As soon as we’re inside the bedroom, she must be feeling what I am because she turns to me and just looks at me. Her eyes shimmer with tears, but she looks happy. “Phantom.” She says my name and steps close to me, pressing my back against the closed bedroom door. “I don’t know how to?—”
My mouth is on hers before she even gets the words out. I circle her face with my hands and kiss her soft and slow. Our first real kiss. She whimpers as our tongues tangle gently, then rough, and my cock goes hard as a lead pipe.
She leans her hips against mine, and her hands are suddenly everywhere. Tugging at my hips, scratching the back of my neck. I plunge my tongue into her mouth and taste every sweet flavor that is her. But it’s not enough. I need more. I want her more than I want to breathe my next breath.
I pick her up, and she wraps her legs around my hips. I stagger over to the bed and set her on her back, then graze my hand over the front of her dress.
“Poppy,” I grit out, hoarse with need. “I want to?—”
I don’t even get the words out when she moves her hands to the top of her dress. She wriggles her arms and shoves the soft fabric down, exposing her breasts to me.
“Fuck, you’re perfect.”
With her lying back on my bed, her hair spilling out on the blankets, I’m speechless. I can’t fucking form a coherent thought. I can’t move. I forget all about time, the compound. Everything. Everything but her.
“Phantom, please…” She’s breathing softly through parted lips, and she cups her tits with her hands. “I need to feel your mouth on me.”
She doesn’t have to ask me twice. I drop my mouth to her perfect breast and draw the entire nipple into my mouth. Her peak is hard and soft and so, so tender. She squirms and huffs hot little whimpers as I suck her nipple and squeeze her breast in my hand.
My cock is throbbing and desperate for release, but I’m in a frenzy. I want this woman worse than I’ve ever wanted anything. She’s like a virus that has infected me, claiming me from the inside.
I lightly pinch her nipples with my fingertips until she’s gasping and bucking her hips against me. But I’m not going to let the first time she comes be from dry humping me. I move my hands from her tits to her thighs, kneading and stroking her thick muscles until my hands are under her skirt.
I brush my fingers across the front of her panties,and she’s drenched. So wet that my dick jerks behind my zipper as I shove the panties to one side. I’m just about to stroke her, to touch her, when she stops me.
“Phantom. Wait.”
I’m breathing hard. My cock is hard. And my self-control is difficult to pull back. But at the smallest sign from her, I freeze, my fingers under the elastic of her panties.
“This is a lot for me. I need to slow down.” She rolls off the bed, adjusts her dress, and lowers her skirt to mid-thigh. She walks over to the window and stares out over the lawn.
“Did I do something wrong? Was I too rough, too…” I’m behind her in an instant, ready to apologize, ready to say or do anything to make it right if I went too far, asked for too much.
“No. God, no.” She turns and faces me, her cheeks flushed as bright as when she had her fever. “You’re perfect. Too perfect. If we didn’t stop, I don’t think I could have.”
“We’re consenting adults, babe,” I remind her. “We can fuck when and how we want to. And if you don’t want to, we wait.”
She lowers her forehead against my chest and draws in a shaky breath. “I haven’t felt like that with anyone, not even my husband. And if I ever felt anything even close, I definitely don’t remember now.”
I hold her tight against me, a selfish grin on my face. “Baby, that was not even foreplay. That was barely getting started.”
She groans, and the sound travels straight to mycock. “Soon, okay? I just need a little more time to be ready and maybe a chance to shave?”
I release her and cup her chin with my hand. “Babe, you could be hairier than a woolly fucking mammoth, and I’d still want to fuck you into our next lifetime. You hear me? You’re perfect.” And she is. Absolutely fucking perfect.
She sighs and looks out over my yard, so I stand behind her, wrap my arms around her, and press my still-hard cock against her ass. “When you’re ready,” I start, but as soon as I look out the window, the words die on my lips.
“What is it?” she asks, turning toward me. “Phantom?”
“Stay here,” I tell her. I rush to my dresser, open the middle top drawer, and grab the Glock I keep there. “I saw something in the pool house. Stay here and lock the bedroom door when I leave.”
I take off running down the stairs, flying through the house, and shoving past the patio doors. The pool house has cameras on it and an alarm that the kids can disable when they swim so every movement doesn’t give off an alert. There’s no sign of a break-in, but I swear I see something floating in the pool.
I pull on the door to the pool house, and it opens without a code. It’s unlocked and unarmed. Anyone could have gotten in and done anything. They wouldn’t have been able to get into the house, but still.
My weapon cocked, safety off, I look through the pool house. There’s nowhere to hide but the mechanicalcloset, so I kick the door open to make sure it’s empty. It is. No sign of anyone in here.
Certain that I’m alone, I click the safety on my gun and walk up to the edge of the pool. And then what I spotted from my bedroom comes into focus. Rats. Dead rats. At least a dozen of them. Floating in my fucking pool.
