“I’m not a good man, Poppy.” Jax inched closer. “Ivan was right to warn you away from me.”
“I don’t believe that.” Not after the way he’d taken care of her yesterday.
“Then you’re a fool.” He moved closer still. “A beautiful, intelligent fool.”
Poppy’s pulse raced with her heart’s forceful rhythm. The man had all but told her to stay far, far away from him. His reasons seemingly clear and concise.
But even as he spoke the words, Jax continued to invade her space. His movements careful yet resolute. Like an untamed animal stalking its prey.
It’s me. I’m his prey.
Or at least, she wanted to be.
As if he could read her mind, Jax’s deep voice reached through her. “Told you before, I don’t fuck my clients.”
Poppy’s insides tingled, her most intimate muscles clenching from the thought alone.
“I remember.” But then she found herself asking, “Not ever?”
“Not even once.”
An idea began to form. Probably a stupid one. No, it was most definitely stupid. The dumbest one she’d ever had, in fact.
But the pull she felt toward this man was too strong for her to fight, and after nearly dying a few hours before, Poppy needed to remind herself that she was still alive.
And she knew just the way to do it.
She took a step forward. And another. Shecontinuedclosing the gap that separated them, and when she was inches away from the most intriguing man she’d ever met, Poppy stopped walking and stared up into his eyes.
“You don’t fuck them.” She placed a hand on his massive chest. “But do you kiss them?”
Jax’s muscles tightened beneath her touch. “You’re playing with fire, Penelope,” he rumbled, his chest rising and falling with each new breath.
“Fire doesn’t scare me.” Poppy rose to her tiptoes. Ignoring the slight twinge from the small cuts on her soles, she watched him closely for any signs that she’d misread the heat in his eyes.
“It should.” He placed one of his hands on her hip and pulled her to him. “You should be fucking terrified.”
“Of you?” She shook her head. “I’m not.”
“Why is that?”
“Because you make me feel safe.”
“No such thing, darlin’.”
“I know.” Poppy smiled up at him, her hand sliding slowly up his chest and wrapping around the base of his neck. The tips of his closely shorn hair back there met her fingertips, the sensation oddly tantalizing. “Maybe that’s why I’m okay with getting burned.”
“I don’t want to hurt you. And make no mistake, I will.”
He said the words as if they were already written in stone.
“I don’t care.” Tomorrow she might. But not right now.
That same muscle twitched along his jaw. “You should.”
I really, really don’t.
“You never answered my question.” She pressed her body against his, the impressive bulge pushing against her midsection sending her imagination into all sorts of exciting, naughty directions. “You said you don’t fuck your clients, but what’s your rule about kissing them?”