Page 32 of Good Girl
Angling his hips, he pushes into my ass, using the juices from Poppy’s pussy, slathering his cock to ease the entry. “Fuck, Vance.” My chest hums with contentment. Grinding his hips, he fucks me slow in a torturous rhythm, controlling the pace at which I fuck Poppy. We’re all limbs, teeth, tongues, pure rapture unfurls up my spine, bleeding through every pore until my balls draw up, and my cock pulses, filling Poppy’s ass up while Vance spills his load inside me.Perfection.
Sitting at my desk a couple of days later, frustration tugs at my brow as I listen to Randal, my lawyer, rattle on about it being Christmas Eve, so we can’t buy property on short notice.
“I don’t care what it takes. I’ll buy the whole damn building if need be. Just give them whatever they want for it, and make sure I can get rid of any tenant straight away.”
“Which one pissed you off?” At his loud exhale, I briefly pull the phone away from my ear. Why does he have to ask questions?
“He lives in apartment 4-C. I want it done.” My hand tightens around the phone.
“Okay, okay. It’s your money”
Fucking right it is. And it’s about time I use some of the wealth I’ve made.
A mug is placed in front of me before Vance sits his ass on the lip of my desk, raising his own mug to his lips while watching me over the rim. “That’s Josh’s apartment,” he muses, and I smirk.
“Was.”
I’m transfixed by the way his muscles tense when he chuckles. Vance has been my best friend for years. Fuck, who am I kidding? He’s been more than that. We’d fucked each other in the heat of the moment, always sharing, but looking at him now—hair mussed from sleep, miles of sexy skin pulled taut over hills of muscle—I realize how much I’ve always desired him, admired him. How much I need him in my life, rely on him. Fuck, I love him.
The happiness inside me is overwhelming me. Getting to have him in my bed at night with Poppy is something I didn’t even realize I needed. We’ve crossed into new territory together, and I never want to retreat.
“What are you thinking about?” he asks, placing his mug next to mine. Does he feel that way too?
“You,” I answer honestly. “Us.” I correct.
“How so?” He crosses his arms over his chest, and I can’t ignore the tendons that bulge, wanting to lick them.
With a sprinkling of nerves littering my skin, I shift in my seat, looking out the window as rain taps against the glass. “Just how with Poppy things feel different.”
“They do,” he agrees, and I turn to face him again. A spear of warmth hits me right in the chest at the way he gazes at me, like he really wants this too. His arms drop, then the backs of his fingers brush down my cheek. “I like how it feels.” Swirling in my gut is a new sensation for me.
“I do too.” I nod, my mouth curving at the corners as I grasp the hand on my cheek and kiss his knuckles.
Leaning over me, he captures my lips for a brief kiss. “Good, because it’s not changing.”
SEVENTEEN
Poppy
Iwake in bed alone, my phone chirping on the bedside table. I check the screen to see a text from my mother. It’s the fourth one, complaining about me not coming home with Josh. He told them we had an argument, but not what over, and I don’t want to dwell on any of it right now.
In a sleepy stupor, I head down the hallway to get a drink, stopping when I walk past Tristan’s home office and hear him mention my name. I move closer to the door that’s ajar to listen.
“Have you made Poppy sign a contract?” Vance asks.
“For something this temporary? It’ll only be a couple of weeks, then she’ll be gone anyway,” Tristan replies, and my stomach knots, my heart thundering. What does that mean?
When Vance appears, I squeal and place a hand to my chest as if I can hold in my galloping heart. “You scared me.” I wish the ground would open up and swallow me, I’m so embarrassed for being caught spying.
“I’d know your breathing anywhere, Angel. Now what do naughty girls who listen in on private conversations get?” My nipples pebble at the sight of Vance as he sucks on his bottom lip, shirtless, wearing only sweats. I drop my eyes, Vance plants afinger under my chin, tipping it up so I’m forced to look into his deep, darkening gaze.
“Spanked?” I ask hopefully, and they both burst out laughing.
“Come here,” Tristan orders, sitting at a large desk.
I step over the threshold, only make it a few steps before Vance stops me with a hand to my shoulder. “Arms up,” he demands, taking the hem of my silk nightie and lifting it over my head. I’m naked beneath, the cooler air sprinkling goose bumps over my flesh. “Knees.” Vance points to the ground, the word like a caress. Tristan’s breathing escalates when I drop to obey Vance. “Crawl to your master.” At Vance’s directive, I look between them.
“Which one, sir?” My words are sultry, heat building inside me that needs to be released.
