The Edge of Forever (6 page)

Poppy shook her head and wiped a stray tear away. “No, you didn’t do anything wrong, Blake.” She wrapped her arms around her belly and looked down. “I want it as much as you did. I just…” She exhaled loudly. “I just can’t do this.” Without another look in his direction she turned and disappeared into her room.

Blake stared at the spot Poppy just left. He ran his hand through his hair and gripped the short strands. “Dammit.” What in the hell had he done? He quite possibly just fucked up the one thing that meant more to him than anything else in the world.

Chapter Eight

Poppy had run away, because frankly that was what she did best. So now, hours later, she lay in her bed and watched the moonlight filter across the ceiling. Her tears had since dried, but the pain still lingered. It felt like she betrayed the memory of Jon, but logically she knew that wasn’t true. She hated feeling it, was sick of its cold, angry touch clawing at her until she couldn’t breathe and drowned in her own hatred and disgust. Blake was right. Jon wouldn’t want her to live like this, to go day by day without a meaningful passing thought, without feeling love or giving it in return.

 
Blake hadn’t come after her, and she didn’t know if she should feel relief or disappointment. She felt shamed for what they had done in the living room, but she also felt immense heat still coursing through her. Blake had made her feel alive, without the regret of the past two years dragging her further down into a dark abyss.

A look at the clock beside the bed showed it was going on one in the morning, yet Poppy lay wide awake. Her body still thrummed with remembered pleasure at the hands of Blake. She knew she wouldn’t stay alone for the rest of her life, at least she hoped that wasn’t the case, but the desire she felt wasn’t for a stranger she just met. No, it was for Jon’s brother.

She rolled onto her belly and buried her face in the pillow. She supposed it was inevitable for her to feel like this for Blake. He had been the one to talk her through her hardest times, and she now lived with him. Flopping onto her back again she exhaled loudly. She wouldn’t be able to sleep, not when her breasts felt impossibly full and a low throb settled between her thighs. Poppy got up and slid her feet into a pair of slippers. Maybe something to drink would settle her raging body and mind?

The house was quiet when she slipped out of her room and headed toward the kitchen. The subtle noises of the house seemed amplified. The wood creaked beneath her feet, the clock ticked down the seconds on the wall, and all of it was like a chorus of music that surrounded her. Maybe she was just overly aware of everything? Maybe she was just too strung tight? After grabbing and drinking a glass of water, she leaned against the counter and stared out the window. It looked incredibly cold outside, especially the way the frost glistened like crystals under the moonlight. She filled her glass full again and headed back to her room, but she found herself stopping in front of Blake’s door. It stood partially open, and like some kind of creep she peeked inside, expecting to find him asleep the massive bed. The feel of her heart thundering in her chest was a result of seeing the empty bed, and before she could race back to her room and hide, the bathroom door opened and Blake stepped out.

Despite the chill in the air he only wore a pair of plaid fleece pants. The moonlight speared through the open doorway and bathed his bare chest. Hard planes of muscle covered every inch of his broad chest, and because she couldn’t help herself, Poppy let her eyes travel lower. A line of dark hair started below his belly button and made a trail down his rippling abdomen to disappear beneath his pants. The low throb that had been present between her thighs now became a fierce pounding that demanded to be noticed. Blake hadn’t moved. In fact he seemed just as frozen to the spot as she did.

“I—” he said and took a step closer. “I’m sorry about earlier.” His voice was low and filled with emotion. He stopped, and she saw his hands clenched at his sides.

The fear was strong at the fact she wanted Blake so strongly. It caused a desperate need inside of her. Could she actually surrender to her wants and give herself to a man who so clearly wanted her as well? The thick bulge behind the thin material of his bottoms was a testament to the fact her presence affected him as well. Poppy didn’t say anything, couldn’t have even if she had been able to form words. “No, Blake.” A look of pain crossed his face, and she hated that she was the one to put it on him. She should turn around and flee to her room, go to sleep and forget all about what she wanted right now, but instead she took a step closer, and another until they stood toe-to-toe. The force of his breathing brushed across her face, ruffling the tendrils of her hair in a minty caress. His chest rose and fell quick and hard, and the pulse at the base of his throat beat wildly. Was her need just as evident as his?

Her hands shook, but she lifted them anyway and placed them tentatively on his belly. The hard muscles clenched under her palm, and she slid her hands up the rolling, defined hills of his abdomen and rested them on each of his
pecs
. The beat of his heart was strong and heady, so unlike her rapidly pounding one.

“Poppy?” Her name came out as a whispered question. Poppy didn’t stop or answer. If she derailed from what she wanted to do she wouldn’t be able to regain her strength.

She leaned into him, felt the heat from his body seep into hers, and closed her eyes. It felt good to feel warmth. For a long time all she felt was a coldness that stole her breath and left her numb. Blake made her feel cozy, and heated, and alive. When she opened her eyes and looked into his face, the fierce look of desire reflected back at her increased her pulse. Very gently she curled her fingers into the hard, yet pliant flesh at his chest.

“You make me feel good, Blake. I don’t want to lose that. I don’t want to give up everything that has grown between us.” She moved an inch closer until her chest pressed against his. “Will you help me heal?” She asked him for so much, she knew that, but a part of her knew only Blake could be the one to help her. She rested her forehead on his chest and closed her eyes, just inhaling the strong, masculine scent that was all Blake. The aroma reminded her of peace and energy and … home. His big, strong arms wrapped around her and tightened. Poppy tilted her head back. Thank God Blake saw how much she needed this and brought his mouth to hers. The kiss started slow and passionate, filled with so much yearning from both of them that Poppy thought she would die from sensory overload. With her hands still on his chest, she couldn’t hold him like she wanted to, but Blake had other ideas.

The feel of his hands coasting down her back and cupping the mounds of her ass sent a thrill of wet arousal through her. Panties slick with her lust, Poppy deepened the kiss and moved her tongue faster and harder against his. His answering groan came from deep within his chest and sent vibrations throughout her body. Her mind and body screamed for more, yet she didn’t feel like she could get close enough to him. The tightening of his hands on her ass was the only indication of what he was about to do. With a strength that rivaled the wilderness surrounding them, Blake lifted her so she was forced to wrap her legs around his waist to keep stable. The hard length of his erection prodded between her legs, and she wished they didn’t have the material of their nightgowns obstructing what she really wanted.

With their mouths still fused, and her wrapped around Blake like a pretzel, he started to move. A door shut behind him, and she felt the cool, soft sheets of a bed greet her back. Blake broke the kiss and leaned back.
A smokiness
covered his expression, a hidden temptation that called to her.

“Poppy, love.”
The endearment sent a spike of liquid heat through her. She reached for him, but he stopped her with a gentle hand to the center of her chest. She rested against the mattress again and watched him. Blake lifted his hands and smoothed them down her arms. Poppy cursed the long-sleeved tee she wore because she wanted to feel his bare flesh touching hers. When his hands skimmed the hem of her shirt he flicked his eyes to hers, as if silently asking for permission. She licked her lips and nodded.

The sound of him swallowing filled the too quiet room. For a suspended moment he did nothing but stare at where his hands rested on the lower belly. A tightening started within her that she recognized as excitement.

“Please,” she whispered into the darkness. Too slowly for her liking, Blake pushed her top up, exposing her belly and ugly scar. Up until that one moment she hadn’t even remembered the nasty raised flesh that marred her.
How could you forget?
Humiliation slammed into her at the knowledge that Blake saw the physical product of the accident. She tried to cover herself, but Blake was fast and held her hands down. Tears formed in her eyes, but she refused to let them spill.

“Look at me, Poppy.” His voice was soft, but there was a distinct note of command laced in the words. She hadn’t realized she had closed her eyes until she opened them and stared into Blake’s face. The shadows cast harsh lines across his face. For several long seconds he didn’t speak, just stared at her and continued to keep a firm, yet gentle hold on her wrists. Slowly he removed his hands from her, but she didn’t try to cover herself again, not when he watched her so intently. With her heart in her throat, Poppy stared with wide eyes when Blake gripped her shirt again and lifted it. He stopped right below her breasts, but her embarrassment was the area of her body his attention was now on. Face feeling like it was on fire, Poppy was frozen in place.

His warm breath teased the skin of her belly, and she took in a stuttering breath. The first touch of his lips on her scar had her mouth parting and her pulse racing. Over and over he kissed and ran his tongue along the proof of everything she tried to forget. The tears she tried so hard to keep at bay spilled forth until great, wracking sobs left her. Poppy covered her face with her hands and cried as Blake continued to lave attention to the part of her body she had always felt discomfiture over.

“You’re beautiful, love.” Blake whispered. “You’re the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.” His hands took over where his lips had just been. He caressed her in a gentle sweep of his fingers, so soft and smooth that goose-bumps formed along her skin. “Every part of you is beautiful.” His hands moved up, and up, until they stopped right below her bra. “Look at me.” Poppy let her hands fall away and looked at Blake, who was now mere inches from her face. “I want you to tell me you’re beautiful.” He leaned in the rest of the space and kissed her long and slow. When he broke the kiss he stayed only inches away again. “Tell me, love.”

Poppy licked her lips, the words getting lodged in her throat. His eyes urged her to continue, to find the strength deep inside of her. When was the last time she felt beautiful?
When Jon told me right before he died.
Now was not the time for this, not when Blake opened up her heart again. Not when she
felt
something. Finding the courage deep inside her soul, Poppy grabbed for it and didn’t let go.

“I’m beautiful.” The words were barely a whisper from her, but Blake heard her nonetheless and brushed his lips across hers in response.

“Yes, yes you are, love.” He took her mouth again, and she became lost in the sensations of lips, tongues, and hands. It felt like they kissed for
hours,
or maybe it was just minutes, but it felt glorious regardless. Mouth swollen from the blood that rushed below the surface, cheeks scrapped from the erotic scrape of his stubble along her skin, and pussy so wet the lining of her panties was unbearably soaked, Poppy drifted away in the hazy fog of aroused delight.

With quick movements and expert hands, Blake had her shirt off and her bra undone and tossed aside. She had only ever been naked in front of one person, had only ever given herself to one man, but the way Blake looked down at her, with not just desire but love and understanding, had the wall she had built around her heart after Jon died fading away. She lifted her arms and ran the pads of her fingers across his bare chest. His body lightly shook beneath her hands, and she knew he was just as affected by this encounter.

“I want you, Blake.” Poppy dropped her hands and gripped the edge of her pajama bottoms. She lifted her hips and dragged them down her legs and off when Blake moved aside. He looked almost stunned, or unsure of her actions, but he didn’t stop her. So she reached for the drawstring of his lounge pants. “Tell me this is right, that you want this, too.” Hands on the strings but not making a move to loosen it, Poppy stared into his eyes.
Everything around her stilled as she waited to hear his answer.
It was strange how the roles had been reversed. It now seemed Blake was unsure of what was transpiring. He closed his eyes, and his jaw clenched as he dealt with his internal battle. Poppy went to drop her hands, but Blake anticipated her move and placed his hands atop hers, stilling her movements.

“I want this, so much, Poppy.” He removed her hands and stood. For a moment she thought he meant to leave her in his too big room, alone and naked, but then he pushed his pants down and crawled back on the bed over her. His big body rested atop hers, pressing her into the mattress and sending a lovely, heavy sensation coursing through her. “I want you so much, Poppy.” Warm, hard male flesh molded into hers, making the sweet anticipation of release just a reach away.

Blake’s narrow hips fit perfectly in the cradle her hers, and the hard, impossibly thick length of him parted her labia. She was wet, unbelievably so, and his shaft moved against the slickness on its own accord. A guttural groan left him, and he dropped his head to her shoulder at the same time his hips jerked and his cock slid against her again.

“You feel so good,
Poppy
.” He curled his fingers around her upper arms and pressed his hips into hers again. Over and over he did this, his length sliding up and down as he rocked against her. The base of his erection bumped her clit on every upstroke, and Poppy had to bit her lip or she would have screamed for him to move harder, faster.
 
“I’ve wanted you for so long, ever since our relationship changed during those conversations all those years ago.” Another bump to her clit and she squeezed her eyes shut. So, so close to feeling that explosion she longed for.