“He seems okay. I don’t think he’ll ever get over it, but he doesn’t talk about it.”
“Do you think he’s knocking off that Violet chick that was at his place?”
“A little young for him, don’t you think?”
Dan shrugs. “Poppy’s not much older.”
“She’s twenty-five. She’s old enough.” I'm not quite old enough to be her pa. But with thirteen years between us, I have questioned my morals about making her mine. I can't stop now, though. I'm too far gone after our kiss. All I can think of is what I’m going to do to her when I get back.
18
POPPY
My fingers glide over my lips where his touch still sears my mouth. My core pulses with the need for him, and I’m no longer annoyed at being left here, or trapped here rather.
I tidy up the kitchen, then give the place a dust. I’m still in my pyjamas, but I have every intention of changing into the sexiest thing I have and teasing him all night. He deserves to be tortured after the way he’s tortured me these last few days.
In the living room, I press the button on the music pod thing that’s slotted into a speaker, wondering what music he listens to. Nine Inch Nails ‘Closer’ flashes on the screen and plays, sending tingles straight to my core when I listen to the lyrics. I don’t actually know if this is Dom’s music or Dan’s, but considering Dom spends more time here, I’m going with him. I imagine him violating my body much like he did last night.
I’m still on my period. It seems a shame to dirty the fresh bedding, but after that kiss, nothing could stop me from having him now. I should have just let him fuck me last night.
With the loud music playing through the speaker, I shake my hips and dance around the living room with the vacuum in one hand and the duster in the other. I love to dance, but trying to keep a low profile, I haven’t been able to get on stage at Club Curve. Running the vacuum down the hall, I wipe around the desk in the Mi5 room and give Dan’s room a quick fettle. Nothing is really dirty, but I’ve nothing else to do and feeling in a good mood this morning, I wanted to make myself useful.
Dom’s room is a little more messy, no thanks to me. He only has a wardrobe, set of drawers, bed, and bedside tables, so my toiletries and the few personal belongings I brought don’t have anywhere to go. I tidy everything up as best I can.
A large camouflage patterned bag takes up space in the bottom of his wardrobe where my shoes could go. Moving the old camouflaged bag out of the way, it feels lighter than I expected, but there are a few things rattling inside.
With my curious mind and wanting to know more about Dom, I open the zipper and peek inside.
My heart rate speeds up as I lift a clear bag from the holdall. A matchbook with the gold casino branding glimmers through the clear plastic. I drop the bag as if it burned my hand. Kicking it away, I crawl backwards until my back hits the wall.
Tears sting my eyes. The pounding in my chest makes it difficult to breathe, and with the lack of oxygen, I struggle to think. I knew he was far from perfect. A little obsessive, controlling and possessive. Okay, more than a little. Still, all things I could have lived with, but deceit and secrets and betrayal is where I draw the line.
My chest caves, but I refuse to let out the sob building in my throat. My mother never cried over a man, and I am my mother’s daughter. She used them as much as they used her. I pinch the bridge of my nose to hold back the stinging tears, then crawl over to the bag to inspect the contents before I fully condemn him.
Underneath the matchbook is a pile of photos. All photos of me from the casino. One of me from a service station when I made my way up north. He’s been tracking me this whole time. He lied. All along, he knew who I was.
I thought we met at Club Curve. I thought we had one of those meet cutes like you see in the movies, where the guy saves the girl, and they fall in love. Fair enough, it was less cute and more aggressive how he threatened to rip the guy’s hand off for touching me, but I thought it was hot.
My hands grip my throat as I gasp for air. The matchbook near my car. My car not starting was him all along. A ploy for him to get me here. Wanting me to think I’m in danger all this time so he could get me back here for his sick, twisted pleasure.
I can play games too. He messed with the wrong girl. If he thinks I’m a cute little pet that’s going to succumb to her master, he’s sorely mistaken. This fox is fierce, with sharp claws and a venomous bite. Eyeing the rope on the drawers, I have a plan.
* * *
By the timeI hear the door keys, I’m dressed in my black work skirt and a vest top that leaves nothing to the imagination. I packed all my stuff in his camouflaged duffel bag, and I’ve left the photos and matchbook loose in his wardrobe.
“Poppy?” My name rolls off his tongue like candy, as if he’s been fondling it all day since we shared a kiss this morning. My core pulses at the sound of his deep timbre. She needs to behave. Now is not the time to get aroused.
I close the bedroom door, walking down the hall. The candle I lit earlier fills the room with a vanilla scent. I paint a fake smile on my face, playing my part in his game. “Where’s Dan?”
He spins around in the kitchen, his predatory gaze catching me off guard and making my knees weak. “I told him to make himself scarce for a while. I have some business to take care of.” He stomps towards me looking both caveman and gentleman in his suit, but no matter how hot he looks, hell will freeze over before I allow myself to have him.
He drops his jacket to the floor, then off comes the tie, tossing it over his shoulder as he takes my face in his palms and hungrily takes my lips. I allow this one thing, telling myself it’s all part of my master plan, even the moans he swallows are for effect, or so I tell myself.
“Are you ready for me, Red?” He nips at my bottom lip. My chest heaves as his mouth works its way south, nuzzling between the valley of my breasts.
“I thought we could take this slow. I have a surprise for you.”
