Wings Over Poppies (Over #2) (28 page)

Am I cured? Fuck no. Not even close, but I can see a future where I’m not ruled by my PTSD, and that’s a great start.

I had to read through every one of those letters I wrote to you so I could try and understand. I had to figure out how I could justify staying away from you all these years. After sifting through it all, I’ve come to a conclusion. I’m through listening to twisted logic.

I’m going to fight for you, Poppy.

Please know that I’m on my way back to you, running as fast as I can.

I hope you’re still there…

I love you,

West

I drop the single page in my lap, and sit stock still for I don’t know how long. My mind is reeling, and I struggle to push through. The new knowledge of West’s life and the last few years of my own are running parallel in my mind. It’s everything I always needed to hear sitting right in front of me on one sheet of paper.

He’s going to fight for me.

I peer into the package and reach for the small white box with trembling hands. The top easily slides off, revealing a vintage, rose gold locket pillowed on a square bed of cotton. It is encrusted with seed pearls and engraved with filigree. I remove it from the box and place it in my palm, the heavy chain swinging below. I unclasp the locket and slowly open the hinges. I gasp as my eyes fall upon the painting carefully placed inside.

As I take in those thick lashes, those dark brown irises flecked black, I feel liberated. As I appreciate the penetrating gaze of the most beautiful eye I’ve ever known, I come to a conclusion of my own.

I leap up from the chair and grab my keys and purse. I’m out the door and in my car within seconds. After reading his last letter, after seeing the lover’s eye locket, there’s no other choice to be made.

I’m going to fight for him, too

“
Smash Into You
” by Beyonce

I FLING OPEN the door to my car, after breaking more traffic laws than I can count to get here. I race up his front steps, only noticing I forgot my shoes when a rock pierces the bottom of my foot. Even the piercing pain can’t stop me from my mission.

I take a deep breath in, shake the nerves from my fingers, and knock three times as the tears sting my eyes. I wait, rather impatiently, for him to answer the door, but I don’t hear any movement from inside. I know I saw his truck in the garage when I drove up, but I peek around the corner and check again. His truck is there, and I don’t hear the clanging of barbells coming from the garage.

So I knock again. And wait.

Where could he be? I grab the knob and turn slowly, realizing it’s unlocked. After thinking it over for a moment, I figure what the hell? I push the door open and step inside.

“West?” I walk through the small foyer and into the living room. The room is dark, but I see light filtering from the hallway and keep walking toward it. I hear movement, and I push on the slightly cracked door.

And there he is. My West.

He’s sitting on the edge of the bed, freshly showered and partially dressed. He’s pulling a T-shirt over his head when I enter so he doesn’t see me right away. He runs his hands through his damp and disheveled hair, then his dark eyes reach mine and he freezes. His eyes dart to the side and he reaches for a blanket at the end of the bed.

I follow his eye movements and realize he’s looking at his prosthetic leg, which is leaning next to the bench on the side of the bed. When my eyes return to him, he’s covered his lap with the blanket.

I rush toward him and fall to my knees between his legs. “No.” I pull the blanket away from him and toss it behind me. “Please don’t hide from me.”

West closes his eyes and nods his head as I lift up on my knees and grab behind his neck. The air around us thickens with regret and words left unsaid for entirely too long. He grips my waist and pulls me closer, his forehead falling into mine. “I’m sorry, Alex. I’m so fucking sorry.” His words come out on a breath, and I feel the release behind them. “I know it’s just words, but in time, I’ll show you how much I regret hurting you the way I have. Please tell me I’m not too late.”

“When it comes to us? You and me? I don’t know if it would ever be too late. It’s okay. It’s gonna be okay.”

“I still have a lot of issues to work through, but I’m trying like hell. Please be patient with me, Poppy.” He squeezes my waist firmly and keeps his eyes closed.

“No,” I whisper, shaking my head. His eyes fly open and meet mine. Hurt and confusion swirl in those dark orbs. “No more being patient, and no more Poppy.”

“What?” He pushes away to study me more closely.

“I bite my fingernails. Yes, I bite my always-paint-encrusted fingernails. I’m going to get lead poisoning one day. And I can’t get up before nine AM. It’s physically impossible. I leave mugs with dried tea leaves all over the house. It’s disgusting really. Oh, and I love watching reruns of
The
Andy Griffith Show
. It never gets old.” I stop only when West covers my mouth with his hand and smirks at me.

“Why are you telling me this?”

“The point is I’m not perfect.” I hold up my hand to stop him from talking and pull him close to me again. “Did you know that red poppies are symbols of remembrance for fallen soldiers?”

“Yes, I know that,” West says softly as his gaze washes lovingly over my face. Our breath intermingles. Our lashes touch fleetingly as I blink back tears. Our chests heave together as I tug at the hair at the back of his neck.

“It’s just you and me, West. There are no poppies anymore.” I lightly brush my lips over his, savoring the taste of him. “I’m not perfect … and you’re not a fallen soldier. You’re very much alive.”

He closes his eyes tightly, his grip on me becoming almost painful, but I relish in it. He takes in a staggering breath and slowly shakes his head.

“Did you hear me, West?” I push gently, but firmly. “You’re not dead.”

I grasp the sides of his head and place soft kisses to each of his temples. His eyes remain closed as I run the tips of my fingers over his beard, something new and different to love about him. I make my way down to his chest as it twitches beneath my touch, his stomach, and then lower. I study his right leg, seeing the angry scars for the first time. I place my lips on each scar, thick lashes that wrap around the leg.

Then I turn to his left leg, which ends about six inches below his knee. I run my hand over the old incision, and I hear his breath hitch above me. I lower my head and place kisses down the length of the scar. When I finish, I lay my head in his lap, wrap my arms around his waist and close my eyes.

“Whatever issues there are, we’ll work through them together. I’ll never let you push me away again,” I whisper softly as I feel a hot tear hit my cheek, only it isn’t mine.

I look up just as West grips my neck and gently pulls my forehead to his. I look deep into his watery eyes, taking in the intensity swirling behind them. “I’m not going anywhere, Alex. I promise you.”

He curls his fingers into my hair and crashes his lips to mine. His kiss is without pretense, full of need and longing as his tongue possessively enters my mouth. The sensation of his beard rubbing against my skin sends shockwaves through my body. I sink my teeth into his lower lip, and he growls in response.

West grabs underneath my arms and tosses me effortlessly onto the bed. Before I know it, he’s on top of me, pressing me deep into the mattress with his delicious weight. He places his arms on either side of my head, effectively caging me in. He runs his nose down the side of my cheek, down my neck, and into my hair.

“God, I fucking missed you so much. Everything about you. The taste of you, the smell of you.” He gently bites my earlobe and runs his tongue all the way up before whispering to me. “I’m sorry I’m such a stubborn idiot.”

I slide my hands under his shirt and run my fingers up his back, smiling as I feel the shiver pulse through him. “West?”

“Yeah?” His hooded eyes lift to meet mine.

“Please stop talking and make love to me.” I run my hands down to his ass and push him into me. His work out shorts leave little to the imagination, and I feel his hard cock pulsing against my belly.

There are way too many clothes between us.

West’s expression heats at my statement, but then clouds over. “We’ve got a problem. I don’t have any condoms, Alex. Fuck. I don’t want to disrespect you like that again.”

He flips onto his back and pulls me with him. I lift up on my elbow with a sad pout on my face, and then my eyes brighten. “I forgot.” I jump up and retrieve my purse from the floor. “Marlo always shoves condoms from the clinic into my purse, hoping they’ll fall out at inopportune times and embarrass the shit out of me.”

“I knew I liked that girl.” There’s laughter in his eyes as he sees me pull a string of condoms out of my purse, but they quickly darken. “C’mere.”

I take deliberate, slow steps in his direction, watching his eyes devour my body. I’m wearing an off-the-shoulder sweatshirt and yoga pants, but his gaze makes me feel like I’m the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen. When I’m within reach, he takes the condoms out of my hand and tosses them on the bed. “Stay right there.”

He continues to drink me in, his eyes running up and down my body. He’s sitting on the side of the bed, his erection tenting his shorts, and I lick my lips at the sight. I don’t think I can wait much longer. My body is humming with need, and I fight the urge to straddle him right this very second.

“Take off your shirt.” His voice is raspy, and I can feel his restraint waning. “Slowly.”

I reach for the bottom of my shirt and slowly lift it over my head, feeling my hair graze my shoulders as it releases from the sweatshirt. I toss it to the side and my hands reach behind me to unclasp my bra, and I look to West for approval. He nods his head and grips his cock tightly through his shorts, his fist moving ever so slowly up and down. Wetness floods my panties as I flick the clasp, letting the straps fall onto my arms. I hold the cups in place with one hand as I reach out to him with the other. His fingers interlace with mine and he pulls me slightly forward.

“Drop it.”

Without a thought, I obey his command, and my bra hits the floor without a sound. West goes completely still. The only movement is his chest as he breathes in and out. He rests the flat of his palm between my breasts and presses gently as he closes his eyes, seemingly overrun with emotion. His eyes open slowly, and his hand moves toward my already erect nipple. He pinches it between his fingers and pulls down, freeing it on his descent. I tip my head back and moan, overcome by the sensation—pain mixed with the most enjoyable pleasure. As he pinches my other breast, still fisting his cock with his other hand, I know I can’t take much more. Every touch is teasing, tickling, infuriating perfection.

“Please, West,” I beg, my voice shaky, vibrating with need.

“Almost there, Alex. I want you to take off your pants for me.” My hands tuck into the waistband of my pants, but he reaches up and stops me. “Turn around.”

I pivot on my foot and slowly pull my yoga pants down my legs, bending over as far as I can in the process. West’s hand runs over the cheek of my ass and squeezes. He runs his thumb over my panties, barely touching my clit through the material. His fingers run underneath my thong, pulling it to the side just as his kiss to my cheek turns into a bite. With no forewarning, he lowers his face between my legs and runs his tongue along my seam. I’m so turned on, I nearly come the second his tongue touches me.

If he doesn’t take me soon, I’m afraid I may explode.

I stand to my full height, and look over my shoulder to see him reach behind his head and pull off his shirt. He grabs my hips and turns me to him as he pulls my thong down my legs, none too gently. I’m glad to see he’s losing his patience because I lost mine ages ago. He props his left hand on the mattress and lifts up on his right foot to pull off his shorts.

I climb onto his lap and crash my lips to his. I grind into his cock, desperately needing the friction. My wetness coats him as I greedily slide up and down, and a groan builds low in his chest.

I hear the wrapper tearing, and he pulls away from me to slide on the condom.

West holds me with both hands around my ribcage, slowly sweeping his thumbs across the underside of my breasts. “I’ve waited a lifetime to get to you. I feel like it’s worth everything that’s happened, just to be in this moment.” He nips at my bottom lip.

When he’s done, he leans back onto his elbows and sears me with his eyes.

“Lower yourself onto me, Alex. I want to watch you.”

“Yes.” I wrap my fingers around his length and line him up with my entrance. I impale myself on him in one smooth motion, throw my head back, and groan in pleasure.

Yes.

My body starts rocking of its own volition, needing to deepen the connection, craving the friction. As my pace quickens, West grabs my hips.

“Slow down, love. Let’s take our time.”

I whimper softly. “I can’t … I need to move. Please.”

“Shh, I’ve got you,” he says as he lowers his eyes to where our bodies are joined. He guides my hips, and I take him into my body in slow, languid movements. He lightly brushes his thumb over my clit, and the tortuous throb radiating through me explodes into pulsing ecstasy.