Trust (2 page)

2

Poppy dropped by Felix’s office around lunchtime. Pausing in front of the closed door, a naughty smile began to sprout up. She plucked the first two buttons on her blouse open, revealing a hint of cleavage. Then she fluffed her hair, running her fingers through it to release a few tangles before entering.

“Hey, sexy,” she crooned. Felix sat behind his desk. His head lifted at the sound of her voice and his gaze skated over her, lingering on her chest. Grinning, Poppy sauntered toward him.

“Hey, yourself,” Felix rasped, pushing his chair back to allow her to slip in between him and the desk.

Gathering the tight hem of her pencil skirt, she tugged the fabric higher up her thighs so she could prop herself on the edge of the desk. She planted one of her heels in the triangle of space between his legs. “It’s lunchtime. What are you in the mood to eat?” she asked with a suggestive lift of her eyebrow.

Taking the bait, Felix wrapped both large hands around her ankle and smoothed them up her calves. He leaned in and kissed the inside of one thigh. “You know what I’m hungry for,” he said in a husky voice as he looked up at her through thick, dark lashes.

Poppy felt her inside
s turn molten at the heated look he was giving her. Gripping the edge of the desk, she titled her body back and opened her legs wider. “Then come get it.”

Rolling his chair closer, Felix pressed hot, wet
kisses against the sheer thigh-high stockings she wore. When he reached the laced edge of one, his tongue drew wet patterns across her flesh. Poppy shivered. Her core tightened, burning with need, and she let out a soft moan.

Standing, Felix planted himself between her legs and worked his way up her body, kissing her sweetly through her clothes. When he reached the open V of her blouse, he drew back and watched as his fingers dipped inside and traced the cups of her red lace bra.

“Rain check,” Felix muttered.

Her brows drew together. “What?”

Drawing her hips closer so the hard ridge of his cock pressed against her, Felix gave her a regretful look. “I can’t do lunch today. I have to run.” Poppy’s frown deepened, and Felix bent to kiss her lips in an attempt to chase it away. “Why don’t you catch up with the girls and have lunch with them today.”

That was all she had been doing lately. As much as she loved their time together, frankly, she was sick of seeing their faces. She wanted to spend her lunch with Felix, had been looking forward to it al
l day, and he was ditching her. “What’s so important that we can’t have lunch together?” she questioned.

“Important business stuff. Nothing to worry about.”

Well, that didn’t make her worry at all. Could he be any vaguer…or suspicious? Irritated, anxious, and worried—what the hell was going on?—Poppy began buttoning her blouse. “Fine, lunch with the girls,
again
,” she said snippily. “Should be fun.”

“Hey.” Hooking his finger under her chin, Felix tilted her head back to look at him. “I’m sorry. I know you’re disappointed. I’ll make it up to you, though, okay?”

Poppy stared into his obsidian eyes, searching for deception, but all she saw was the same earnest, honest, beautiful man she had fallen head over ass for. She deflated a little. If this relationship was going to stand a chance, she had to stop seeing red herrings flopping around every corner.

Jimmy
had done a real number on her, what with the lying and the cheating, and the more she committed herself to this relationship, the more she realized the truth of that. She thought she had left her baggage by the wayside a long time ago, but there were times—like these—that she realized she hadn’t so much as left them behind as stored them away in the back of the closet. Trust was harder than it looked.

With a tight smile, Poppy nodded. “I’m going to hold you to that,” she swore. Curling her fingers in the front of his shirt, she pulled him down to give him a kiss.

“A promise is a promise,” Felix said against her lips, the pulled away to check the time. “I gotta take off before I’m late. See you at home tonight?”

Poppy stumbled as she stepped down from his desk. “You’re not coming back after lunch?” she asked with a puzzled frown.

Straightening his tie, Felix reached for the suit jacket hanging off the back of his chair and pulled it on. “I have a feeling this one is going to take a while,” he said with a small grimace. Turning his back to her, he started shutting down his computer. “So I’ll see you at home?”

She couldn’t help it. His behavior struck her as odd. Maybe she was just reading too much into it? Shaking her head, Poppy agreed. “See you at home.”

***

“Speak of the devil.”

Poppy smiled as she dropped her purse on the table and sat down in the only available chair. “Hello, hello,” she said cheerfully. As upset as she had been earlier about Felix breaking their lunch date, the moment she set foot in the tiny bistro and saw her girls seated around the table, she couldn’t repress her smile. They just had a way of lifting her spirits.

“Okay,” Piper said, holding her hands out in front of her. “Settle this for us. Felix,” she stated dramatically. “How much does he weigh?”

A curious frown formed. “Uhhhh…one-eighty?” Poppy said, posing
it as a question.

“Wet or dry?” Shelia asked seriously.

“Dry?”

“Booyay!” Shelia exploded from her seat, pointing at each of the women in turn. “Loser. Loser. Loser. Lahoo-zuh-her! Pay up.”

“What the heck is going on?” Poppy asked as she watched each of the women dig into their purses and hand over five dollar bills.

Shelia wore a Cheshire size grin on her face as she counted out the money. Poppy looked to Piper in askance.

“Oh, we were just betting how much muscle each of our guys is made out of. Shelia cleaned us out.” She directed an amused glare at their friend.

“She should work for a circus,” Jules grumbled, snapping the metallic closure on her purse together.

Shelia’s head came up, and she grinned wickedly. “Would you like me to guess your weight next?”

“You do
, and the next time you ask me to wax your eyebrows, you won’t have any left when I’m through.”

Sheila raised both brows—a taunting gesture to be sure. “I think the most important question here
is why the hell Poppy is here?” Whipping her head around to look at her, Shelia propped her elbows on the table and leaned in. “Shouldn’t Felix have you bent over a table somewhere?”

The thing about Sheila, she had no filter. None whatsoever. Any thought to cross her mind was immediately purged through her mouth, which Poppy didn’t think was ever closed. She was abrasive, rude, crude, and at times, downright hilarious. She never thought she would find herself getting along with someone like her, but Sheila was the kind
of person that grew on others.

Poppy shrugged, masking the niggling of hurt with indifference. “Felix had a meeting or something. Important business,” she said, repeating what he’d told her.

“Whatever that means.” Sheila rolled her eyes dramatically and snapped open a menu. Poppy followed suit. She hadn’t been very hungry on her way here, but now that she was surrounded by warm, tantalizing aromas of fresh baked bread, herbs, and spices, she was ravenous. 

“What meeting?” Piper asked. “I thought the boys were going golfing this afternoon?”

Slowly, Poppy lowered her menu. “Golfing?” she asked, tilting her head.

Beside her, Lynn muttered something that sounded like ‘Oh, shit’ under her breath and slid lower on her chair with her face buried in her menu.

Piper’s expression would have struck her as comical had she not been so royally pissed off. “I mean…I thought…Didn’t Felix tell you?”

“That he was cancelling on me to go golfing?
I must have missed that one.” Poppy bit the inside of her cheek to keep from shouting. That dirty bastard. She knew something was up. Why didn’t she listen to her instincts?

She laughed nervously. “Well, I’m sure he just didn’t want to hurt your feelings. You know how men are.”

The waiter chose that moment to walk up and take their orders. They each ordered a glass of wine. Poppy chose the House white to go with her Fettuccine Alfredo and side salad. As the women chatted about their perfect lives—ignoring the fact that she’d just been told her boyfriend had lied to her—Poppy did the only thing she could do: smile and pretend she was listening, while she silently stewed.

From what she picked up in her half-there state, Piper was in the midst of teachi
ng her and Tate’s nearly eleven-month-old daughter to poo-poo on the potty. Christ, she hadn’t learned how to use a toilet until she was almost five. A sign of the times, or a severe delay, she had no clue. People were crazy. That’s how it went down in her book, anyway.

Lynn was happily man-
free. She was a workaholic who proudly admitted to her disease. Then there was Jules, who was on-again, off-again with Jon’s friend, Travis. Her choice. Apparently, he was just too absorbed in himself and his work to notice she was alive unless he needed a trophy to accompany him to the latest rich person’s ball. She couldn’t blame the girl for her decision. She wasn’t much of an elbow-rubbing, ass-kissing woman either, but Jules could outpace her in the socialite category every day of the week without batting a pasted-on eyelash.

Then there was Shelia, who couldn’t stop complaining about her insatiable need for sex and Tom’s lack of drive. Or rather, his iron will. Poppy didn’t really understand the problem there. She would take a man who doted on her and had meaningful talks and didn’t lie to her about going golfing with the guys over sex any day.

Her thoughts snagged on Felix. Where was he right now? At the range, or somewhere else he’d failed to tell her about? She had a good mind to whip out her phone and text a confrontational message to him right then and now, but she knew that would only open the door for more potential lies. No, when she questioned him, she wanted to be looking him square in the eyes so she could read his reaction. There was no escape. No mercy. Just the cold hard truth. And by George, come hell or high water, she would have her truth.

Once the meals arrived, Poppy tried to distract herself with light banter. She didn’t want to dwell on the negatives, because there was nothing that she could do to resolve her situation at that moment. Eat and be merry, that was her motto. When lunch was over, the women hugged it out, and then went their separate ways. Not in the mood to return to an empty
office, Poppy phoned in and let Vera, Bookish Temptations’ snooty, and ridiculously beautiful receptionist, know that she was going home for the day.

The grocery store was her next stop. She planned
to make a nice, home cooked meal. She envisioned setting out the good China and having a chilled bottle of merlot on the table. Maybe even a little candlelight and a little Anita playing the background.

Oh, Felix. The lengths he drove her to.

Seduction could be a bitch, as he would soon find out, because he wasn’t getting off easy tonight.

3

Felix dropped his nine-
iron into the bag and passed it off to the young caddie. “Could you take those inside for me, please?” He handed him a twenty and the boy happily ran off.

“So,” Tate said boisterously, “n
o women. No children. No supervision. Who’s up for a round of drinks? My treat!”

Jon and
Travis whooped in agreement and began packing it in for the afternoon.

Felix lagged behind as they began heading back to the country club. “As good as that sounds, I’m going to head out,” he announced.

The men stopped and passed him a look that asked if he was crazy. “What’s more important than a little male bondage?” Tate asked incredulously.

“Bonding,” Jon corrected him, slapping a hand down on his shoulder. “And I thought you were supposed to be a writer.”

“I am, which means I have creative license to botch the English language however the hell I want.”

Shaking his head, Jon waved them inside. “You two go ahead and order the drinks. I’ll catch up in a minute.” Waiting until they’d disappeared inside, Jon tipped his head and began walking. Felix figured that was his way of telling him to follow, so he got to walking, matching Jon’s long stride.

“What’s up?” Jon asked him as they strolled slowly down the terrace steps.

“What, me leaving?” Felix felt the skin between his brows crease. “I just have some things to take care of.”

“Business or pleasure?”

What was with the third degree? “Business,” he stated firmly. He wasn’t against answering questions, but when they were asked with a note of suspicion, he couldn’t help bristling. What business of Jon’s was it anyway?

Jon stopped walking and shifted to face him. “Good.”

Although Jon stood a couple inches taller than
he did, Felix stared him right in the eyes, unwavering. “Good?”

“Yeah
, good.” Pushing out a long, heavy breath, Jon started walking again, forcing Felix to fall in line. “We’re friends, right?”

“Uhh, yeah, of course.” Wasn’t that obvious by now? Jon had been his only friend for a while now. He gave him his job, paid him well, and they had a personal relationship. It didn’t get much friendlier than that.

“Good, now I won’t feel so bad about saying this.” Scratching the shadow of stubble forming on his cheek, Jon looked at the ground. “Just so you know, I’m not trying to accuse you of anything, but I’ve heard some things recently—” meaning his fiancée was telling tales “—and now…well, it gives me pause to consider.”

Great, just what he needed, Jon laying groundwork. That didn’t bode well for whatever he was about to say next.

“You said you were leaving to do some business, but you and I both know there’s nothing happening outside of that office that is business related right now.” Jon leveled him with his piercing blue eyes. “I’m not going to question you. Whatever your motivations, that’s your business, but you have to know, this doesn’t look good.”

Felix loo
ked away. Jon was right; none of it looked good. Not his lying to Poppy about where he was right now, and not about leaving, but that didn’t mean he was going to change his plans. “I’m sure it doesn’t, but I have my reasons,” he said, being purposefully vague.

Jon raised his hands in surrender. “I’m sure you do, which is why I am telling you now, from on
e man to another, whatever you’re up to, you need to be careful. Women are very intuitive creatures, and us men,” he said, waving a finger back and forth in the space between them, “we’re not the brightest crayons in the box. No matter how well you think you’re covering your tracks—even if it’s something as simple as stealing a scoop of her favorite ice cream when she told you she would hack it off with a rusty knife—they always find out. Eventually.”

Felix waited, silent, until Jon’s eyebrow arched. “Oh, you’re done now?” Stuffing his hands into his pockets, Felix started walking, this time taking the lead. “Look, I appreciate what you’re trying to do here, but whatever you’re thinking, don’t. I assure you, it’s not that.”

“It’s not?” Jon actually looked surprised.

“It’s not.” Felix smiled and raised his hand. “I really have to go.”

“Right, business.” Jon returned a tight smile, which told Felix all he needed to know. The guy didn’t trust him.

“
Business
. Catch you later.” Felix spun around. Thankfully, their little walk and talk had led them toward the front of the grounds. A few quick strides and he ducked through the tall, ivy-covered iron gates and into the parking lot. It didn’t matter what anyone thought he was doing. His business was not their business. He just hoped that they were man enough not to go blabbing to their other halves, or it wouldn’t stay his secret for long.

Sliding in behind the wheel of his Audi R8, Felix checked the digital display and noted the time.
Shit
, he was going to be late. As he fired up the engine and backed out of the parking space, he told his phone to make a call. The radio instantly cut off and the sound of the phone ringing filled the car.

“
Felix,” the soft, feminine voice purred. “I was expecting you ten minutes ago. Where are you?”

“Sorry, Gianna, I got held up. I’m on my way. That is, if I’m not too late.” Felix’s hands tightened around the wheel. He hoped like hell he wasn’t too late. He wasn’t sure when he would have another chance to get away.

“No, of course not. I left my day wide open, just for you.”

Felix blew out a relieved breath. “Great, then I’ll see you in a few.”

“See you then.”

A small smile crested as some of his tension began to drop away. If he played his cards right, he could spend a little time with Gianna and still be home in time for dinner without Poppy ever being the wiser. He’d planned this out perfectly. There was no way that Poppy could figure out what he was up to, unless someone opened their fat mouth. And they had better not open their damn mouth.

Jon was wrong.

As it turned out, Felix was late for dinner. He hadn’t expected to be gone for so long, but time had a way of getting away from him when he was enjoying himself. Gianna really knew what she was doing when it came to handling men, especially men like him, who knew exactly what they wanted and wouldn’t rest until they got it.

It didn’t help matters that it was the weekend, which meant that they would be staying at Poppy’s old country home, which meant that he had to add an extra hour to his drive time. He knew she loved the place, and he understood why she was reluctant to let it go, but it really was becoming an issue. One day they would have to choose—the house or the condo. It couldn’t be both.
An issue for another day.
She was probably already pissed that he was late. There was no need to add to it.

“Lucy, I’m home!” he called out in his best Ricky Ricardo impression. Dropping his tote by the door, Felix kicked off his shoes and hung his jacket on the peg nailed to the wall. He heard rustling in the kitchen and headed in that direction. “Hey, kitten, didn’t you hear…me…calling? What is all of this?”

Pausing in the doorway, Felix soaked in his surroundings. The kitchen was lit by candles. Dozens of candles. They were everywhere. Clustered in the middle of the small table in the corner, dotting the countertops, on the shelf over the stove alongside jars of spices. Not that he was complaining. The soft, ambient glow made Poppy’s exposed ass look plump and firm.

“Shit, baby, the maid’s uniform? Are you trying to give me a heart attack?” There really wasn’t much to it. There was the black cap with the white ruffles pinned to her hair, a mind-bogglingly short dress made of the same black and white material, and a pair of heel
s so tall he couldn’t process how she even began to walk in them.

She was stirring a pot of something on the stove when he came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and burying his face in the side of her neck. “Smells good,” he said against her skin, his lips slowly caressing her.

“This is the dessert. Homemade vanilla pudding. Dinner is on the table.”

It was?
He’d missed it completely. But could he really be blamed? With Poppy standing there in nothing but a dress that exposed every part of her that was worth exposing, he wasn’t left with much of an attention span. “Mmm, I think I’ll have my dessert first.” His hand slid up to cup her breast, which was spilling over the cups of the dress, while the other went in the opposite direction.

A moan ripped out of him as his fingers met her hot, wet flesh. “Shit,” he grunted, resting his forehead against her shoulder. He had barely touched her and he was
about to lose control. He needed to calm down.

Laying
down the spoon that she was using to stir the pudding with, Poppy shut off the stove and turned in his arms. When she lifted her arms to wrap them around his shoulders, his hands met the naked, round globes of her very fine ass, and he couldn’t resist pressing her up against him.

“I was hoping you would say that.” It took a moment for Felix to catch up and realize that she was talking about his comment to skipping dinner and going straight for dessert. Taking him by the hand, she tugged on his arm. “Come with me. I have something I want to show you.”

If it had anything to do with what was happening under that dress—which left absolutely nothing to the imagination—then he was all for it. The angels must have been smiling on him, because whatever it was she wanted to show him involved following her upstairs, giving him the perfect view of his most favorite parts of her. “Again, are you trying to kill me?” he asked as she led him into their bedroom.

“Death is not what I had in mind for tonight.”
Bo was lying in his usual spot: a palate in the corner. When he heard them walk in, he lifted his oversized head to look at them. “Bo, out,” Poppy commanded in her firm, no-nonsense voice—a voice that made his dick nearly punch through his zipper.

With a huff, Bo stood, took a moment to stretch out his
tired limbs, and then lumbered past them. Felix gave him a parting pat on the rump as he went.

Closing the door so he wouldn’t be mauled over what he was about to do to this sexy woman, who was no
w bending over in front of him as she turned down the bed, Felix began unbuttoning his slacks as he sauntered toward her.

“You are so damn sexy,” he rasped. Poppy paused with her hand on one of the pillows as Felix came up behind her and skimmed his fingertips lightly over her bared flesh. “You have the most perfect
ass I have ever seen.” Tracing a single finger down the crease of her buttocks, he found her slick opening and pushed it inside. Poppy gasped, and Felix leaned in, planting his fist in the mattress, his finger still buried inside her body.

Beside her ear, he whispered, “The tightest pussy I have ever felt.”

“Felix?” Her breath left her in short bursts, and he knew if he gave her a second finger and a little twist, she would detonate.

“Yes, kitten?” Sliding his finger out halfway, he inserted two more, pumping them slowly. Her head drooped on her shoulders and he felt a shudder wrack her body.

“Stop.” The single word, spoken like a lash, hard and sharp, froze Felix on the spot.

His dick was throbbing, the head pressing at the slit in his boxers. With one good rub against her backside, it would be free, and he would be inside her in less time than it would take to ask what he
should do next. “What?”

Standing straight, she pulled away from him. His fingers slipped free, coming away slicked in her juices. As she turned to face him, a
stern look on her heart-shaped face, Felix couldn’t remember a time when he’d been more turned on. “Tonight, I’m calling the shots. Get on the bed.”

He liked feisty Poppy. Didn’t see her often enough. Eager to get this thing started, Felix hopped onto the bed and rolled onto his back. He sent her a sly grin as he brought his fingers to his lips. “Yes, ma’am,” he said, and then sucked his fingers clean, one at a time.

Poppy’s jaw dropped for a moment, her eyelids growing heavy. “You’re a bad man, Mr. Sinclair.”

Felix watched as she placed one knee on the bed and began to crawl toward him. This time, his dick did break free, leaping from his boxers like a prisoner busting out of jail. “The worst,” he said his voice dark and husky with desire.

Straddling his thighs, she bent her head right over his dick, and with her eyes fastened on his, licked him from base to tip. Felix’s eyes closed and his body shuddered. Her mouth was the temple he worshiped at…the things she could do with her tongue…

Sliding slowly up his body,
Felix’s breath grew choppy as he watched his dick, swollen and dripping with precum, glide over her chin, down her throat, through the valley between her breasts and stop just short of the Promised Land.

Slipping her hands under the pillows, Poppy pulled out two tan stockings and sat back on his thighs. “What are you up to?” he asked, although it really didn’t matter, because whatever she had in store for them tonight, he knew he was going to have a great time.