Poppy was in serious trouble.A Decker-sized problem. And she wasn’t sure what to do about it.
So she did the only thing a woman in her situation could do—she kissed him.
Right on the mouth.
Gentle and tender, conveying just how special he was—not just to her but to everyone around him.
It angered her that his family didn’t see just how torn he was between following his own happy or making others happy. It was a place Poppy had been before, and it could tear a person in two. She didn’t want that for Decker, because once a person was pulled to pieces it was impossible to sew them back together in the way they’d been before.
She was about to pull back when Decker’s hands slid up into her hair as he cupped her jaw and deepened the kiss. He didn’t speed it up or raise the heat but kissed her languorously and thoroughly. Their lips skated over each other again and again as if they were teenagers exploring for the first time.
And that’s exactly how each swipe felt—like an exploration of her body, mind, and—as he pulled back to stare into her eyes—soul.
“What was that?” she breathed against his mouth.
“Me chasing happy.”
“Kissing me makes you happy?” she teased, but he didn’t laugh.
“You.” His thumb traced her lower lip. “You make me happy.”
“Then why did you stop?”
A smile tugged at his lips—and her heart. There was something in his gaze that she’d ignored for weeks, but it was impossible to look past now. In fact, she didn’t want to pretend, she wanted to feel the entire scope of what he was telling her.
“Oh, we’re just getting started. And if we’re going for the fullexperience, I should let you know that this makes me happy as fuck.”
Before she knew what was happening, Decker had picked her up and set her on his lap so that she was straddling him. To remain upright her hands went to his big, broad, well-honed shoulders. His hands? They went straight to her ass.
“And in case you were wondering just how happy you make me, I thought I’d show you.” He yanked her close and she could feel his enormous happy pressed against her core.
“That’s a pretty big display of happy.”
“You know what else makes me happy?”
“What?”
“Seeing your lipstick smeared across the sheets.” And then he was kissing her again. Gone were the gentle swipes and sweet strokes and in their place was raw hunger.
To keep up, Poppy rose up on her knees, changing the angle so she could take everything he was giving her. And he gave and gave until her thighs began to tremble. And just when she thought she couldn’t take anymore, he kissed his way down her neck, to the hollow of her throat and lower until he took her breast in his mouth and sucked her through the fabric of her shirt.
“Decker,” she moaned as her head fell back.
“You like that? Then you’re going to love this.”
He peeled her shirt off and yanked her bra down so the cups made a shelf for her breasts.
“God, you’re beautiful,” he said, giving one nipple a tug with his teeth and the other a nip. She was about to insist that it was too much when, as if sensing her needs, he soothed her with his tongue.
Back and forth he went, like a starving man who was feasting on his favorite food. Her back arched, pressing herself further into his mouth and he growled in approval.
“Stand,” he ordered.
“Huh?” she said, dizzy with need.
“Stand up.”
Confused, she did as he asked and even before her feet were firmly planted on the floor he was peeling her jeans down her legs. She stepped out of them and his eyes ran the length of her.
