Stranded (Night Calls) by J.C. Valentine
She crossed her fingers that he could, because she was so not up for that task. With the current state of her emotions, she might end up molesting the man. Not that he would mind necessarily. Men seemed to take it wherever they could get it, but Poppy was not a one night stand kind of girl. She needed a connection to be intimate with someone. Not that her body seemed to be able to tell the difference. Her panties were soaked through, and it had nothing to do with the water and everything to do with the sight he presented—a strong virile man with enough confidence to fill a room.
How long had it been since she’d had sex?
Too long, but she wasn’t about to start by sleeping with the first stranger to stumble in off the street. Poppy had standards. It was just unlucky for her that this man appeared to fit her standards to a T.
“I can handle it,” the man said as he turned his head away and slid deeper into the water.
Nodding almost imperceptibly, Poppy stepped closer to the door, disappointment swamping her. She wasn’t sure why, but his rejection stung. “Okay. I’ll be down the hall if you need anything.” She hadn’t taken more than a step outside the bathroom when his throaty voice called out to her.
“Do you still want to know my name?”
Poppy’s heart rate spiked as she slowly pivoted to face him. “Alright.”
“It’s Felix. Felix Sinclair.”
Felix. Poppy rolled it around in her head a while. It was a nice name, something you didn’t hear very often, and it suited him. She smiled. “Nice to meet you, Felix Sinclair. I’m Poppy.”
He answered with a subtle smile of his own, then closed his eyes again and tilted his head back to rest. Pulling the door closed behind her, Poppy snapped her fingers for Bo to follow, then crossed the hall to her room, feeling somewhat unnerved at the way she was reacting to this strange man who had stumbled into her home and stolen the very breath from her lungs.
Maybe he wasn’t a murderer, but he there was no doubt in her mind that Felix Sinclair was dangerous for her health.
Bo curled up on his pallet in the corner while she changed into a pair of fresh pajamas. As Poppy tugged the nightshirt over her head she thought, oh yes, she was in trouble. When she climbed into bed and closed her eyes, flashes of naked flesh and dark, sinful eyes played behind her closed lids, lighting her body on fire.
4
Felix.
Even the name made her insides quiver.
Poppy was lying on the bed, waiting for Felix to get done with his bath. She left the door open a crack so she would hear him when he came out. When he was finished, she planned on personally handing him the phone so he could make whatever calls he needed to make and get out of there. She just wasn’t ready for the kind of distraction he caused her. It was bad enough she found him attractive, but having a naked attractive man in her home was just asking for trouble.
The minutes ticked by painfully slow, and Poppy was hyper aware of every muted splash of water coming from behind the closed door just a few feet away. She pictured Felix, his muscled arms glistening with water, his intense gaze roving over every inch of her body. His hands were strong with long, thick fingers, and she imagined him running them over her body, tunneling beneath the oversized flannel shirt to caress the sensitive skin on her thighs, her stomach and higher.
Shifting restlessly beneath the blankets, Poppy sighed longingly. She wasn’t new to entertaining fantasies in her head. In fact, she did it almost every night when she curled up with her romance novels, but this was different. It felt almost wrong to be having fantasy sex with a man she didn’t know, who was in the next room. But she couldn’t stop the images from assaulting her. Felix running his smooth, firm lips across her breasts, sucking first one taught peak into his mouth, then the other. Felix smoothing his hands up her calf to the apex of her thighs, teasing her sensitive folds until he finally plunged a finger deep inside causing her to cry out from the pleasure. She let her own fingers wander south, until they slipped past the silky panties and found her swollen nub. The first touch made her gasp and as her fingers found a rhythm guaranteed to bring her to completion, she bit down on her bottom lip and let the sensations wash over her.
Poppy was fully into her fantasy, her mind weaving a vivid picture of Felix between her thighs, thrusting long and hard, when she heard the sound of a throat clearing.
Yanking her hand from beneath the blankets, Poppy jolted upright, causing her head to spin and stars to dance across her vision. She looked to the doorway to find Felix standing there, a towel wrapped around his narrow hips, tiny water droplets kissing his shoulders and chest. His wet hair was slicked back off his forehead, his eyes were narrowed dangerously on her, and she noted that his color and strength seemed to have returned.
“Um,” Poppy said nervously. How much had he seen? She could still feel a flush heating her skin and it was only growing hotter at the thought that he might have caught her in the middle of a very private moment. “Do you need something?”
Shaking his head, he eyed her suspiciously and one of his brows arched up. “I heard you call my name.”
She felt her cheeks flame red. Had she really called his name out loud? Lord, shoot her now. She wasn’t sure she could handle the embarrassment.
It was obvious to Poppy, as she watched Felix lean back against the door jamb, crossing his arms over his broad chest in a way that made the muscles appear larger, that he wanted her to fill in the blanks, and he wasn’t leaving until she did.
Like hell she would. No way would she tell him that he had played the starring role in her sexual fantasy. She had to come up with something plausible for why she would call his name, but what?
When an idea sparked, she jumped on it, and beamed up at him. “I was just going to ask you if you wanted me to throw your clothes in the dryer. Otherwise, I’m afraid you’ll be stuck wearing a towel. Unless you’re not opposed to wearing a pink robe?”
She chewed her lip nervously while Felix fixed her with his intense gaze. She knew he was picking through her explanation, trying to find the holes, but in the end, he just shook his head again.
“No, they’re dry clean only.”
Poppy frowned. She didn’t own a single article of clothing that required dry cleaning. He must be well-off, she thought, which made her slightly more uncomfortable. She liked playing on even ground and now she just felt…well, poor. Her eyes darted around the room to the chipped paint on the baseboards, the used furniture and the creaking floorboards stained in places from water or animals, she didn’t know which. She wondered what kind of place he lived in, and what he must think of hers. Why should she even care? It wasn’t like she needed to impress the man. He was the one who needed her help. If he didn’t like her home, then he should have picked another house to squat in until help arrived.
But she did care, and that bothered her.
“Well, I can hang them up then. Maybe in front of the heater so they’ll at least dry faster?” she asked, feeling smaller now in his presence.
The look on his face said that he didn’t much like that idea either, but he had little choice if he didn’t want to spend the rest of the night in a towel.
“I guess that would be fine,” he said sternly, but made no moves to leave.
Silence reigned, and Poppy didn’t think she would last another minute under his scrutiny, so she popped out of bed and strode to the door. “I’ll get to it then,” she said, intending to squeeze past his large frame, but Felix wasn’t about to let her off the hook that easily.
Snagging her by the arm, he wheeled her back around to face him. The abrupt shift in direction and the limited space caused Poppy to crash into his chest. Her head snapped up and her mouth flew open, preparing to rip his head off for his manhandling ways, when she caught the smoldering look in his eyes.
“Now why don’t you tell me why you really called my name.” His voice held a note of challenge and his eyes bore into hers, daring her to lie.
Well, she could lie. She would
A sly grin split his lips. “Really?” he drawled, his grip on her upper arm growing firmer. He tugged her closer, putting her chest flush against his own, and snaked his free arm around her waist to hold her in place. Dipping his head until his lips grazed her ear, he whispered, “Is that why you were touching yourself?”
Poppy balked at his words. Pushing against his chest, she tried to free herself, but he was stronger than she was and his grip held firm. Finally, she gave up the struggle and sliced him with a searing look. “You’re a pig,” she gritted through her teeth.
He went on as if she hadn’t even spoken. “Tell me, Poppy,” her name on his lips was a sensual promise, “do you always get wet when you think about laundry?”
She slapped him. Hard. It wasn’t even a thought, but the embarrassment was so thick, it clouded her judgment and she lashed out.
She pulled her hand back immediately; shocked that she had hit him. “I’m sorry,” she said quickly, fear coursing through her veins. If this guy really was a psycho, hitting him might just be the spark he needed to finally kill her.
Anger flashed in those dark depths as Felix studied her, his jaw ticking wildly. She thought he was going to yell at her, but instead he bent down, until they were nose to nose and looked her straight in the eyes.
“Do I frighten you, Poppy?”
He did. He so did. But not in the creepy, chop you into bits way. He scared her because he was so completely male, and every cell in her body was on fire for him. She couldn’t recall a time in her life that she felt anything so intensely, not even for her own husband, and it was terrifying to consider the implications of that.
She nodded slowly, swallowing tightly.
“If I wanted to hurt you, I would have done it already,” Felix said as he drew his nose across her cheek to her hair and breathed in deeply.
Did that mean he wasn’t going to hurt her then?
Poppy felt the hold he had on her arm loosen and his hand slip down to mold her hip. The fingers on his other hand, the one wrapped around her waist, moved slowly up and down the small of her back. Shivers dances down her spine in response, and Poppy welcomed the sensation.
She could hear his breathing grow deeper, his thick chest rising and falling faster as his one of his hands made a slow trek down her side, until his fingers found the bare flesh of her thigh. His arousal was evident, the thick length of him pressing against her belly through the fabric of the towel, and only served to spark her own intense desire for more. More of this, more of him. Just more.
“Felix,” she breathed huskily, and her knees nearly buckled when his teeth nipped her shoulder. His tongue swept out to sooth the bite. He continued that pattern, nipping and licking his way across her shoulder and down her arm, pausing at her wrist to kiss the thundering pulse there, and when he got to her hand, his eyes lifted to hers, and her thoughts skidded to a halt as she watched him suck her middle finger into his mouth. His tongue swirled over the pad of her finger, and what she saw lurking in his eyes sent moister flooding between her thighs.
It was a promise of what he was going to do to her.
And, Lord help her, she was going to let him.
Felix couldn’t believe his luck.
He had been laying in the tepid bathwater—the shaking was finally gone, and his lids were growing heavy—when he heard his name called. At first he thought it was nothing, but then it came again, this time more distinct, almost a plea.
Immediately, Felix pulled the plug and snapped a towel from the basket to wrap himself in, then he rushed to find her, certain something was wrong and she needed his aid. Felix couldn’t believe his eyes when he walked into the bedroom. The sight of Poppy, laid out on the bed, her head pushing back into the pillow, her hand tunneled beneath the blankets, nearly undid him. The picture she presented was so unbelievably sexy; he nearly came all over himself.
The air was thick with the musky scent of her arousal, and if he hadn’t been hot for her before, he certainly was now. His erection strained almost painfully behind the thin towel, and Felix had to force himself to calm down before he crossed the room and took what she so obviously wanted him to give.
When he cleared his throat to announce his arrival and she popped up, guilt plastered all over her sweet face, he wanted to curse out loud. Never in his life had he seen someone so incredibly beautiful. And he had been with some beautiful women. Her dark hair fell around her shoulders in thick waves, her breathing was heavy, and her milky white skin was flushed pink from her ministrations.
He had no problem envisioning what she would look like after he had his way with her.
When she stepped gracefully down from the bed, the flannel nightgown that would normally act as an ice bath to any man’s libido cinched up, revealing yards of creamy pale flesh, and only served to ratchet up his need to get her naked and bury himself between her silky thighs.
Instead of hammering in his chest, his heartbeat slowed to a crawl and his blood turned to sludge in his veins. Time stood still as she walked toward him, the sway of her hips a hypnotic spell that sent his mind spiraling into forbidden places. The things he wanted to do to her were probably illegal, but as she brushed past him, he decided he didn’t care what laws he had to break. He had to have this woman. Even if she wasn’t ready to admit it yet, to herself or to him, she wanted him, and he intended to give her everything she wanted. As he drew her to him, he had only one thought on his mind: By the time he was through with her, she would know what it meant to be totally and thoroughly fucked.
5
Poppy was a mass of sensation. Every inch of her skin tingled with anticipation of his touch, greedily soaking up every finger stroke, every brush of his tongue. His hand gripped her ass, keeping her firmly pressed against him as he ground his hips into her, while his other hand roamed up her side, found her breast and pinched her nipple through the gown.
She gasped from the spark of pain that shot a surprising jolt of pleasure straight to her sex, making her quiver in his arms.
Chest heaving, Felix suddenly pulled back, and Poppy felt the loss bone deep. She stepped forward, her mind already mapping out all the parts of his body she was going to run her tongue over. She’d start with his neck and work her way down, tracing the ridges and deep valleys his muscles created, and then she’d rip away that towel and get down to business.
She was stopped cold when Felix palmed her shoulders, holding her away from him.
“If you don’t want this, say so now, because I don’t think I can stop myself once we get started.”
His voice was rough and deep and slipped across Poppy’s sensitized flesh like fine silk. Raw heat flooded her insides and she shivered, though she was far from being cold.
“Then don’t stop.” She pushed closer, but he only held her tighter.
“Be sure. You don’t seem like the kind of woman who would sleep with a man after just meeting him.”
And just like that, the haze that had been clouding her mind lifted. Poppy stared into those dark, intense eyes that promised untold pleasure, and cooled. “I’m not.” It was something she had already told herself earlier, but in the face of his raw, sexual prowess, she crumbled, and all the morals and principles she had always applied to herself simply vanished.
Oh yes, her instincts had been right. Felix was a dangerous man.
She watched as every muscle in his body stiffened. He didn’t like her answer, but it was clear in the set of his jaw and the grim look in his eyes, that he was prepared to back off. With a subtle nod, he dropped his hands and took a step back. She admired his strength, because, honestly, all he would have had to do was touch her, anywhere, and she would have fallen into his arms, his to do with as he pleased.
The knowledge was both terrifying and electrifying.
Poppy had never been one to do anything without
For instance, she was harder, more resilient, and, apparently, hyper sexual. At least when it came to gorgeous men with carved muscles that looked at her like she was a piece of meat. She had never been a piece of meat before. And she wanted to be a piece of meat now, badly. Just once in her life, Poppy wanted to experience the other side of life. The exciting side that didn’t require rules and that didn’t fit into a neat little package. She didn’t want to look at tomorrow or ten years down the line. She wanted to live in the moment.
She wanted to know what it was like to have mind blowing sex with a complete stranger.
Closing the distance he had put between them, Poppy molded herself to Felix, feeling all that hard muscle flex beneath her, and placed a soft kiss to the center of his chest. When she looked up at him, she saw that he was watching her warily, like what she was silently offering was too much to hope for.
Wanting to ease him, Poppy rose boldly up onto her toes and dragged her tongue up the column of his neck, swirling small circles over the thick vein pulsing wildly just below his ear. He hissed air through his teeth and his hands found her hips once more, squeezing his encouragement for her to continue.
She placed a line of kisses along his jaw and when she came to his chin, she drew the tip of her tongue over the coarse hairs, feeling the dip of the subtle but sexy cleft there, until she came to his lips. Without hesitation, she plunged her tongue inside and moaned as his tongue tangled with hers.
It was a flurry of excitement from there. Teeth clashing, fingers plunging into hair, hands gripping flesh almost painfully. Poppy felt her feet leave the floor as Felix palmed her ass and dragged her body up against his.