She pulls back, her hands pressed to my chest as if holding me at bay, and she might have to. Her body might be sending me signals, but mine is programmed to receive.
Her breathing grows erratic as her tits dance up and down.Look up, look up, I repeat over and over to myself. Nothing ruins the intensity of a moment more than a quick glance to the girls. And this is Poppy. As far as she goes, I shouldn’t even be aware of the fact she has them, let alone have thoughts of landing my mouth over each one. I could map out nine different ways I’d love to devour them.
She clears her throat. “I think we’d better make some pizza before that oven burns the entire house down. It’s getting pretty hot in here.”
“Sure thing, Eight Ball. I’ll turn on the pizza oven.” I give a little wink, and she swats me. Poppy pulls her phone out and puts on some music, a playlist she callsSedated, and we get down to the very serious business of building our own pizzas. I’m just about to put all six into the oven, and Poppy comes at me with a handful of purple onions.
“Wait! One more dash for good luck.”
“Good luck for what? You keeping the vampires at bay tonight?”
“That’s garlic, you moron, not onions—onions make them cry. Which reminds me.” She tosses on a few cloves of the demon-warding root, and I dive the pies into the fire before she decides to toss on a watermelon. “And I’m not trying to ward off any vampires.” She glances to the living room, and I do the same. Sure enough, we’ve sidelined my mother’s icescapes for the evening because her attention is zeroed in on us.
Poppy doesn’t miss a beat. She lands her fingers in my hair, raking her nails gently over my scalp over and over again, and I’d be a liar in the pit of hell if I didn’t say it feels damn good. Poppy looks me right in the eye with those lawn green lenses, her lips form into the perfect little pout, and it’s taking superhuman strength not to kiss them. “I have a feeling it’syouI need to keep at bay.” Her finger touches my nose when she says it, and her hips swivel against mine as we start slow dancing to the music. “I saw the way you were looking at my boobs.” She makes a face, and I cringe.
“I didn’t look at your boobs,” I whisper, tossing a quick glance over my shoulder. “And would you keep it down?” A laugh strums from me because we happen to be off to a great start on our pizza adventure. Slow dancing with Poppy? Six pizzas in the oven? Who knew one of the best dates of the year would take place in my mother’s kitchen of all places?
“You wanted to sneak a peek.” She gives a conniving grin. “I can tell. I can read your mind, remember?”
A warm smile comes to me. When we were kids, Poppy would swear up and down she knew what I was thinking, and eerily no matter how hard I tested her telepathic abilities, nine times out of ten she was right.
“Busted.” I close my eyes a moment. “But in my defense, the girls are right there.” My voice breaks as a sad laugh emits from me. “You’ve donned a rather eye-poppingdress—pun intended.” The music picks up, and I press my hips closer to hers as we keep time to the rhythm.
“Oh—ho!” She belts out a laugh. “So, you’re blaming me for the fact you can’t keep your eyeballs in their sockets? I bet you have at least a dozen sexual harassment suits filed against you. And now it all makes total sense why you have Conner on your payroll.”
Now it’s me belting out a laugh.
“You kids smell something burning?” Mom shouts from the living room.
“Shit.” I work to get the pizzas out and land four nearly charred messes onto the counter. Two come out unscathed. “We’ve got it under control,” I shout back before glancing to Poppy. “One for each of us. I hope you’re not too hungry.”
“Are you kidding? I’m starved. You’re lucky my anchovies made it out unsinged, Gordo, or you’d have to call whoever chopped up all those veggies to get right back to the drawing board.”
“Ah, busted again.” I laugh, landing her salty catch of the day pizza onto a plate and do the same for mine. “Follow me, Eight Ball. It’s time for the grand finale.”
Not only is the dining room perfectly parallel to the couch that my mother is firmly seated on while feasting on Ben and Jerry’s, but I know for a factSixteen Candleshappens to be Poppy Montgomery’s favorite movie, and I’m about to kill two birds with one pizza-sized stone.
I set the plates onto the center of the dining room table and hop up on the lengthy mahogany monstrosity that can easily sit fifty and help Poppy climb onboard as well.
“What in the H-E-double-hockey sticks are you up to?” Her hair flashes around as she gets herself settled. I’ve always been fascinated by her long glossy hair. Once in that tired tree house of mine she set it out the window like Rapunzel. The light hit her just right, and it was the first time I thought that my best friend was beautiful. I guess it’s fair to say that Poppy’s hair started it all.
A warm laugh tumbles from me at the fact she ditched the hardcore language. “You remember the no expletives rule.”
“Are you kidding? I once accused Conner of farting in here, and I was banished from video games for a week.”
“Well, technically, that is anFword, and if you use it again I might have to implement my own form of punishment.”
She makes a face as she sits with her legs crossed, and I do the same. “I’d say it again, but personally it would ruin my Jake Ryan moment. Why must you invoke the seductive powers of a John Hughes movie on me, Gordo? You know I’m a sucker for a good romantic scene recreation. What’s next? Are you taking me shopping on Rodeo Drive so I can be your call girl for the weekend?”
“You are a pretty woman.” I tick my head to the side, proud of the fact I got that reference. “Now kiss me.” I lean in and pucker my lips. From the periphery, I see my mother bring her phone up, just waiting for the perfect moment to snap that picture. I have no doubt I know where she’ll be sending it. And I’m sure it’ll make the blog come morning, too.
“A kiss, huh? Just give me a sec.” She picks up a giant hunk of garlic off her pizza and chews the shit out of it before fanning herself as she forces it down her throat. “’Kay, I’m ready.”
The olfactory assault hits me before she ever leans in, and yet even that doesn’t scare me away. “I hope you realize I can see the fumes pluming from your breath.”
“You like?” She pops another one into her mouth and moans as she leans in hard. “So good. I bet all the girls wish they could sanitize their mouths with vampire repellant once you come in for the kill. You do know that garlic is a natural disinfectant. I bet it can kill all that fungi you have lingering around in that mouth of yours.” She gives a cheeky grin, clearly proud of her knowledge of mythological blood-sucking creatures. “How many Whoppers are your boxers serving now, anyway? A million? I guess it’s lucky for me that you prefer hamburgers over hot dogs.”
“You’re not funny.” A short-lived laugh trembles through me regardless. “And is that the kind of talk you seduce those L.A. boys with?”
