type of daddy, Poppy.”
I have to stifle a moan when he drags his fingers up my exposed thigh. My pulse drums under my skin, desire spreading throughout every part of my body as Tristan’s caress brings back thoughts of how Vance touched me last night. My pussy clenches, the atmosphere crackles with tension. I need a release.
“You’re not getting your money back,” I finally say to Vance who grins at me in the rearview mirror. “Do you often pay for sex?”
