“What are you doing right now?” I ask, just to see what she says.
“Lying on my bed, talking to you.”
“Did you like my gift?”
“I did… it’s beautiful. Thank you.” She lovingly fiddles with the hem of the nightie. “I’m wearing it right now, actually.”
“I know,” I reveal softly.
Her fingers stop playing with the material and her body gives a small jerk. Her eyes begin darting around the room. “What? How?”
“Hush,” I soothe, and watch her body relax slightly, although she still seems a little tense. “I’ll explain later. Tell me how it feels against your skin.”
It takes her several seconds, but she lays her head back against the headboard and lets out a small sigh before answering.
“It feels good. It’s soft and smooth, and it feels cool. I love how it fits perfectly against my curves. It makes me feel incredibly sexy. Cosabella is one of my favorite lingerie makers. How did you know?”
“I’ve already told you, there’s a lot I know about you. You deserve everything you’ve ever wanted, Poppy, and I needed to know what those things were. I plan to be the man that gives you everything your beautiful heart desires.”
“What if I want to play with a skunk? Will you let me play with one?”
I chuckle at the ridiculous question. This woman can be so damn funny sometimes. I’ve never seen her silly side up close, but I’ve witnessed it a few times when she talks with Olivia from work. During those times, a wave of jealously washes through me. I want to be the one she feels comfortable enough to joke around with.
“I’ll buy you a damn skunk, along with a hazmat suit so you can play with it any time you want.”
She giggles. “But what if I want to play with a skunk in your house?”
“Then I’ll buy us both a hazmat suit and prepare myself to buy all new clothes, linens, and furnishings.”
“Wow, you must be loaded to be able to do that.”
“I am, but even if I wasn’t, I’d find a way,” I say truthfully.
“Are you real?” she asks in awe, making me smile.
“Yes.”
“Well, what happens if I want a fat, paunchy, unemployed man that drinks beer all day in his favorite thirty-year-old tatty recliner watching football while he drops pizza crumbs on his hairy beer chest?”
“Jesus, where do you get this shit?” I mutter into the phone while shaking my head.
Poppy laughs, and the sound has my body tightening. I grip my phone tighter in my hand and clench my other hand into a fist. I want to yank the window open and jump the woman lying in the bed only feet from me.
There’s mirth in my voice when I say, “I guess I’ll give away my company, go to an old furniture store, invest in a rotted out recliner, stop my workout regimen, and become best friends with beer and pizza.”
“Ahh… a man after my own heart.”
I’ve had enough of the joking. As much as I enjoy the sound of her laugh, I need to hear the sound of her moans more.
“I have a confession,” I whisper to her.
Through the window, I watch as Poppy adjusts on the bed and scissors her legs, like she’s trying to relieve an ache between them.
“What?” It sounds like a moan and my body goes completely rigid.
“I can see you.” The whisper comes out huskily.
I’m prepared when Poppy quickly sits up in bed. Her gaze snaps around the room for a split second before it lands on the window. I’ve already stepped back into the shadows so she can’t see me.