Running From Love

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Running From Love Page 8

by Maggie Marr


  “You spied on me?” Her heart pounded and a caged feeling tightened around her. “You were spying on me and you followed me and now you’re telling me all these things about your life.” She couldn’t catch her breath. She spun in place and her vision swept over the expanse of the ocean around to the glass windows. She started toward the sliding doors. Her fingers closed around her phone. She would Uber. She couldn’t stay, she wouldn’t be hemmed in, or contained, or—

  “Stop.” Trevor’s hand grasped her forearm. She didn’t pull away from his touch. In his eyes were compassion and love and kindness. All the things that made her love Trevor, but also made her want to run. “If you have to go, I’ll take you home. No questions asked.” Sadness pulled at the corners of his lips. “I don’t want you to be afraid, or feel claustrophobic. I want you to feel happy, and if this … if I don’t make you happy then I … I want you to go.”

  The panic in her belly slipped away. “No.” Her voice trembled. “I don’t want to go, Trevor … it’s just … I’m scared.”

  Trevor nodded. “I know.”

  He pulled her into his arms and the warmth of his body surrounded her. The flame that was always present between them heated them both.

  “My God, Poppy, I’ve missed you.”

  She tilted her head, and their lips met. Her body ached for his touch. His hands drifted over her shoulders and down her back until he cupped her ass through her skirt. He pulled her forward against the hard insistence of his sex. Her hips tilted forward toward him. Desire for him rushed through her body and her nipples tightened beneath the cloth of her dress. His skin, she needed the hard warmth of his skin. She tugged at his shirt and raised it over his head. In the firelight, with the glow of the moon, her eyes feasted on his flesh. He was beautiful perfection. The chiseled body of a surfer. A man who loved to move. Her hands trailed over his golden hued skin, tight over hard muscles. She wanted him, with all her heart she wanted him. He lifted her dress over her head and his eyes gorged on her flesh. He stepped back and looked at her. A deep thrill of want clasped her belly.

  “You’re perfect.” His voice, like warm velvet, caressed her body. His hand reached out and tipped her chin up toward him. He stepped forward and his lips took hers. A hungry, powerful kiss. His tongue slid along the seam of her lips until they opened to him. As his tongue probed deep into her mouth, his hand caressed her back and unsnapped her bra. The silk dropped to the deck. Both of his hands cupped her breasts. His breath came faster. The pads of his thumbs stroked over her tight nipples.

  His mouth pulled from hers. “My God, Poppy.” His lips pulled her nipple deep into his hot, wet mouth. She arched upward and his hand flattened against her back. My God, but she loved him, loved his touch, and loved the strong masculine scent that was Trevor. He smelled of sunshine and salt air and man … just strong man. He released her breast and pulled her up into his arms. He walked to the long full chaise lounge and lay her down on the deep luxe cushions. He knelt before her. His lips now on her belly. His hands grasped her thong panties and pulled them down over her knees.

  Heat barreled through her body. She wanted him, and her hips arched to meet him as the flat of his hand held her belly in place. He pulled her leg up and placed her knee over his shoulder. Her entire body tingled with the knowledge of where his mouth would soon be. His touch. His tongue. His deep caress of every inch of her sex. His mouth trailed over her belly to the edge of her curls.

  “You smell like heaven.” He lifted his head, took her other leg, and placed it over his shoulder. His mouth skirted around her curls and her sex clenched. His tongue slid down from the top of her sex, brushed over her clit.

  Heat ripped through her body. She grasped the pillow, clutching and clawing with pleasure. Her hips thrust up. She wanted more, she needed more, the release that his mouth could provide. His tongue thrust into her and his finger stroked over her engorged clit as his tongue pulsed in and out of her sex.

  “God, oh my God, yes.” She grasped his head and pulled him closer. The edge of pleasure cut so close and sliced through her body. His finger stopped caressing her clit and he pulled his mouth away from her sex and kissed along the sensitive flesh of her thigh.

  “No, no, no.” His lips on her sex, she needed his mouth on her, gorging and sucking and pulling her over the edge to the sweet abyss.

  “You like that, baby?” Trevor’s voice held a lilt of teasing.

  “Yes, please, please.”

  His hot breath blew over her curls and tendrils of want squeezed her insides. He moved closer and his tongue flicked out and over her sex, over the tiny engorged spot, the nerves already on fire from his touch. Her hips spasmed upward. His mouth latched onto her and his tongue twirled over and around her clit, with the suction pulling her, pulling her.

  “Oh my God, Trevor, yes, yes, yes!” She shattered into a million pieces while the ocean waves hit the shore.

  Chapter 10

  The darkness surrounded them, the metronomic beat of the water against the shore their companion. Poppy lay naked on the chaise beneath the moon. Her body’s curves glistened in the moonlight and firelight, the curls between her legs still soft and wet. Her chest heaved from the exertion of their passion. Trevor put his arms around her, pulled her close, and lifted her. Poppy curled into his arms and settled her head against his chest.

  Her weight was perfect, as though every bit of her was built for him. Through the dark coolness of the house and toward the stairs he carried her. Her naked flesh warm against his body. He’d feast on her further. Take her over the edge into pleasure again and again and again. He entered the privacy of the master bedroom. Trevor laid her in the center of the giant king-sized bed that faced a wall of windows overlooking the sand, the sky, and the ocean. He lay beside her and pressed his lips to hers. A hard churning in his belly. He needed to be inside Poppy. To take her, to make her his.

  His hand trailed down her body and slid between her legs. His finger stroked her clit, wet and moist and swollen and sensitive. With the slightest touch, Poppy’s hips thrust upward.

  A tiny moan came from her throat. The noise nearly undid him. His entire body wired tight with his need to take her. His hard cock pulsed between them. Poppy’s hands grasped him. With a long even stroke she slid her fingers down over his sex. She pushed him onto his back. Her dark eyes smoldered with a heat and she watched his face as she slid down his belly. Her lips trailed hot kisses.

  Trevor’s breath shortened. Her long curly hair trailed behind her lips. She got to the edge of his sex and turned herself to watch him. His gaze was locked onto her face. Her mouth parted, lush lips opening. Her tongue slipped from her mouth and slid over the rim of his cock. She circled his head while her hand stroked a long slow pull down his shaft and back up. Her lips took the entire top of his cock and drew his sex deep into the hot wetness of her mouth. Her hand stroked faster and tighter. Drops of pre-come spurted from him and Poppy’s tongue swiped over the top of his sex.

  Heat built in his balls. Her eyes were wide and her full mouth pressed down over his shaft. She took him deep into her mouth again. Her lips closed around him. She sucked, her hand gently cupping his balls. That hot wet mouth squeezed tight and suctioned his shaft.

  Damn. He wouldn’t hold back much longer. She stroked her mouth down him with faster movements that took all of him. Every muscle in his body tightened. She gently pulled and flipped onto her back. He kneeled above her. She adjusted him so each of his knees was on either side of her.

  Jesus. Sweet Jesus. His whole cock was in her mouth. Her hair a wave around that beautiful face. Those full lips took all of him deep into her throat. She widened her mouth for more. The vision of this beautiful woman whom he loved with her mouth wide and his cock deep in her throat. The vulnerability of the position. The surrender. The heat. Fuck.

  Her hands held his hips. She pulled him and he leaned forward, slowly pressing deeper into her throat. The liquid heat. His balls tingled. Not long. Not long.
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  “Fuck, Poppy, this is …” He couldn’t speak. He slid his cock from her mouth. A shiver pulled down his spine. Her hands held him tight and he stroked back into the wet suction of her mouth. “Fuck, this is amazing!”

  Her hands clasped him and her nails dug into the flesh of his ass. Her mouth closed around him again. Her eyes widened and he pulled back, fear that he might hurt her clutching his belly, but her hands urged him on. She pulled him closer, his cock going even deeper into her throat. Her tongue wrapping around his shaft. She gently squeezed his balls and the heat tore through his body. Control was lost.

  “Oh Poppy, baby, baby, I’m going to come.” He leaned back to pull his cock from her mouth, but she grasped him tight. Her tongue licking and stroking the side of his cock. Every muscle in his body hardened. The hot come thrashed through him and shot deep into her throat. She licked and swallowed around his cock. A hard shiver pulsed through his body. He pulled his sex from her mouth. He leaned forward and kissed her. Pulled her into his arms.

  “Baby, oh, my God, Poppy, that felt so good.”

  She turned onto her side and stretched out beside him. His fingers ran over her long curly hair. Her flesh hot against his. How impossibly beautiful she was. He pressed his lips to the tip of her nose. A sigh claimed him and warmth flooded his chest. This. Moments like this with Poppy in his arms were how he wanted to spend his entire life. Nothing mattered. Money, no money, job, no job—as long as she lay alongside him for every night of his life, he would be content.

  His hand pressed down her side, to the curve of her waist. Her lips kissed his and soon his sex sprang upward, ready again to claim this woman. He would never grow tired of Poppy. Couldn’t tire of her. This heat, a sultry sort of confidence, came off of her always, plus an ungraspable presence, as though she were quicksilver at her essence and would slip through his fingers should he grasp her too tightly. He scooped her breast into his hand and leaned forward. He pulled that taut bud of a nipple deep into his mouth.

  “Oh, Trevor.” Her moan nearly unraveled him. To hear her voice ripe with pleasure.

  She rolled onto her back and he moved above her. His forearm pressed to the mattress beside her head as he suckled her breast. He released her nipple and moved to her other breast. His hand drifted down her skin to her curls and again his fingertips found her clit. Soft, wet, still engorged with desire. He circled and her hips thrust up.

  “Trevor, please, oh my God, Trevor, I want you in me.”

  He positioned himself over her and spread her thighs. The head of his cock nudged the tight ring of her entrance, smooth and warm and wet. He pressed forward. Heat gathered in the base of his spine. Desire to thrust in hard and fast, and to sheath his cock to its root, nearly overcame him. He pushed forward slowly into the smooth tightness of her sex.

  “Yes, oh my God, yes.” She wrapped her legs around him, her feet pressing against the tight muscles of his ass. Her fingers clawing into the muscles of his back.

  “Please, harder, oh my God, harder!”

  He couldn’t fight the need. He thrust up and into her. The smooth silken heat of her body took him and melded her to him. Trevor pulled back and drove forward. Again she clung to him tight and close, and he stroked forward and back.

  Her eyes were open. A window to the feelings she didn’t speak. Their gazes locked onto each other as he took her. Their bodies fused together. No end, no beginning, just one. A mass of pleasure and desire.

  The sound of the ocean roared through the windows, sealing them together. Heat throbbed through Trevor, his balls tightening and drawing upward with each thrust. The base of his spine tightened. He pushed deeper, her body yielding to him. The heat in his balls searing within him. He pressed. He was losing his rhythm now, his control.

  “Baby, Poppy, baby—”

  “Oh my God, Trevor, you feel so good, please,” she whispered. “Please.”

  The heat coursed through his balls and spurted inside her. He thrust forward, his body tensing a final time. Her sex tightened and tightened again, holding his cock deep inside her as the come shot out. Her arms clamped around his back. His gaze locked with Poppy’s and the roar in his mind ceased. Poppy. There was only Poppy. In this moment, in this world, in this universe it was only them, together as one.

  *

  Poppy slipped from Trevor’s arms and reached for a white T-shirt. Before putting it on, she pressed the cotton to her nose. A long deep breath. She inhaled the scent of Trevor, the man she loved. Lush and rich with hints of sunshine and salt air. She pulled his shirt over her head and walked toward the wall of windows. Just beyond the open sliding doors was a deck. She walked out and the cool night hair slid over her skin. The ocean rolled in and out, and the surf gently caressed the sand in the darkness of the night. Bright bits of starlight scattered across the blackened sky. The last time she’d slipped from Trevor’s bed they’d been in Tahiti and she’d thought that she was leaving him, perhaps never to see him again. She’d been running from her emotions for so long. Why? The first time she’d run, what had she been trying to escape? She’d been the only one left at home with her father, who didn’t seem to want her there. She’d landed at her brother Brian’s place, but had felt like a fifth wheel amongst his mates. Then she’d finished university and shown up at Mimi’s, but Mimi had already settled with Daniel. She’d run from Los Angeles, thinking that Mesquale would be the perfect fit. A life without commitment. No way of getting caught in emotional entanglements.

  A deep breath. Now what? Now she was madly in love and quite likely wanted to settle with Trevor. Yet she’d run from him too, dodging his love to flee to Los Angeles.

  Her chest tightened. The desire to run again surged through her body. Trevor loved her and she loved him, so what was her problem? She pulled her hand through her hair. Really? Was she so messed up that she’d run away from a man who loved her? A good man who wanted her and made her entire body quiver with pleasure?

  She gripped the deck rail with her hands and leaned back. Her eyes met the moon. The cold orb that hung high above her in the sky, keeping company with the stars. Trevor deserved a woman who would commit to him. A woman who wouldn’t run away from him simply because of the tightness in her chest. Could she be that woman? Could she embrace all that he had to offer with her entire heart? Fear over who she was, based on what her parents had been, filled Poppy. Would she continue to run away from love? Would she fold like a house of cards at the first sign of trouble or inconvenience?

  “It’s cold, why are you out here?”

  Poppy’s skin shivered with the caress of Trevor’s rough voice. He wrapped his arms around her and she dropped her head back against his chest. His arms, thick with muscle, pulled her close and warmed her body. She could stand here in these arms for a lifetime if she’d only surrender to the love in her heart. If only she could banish her fears …

  “I couldn’t sleep and the view is beautiful.”

  “There’s nothing more beautiful than you.” He pressed his lips to the top of her head. “But the stars and the moon are pretty spectacular.” He turned Poppy in his arms and his piercing blue eyes locked onto her. “Don’t run away this time, okay?”

  She nodded. He deserved better than an empty bed with nothing but a three-line note. Lucky for her, he hadn’t believed the cavalier words she’d written before her Mesquale disappearing act.

  “I love you.”

  His face split into a smile at her words. “Why do you think I followed you halfway around the world?” He pulled Poppy closer. “I love you too, Poppy. You know that, right?”

  She nodded. His love tickled her heart but caused her gut to tumble with fear. The devil on her shoulder screamed: Run! She loved Trevor. She trusted Trevor. She just couldn’t believe in the idea that love lasted.

  He pulled her closer. “Let’s go to bed. We’ll talk in the morning.” His gaze searched her face. The desire for her happiness evident on his face, in his arms, the way his eyebrow hitched upward.
>
  Poppy nodded. They needed to talk in the morning. They’d had six months of intimacy and yet had resisted building a relationship. What other secrets did he have to disclose? At Mesquale the two of them had great sex, but also a host of half-truths and omissions. Time for truth telling now, and hope that once they’d finished, Poppy would no longer need to run.

  Chapter 11

  “This is your mom and dad?” Poppy pointed to a picture on a table behind the couch.

  Trevor turned away from the stove. He held a spatula in his left hand. “That’s them. The little guy beside them is me.”

  “Trevor! You’ve always been adorable.”

  “Ha! I’m guessing Mom might not agree. I think there was a period of about five years she refused to take me to the grocery store because of all the fits I threw.”

  Poppy walked back to the kitchen table and sipped her mug of coffee. The ocean view wasn’t just a part of this house, it defined it. The entire west wall was glass from floor to ceiling. She stood between the kitchen and the deck with her arms crossed over her chest.

  “Looks like some weather today.” Trevor flipped the eggs onto two plates.

  Not the usual bright-blue So Cal day. Instead gray clouds hung low over the Pacific, turning the water an angry dark grayish-blue. Steep, white-peaked waves churned against the shoreline.

  “Inside or out?”

  “I vote in,” Poppy said. “Too windy.”

  “Agreed.” Trevor set down the plates and pulled the sliders shut. “Hungry?”

  “Starved.”

  “Good to see you have an appetite.”

  He brushed his lips against the top of her head and a flush of heat lit up her neck. Yes, she did like to eat, especially after a night of good sex. A fact he already knew from their six months together. He sat across from her and topped off each of their cups of coffee.

  “So,” he said before taking a large bite of his eggs, “this silence feels awkward, doesn’t it?”

 

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