“Come here.” She motions for me to step out from under the water. She turns off the faucet and flips the dial so the tub starts to fill. She sets the shower curtain outside of the tub and sits down, gesturing for me to sit in front of her.
I do as she says, positioning myself between her legs. She drips a handful of shampoo into her palms and gets to work massaging and soaping my head.
“Sweet Jesus,” I tell her. “No wonder people pay an arm and leg for this. You’re incredible.”
She laughs, and I rest my hands on her knees while she scratches and massages my scalp. We don’t talk, the sound of the tap filling the tub the only sound in the room.
“Are you hurt?” she asks quietly. “You’re bleeding, Phantom.”
I look down at my arm and notice the places where I picked glass from my skin are dotted with dried blood and a couple of gouges.
“It’s nothin’,” I tell her. “I’m all right.”
She doesn’t press me, and I’m grateful. I don’t want to talk. I don’t like what I felt tonight. I have to be careful now because I have people to be careful for.
After she’s done with my hair, she works the shampoo deep into the knots in my neck. It feels so good, I just want to sleep. Let my head roll back and lose myself in her touch. But the bathtub is full of soap and blood, dirt and sweat, and I feel relaxed but not clean.
“Let’s rinse off,” I tell her. I take her hand, and we stand. I drain the tub and flip the showerhead back on. We rinse off, wrap ourselves in towels, and climb into bed slightly damp.
The lights are off, and I make sure the house is armed. Then I shut off my phone. Stella’s party is still in full swing, no doubt. There’s nothing anybody’s going to need me for, and if they do, fuck ’em.
Under the covers, Poppy snuggles against me, herdamp hair sticking to my chest. I don’t even mind. It smells sweet and expensive. Like her.
“Talked to my mom tonight,” she says softly.
I grunt. I’m sure she wouldn’t tell me about this if the news wasn’t good. I’m clearly in no mood for any more bad news.
“She thinks you’re sexy.” Poppy laughs. “A little weird coming from my mom, but she’s not wrong.”
I let myself smile at that. “Hmmm.”
“And,” she continues, “she said she’s proud of you.”
My eyes fly open at that. “Come again.”
“She’s proud of you. She knows who you are, Phantom. She knows about the club, what you all do. I guess you have a reputation around town.”
I do have a reputation, so I can’t imagine what the fuck Lori Davis would be proud of me for. If it’s worth telling, I’m sure Poppy will share it.
She doesn’t say anything more, though. She presses her ass against me, and my cock takes notice.
“You going to tell me?” I ask. “Or should I fuck it out of you?”
She moans, a deep, sexy sound, and the blood in my entire body shoots straight to my cock.
“Is that last thing an option?” she asks. “You’re tired.”
I say nothing. Just nudge her ass cheeks with the head of my massive erection. “More than an option. Now, it’s a need.”
“Will the kids hear?” she asks.
“Depends on how loud you scream.” I roll over and grab a condom from my bedside table. The lights areout, and with the room-darkening curtains, I can’t see her gorgeous eyes, her damp curls. But I can feel the curve of her hip, the ways she shifts her weight and sighs as I lie on my side and slip my hand between her thighs.
“Your clit is my new favorite thing,” I whisper, stoking her,
I cover her mouth with mine, kissing her until she whimpers. I slide the condom on and feel between her legs. She’s soaked for me.
“My good girl,” I breathe the praise against her lips. Then I kiss her, flicking my tongue against hers, tasting her as my cock slides in deep, seating myself as far inside her as I can go, and then I drag my cock out slowly, making sure she feels every single inch of me. She gasps, and I cover her mouth with mine. “Shh,” I remind her. “That’s a good girl. Take all of me.”
