Page 20 of Marked for Obsession

Why his opinion of her mattered was beyond Poppy’s comprehension. The irritating man sure as heck didn’t seem to care what she thought of him. Not with that cocky, smug, arrogant attitude of his.

Poppy balled up her fist and struck her pillow again, this time envisioning it was one of Jackass Jax’s muscular biceps she was striking. With her head nestled snuggly on the newly plumped pillow, she pulled the covers up to her chin and stared up at the ceiling.

So Monroe was a smartass. Big deal. It wasn’t like she was trying todatethe guy. She just needed his help finding out what happened to that poor man in the alley.

Besides, she hadn’t been lying when she’d told him he wasn’t her type.

The men she’d dated in the past were mostly well-mannered farm boys. With their clean-cut style and respectable conversations, they’d been perfectly pleasant to be around.

Nothing at all like the tattooed biker-type P.I. she’d spent much of her morning with.

So no, Jax wasn’t her usual type. Not even a little bit. So why had she spent the last few hours fighting off unwanted images of the two of them together when she should be sleeping?

Because you want him. Smart mouth and all.

Poppy couldn’t even lie to her subconscious. Something about the big jerk called to her in a way no other man had before. And no matter how hard she fought it, every time she closed her eyes, it was his face she saw.

His dark onyx eyes staring back at hers. His lips pressing against her lips. Those strong hands of his touching her while his massive arms held her close.

The man’s a player, Pop. A player who probably doesn’t even find you attractive.

With the smooth white ceiling still locked in her gaze, Poppy filled her lungs and released a loud sigh. Whether or not Jax found her attractive was irrelevant. All that mattered was that he agree to help her uncover the truth.

She glanced at the digital clock on her nightstand. It had been four hours since she’d left his club. Four hours since they’d parted ways with his promise to call by the end of the day to give her his decision. And if he didn’t take her case…

I’ll just have to investigate the case myself.

Resigned to the possibility, Poppy closed her eyes and forced her body to relax. Minutes later, she was finally,finallyon the verge of falling into a deep, relaxing sleep when something woke her with a start.

Poppy’s heavy lids lifted, her sleepy gaze scanning her bedroom in an attempt to determine what exactly had pulled her from what had promised to be a restful slumber. She listened closely, but after several seconds of nothingness, she chalked it up to the opening tendrils of a dream and let her eyes fall closed once more.

Like before, her limbs became heavy, her breathing beginning to shallow. And then…

There it is again.

Unable to let it go, Poppy threw off her covers and swung her legs over the edge of the mattress. Dressed in nothing but her dad’s old Navy t-shirt from back in the day and a pair of white cotton panties, she padded across the room’s wood flooring in search of whatever had woken her.

What if it’s a mouse…or worse, a rat?

Poppy’s gut tightened at the thought. The place wasn’t the most elaborate of apartments. Not by a long shot. But it was clean and well-maintained, which was one of the reasons she’d chosen to live here.

Still she knew as well as most that even those who lived in the most pristine of homes could encounter the occasional sneaky rodent. Didn’t mean she was a fan.

Please don’t be a rat. Please don’t be a rat.

The sound reached her ears again. It was soft, almost non-existent, but it was definitely there. It was almost a mimic of her own footfalls, and if she didn’t know any better, Poppy would almost think…

There’s someone else here.

Her pulse began to race, her heart incessantly punching against her ribs. As she continued down the apartment’s narrow hallway, she kept her eyes wide open in search of the source.

Stepping past the small bathroom to her right, Poppy gave it a quick look to confirm it was empty. She continued on, making her way into her living room.

Poppy held her shallowed breath. She glanced around the small space, the air in her lungs escaping with a rush of relief when she found it, too, was also empty.

You’re being silly. There’s no one else here.

With a shake of her head, she brushed it off as a sleep-deprived hallucination and went into the kitchen for some water. Poppy opened the upper cabinet and reached for the nearest glass. Filling it halfway with water from the tap, she’d just started to take her first sip when the hair on the back of her neck stood on end.

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