Page 65 of Keeper
Her breath falters as I inhale deeply, devouring her scent before my tongue swipes out and licks, relishing in the taste of her salty skin. “Then you left me to eat with the girls.”
She tilts her head to the side to give me better access. “I think you were the one to leave me first.”
I ponder this for a second, knowing she’s probably telling the truth. “We were getting older. It became harder to be around you,” I murmur.
“How hard?” She reaches back and strokes me over my trousers. “This hard?”
I slam my eyes shut and attempt to clear my head enough to answer. “At times.”
Her hand squeezes the length of me. “But you never looked at me like you did so many other girls.”
I shake my head and croak out, “That’s because you were just Poppy back then.”
“Just Poppy,” she parrots and her hand stills.
She begins pulling away, so I quickly turn her in my arms and crook my finger under her chin to look into her eyes. The hurt on her face is crushing.
“It’s not like that,” I say, rubbing the backs of my fingers along her cheek. “Saying ‘just Poppy’ was a compliment. You were my best mate. I couldn’t see you any other way because I was young and stupid and I needed you as a friend more than anything else.”
“It makes me sound dispensable.” Her voice is sad.
“Never,” I argue. “Hell, even after you quit eating lunch with me, I used to make sure our tables were near each other. Didn’t you ever notice that?”
Her glassy eyes find mine. “No.” Shock and disbelief are written all over her face.
I step in a little closer and slide my hands around her waist, anchoring them together on the small of her back. “I liked being near you because when you were truly happy, even if it wasn’t directed at me, it made me happy, too.”
“It did?” She tilts her head, an adorable crinkle between her brow that I have to lean in and kiss.
“Yes,” I murmur against her forehead, letting my lips linger there for a minute. “And if you weren’t happy, I’d do anything I could to make you happy.”
I pull back and she smiles, earning herself another kiss.
“That smile.” I smirk. “That’s a beauty a fifteen-year-old boy cannot appreciate properly.”
A softness fills her gaze that pierces me in the chest. All of the sudden, I can see us as children again. There was such simplicity to our lives back then. Such ease and clear boundaries. Those boundaries are gone now and, as terrified as I am, I can’t turn back. I don’t want to turn back.
My hand slides up to lower the zipper on her side. She bites her lip as I do and then shifts to pull her arms out. I squat and push the dress down over her hips, all the way to her bare feet. She must have kicked her heels off during our walk to my bedroom, but I sure as hell didn’t notice.
She steps out of the offensive material as I drag my fingers up the backs of her legs, dropping soft kisses on her hips and stomach during my ascent. My fingers linger over the swells of her arse until I move to the back of her bra.
“I’m not a boy anymore,” I husk, deftly undoing the clasp. The garment drops with a soft thud. I stare at her face for a long pause. It’s a meaningful look. It’s telling her this isn’t just about sex. It’s abouther. I want to see and feel Poppy in a way that I never have before. “Now I’m a man.”
Cupping the weight of her bare breasts in my hands, I slowly roll her nipples between my fingers. “I like this,” I say, dragging my finger over her piercing reverently.
“Oh my God.” Her eyes close and she whimpers. A thrill shoots through me when I realise she could likely come from nipple play alone if I teased it long enough.
“Do you like it when I touch it?” I pull on the bar softly.
She nods and rubs her thighs together, need evident all over her flushed, naked body. “God, yes.”
“But only me,” I state with an authoritative tone.
Her eyes open and lock on mine. “Only you.”
A soft smile spreads across my face. “I like having this part of you all to myself.”
She swallows and nods. “It’s yours.”
