Found

EIGHTEEN

EIGHTEEN

Once the boys came back with their tools, Poppy left them alone with Emmie directing while Ashlee slumbered in front of the movie.

All Turner had asked of her was a corner, so Poppy took some time to prepare one for them while her love did his thing fixing Noah’s bed.

When Turner came back into their bedroom, she leaped up from her perch to hurry over to him. “Come with me.”

“What?” he asked, allowing her to lead him from the room. “Where are we going?”

They went down the stairs and out onto the lit terrace. Staying close to the wall, she crept along with him behind her, being quiet, feeling like a teenager sneaking out. If her parents saw her dragging Turner out onto the dark grounds, they might wonder what was going on, but she didn’t see them chasing after her.

“I showed your sister something today,” she said, once they were out of earshot of the house. “I think it’s something you might like too.”

“Okay,” he said. “You know I have to work tomorrow?”

“Yes,” she said, guiding his arm around her shoulders to pull herself tight to his side. “It’s not that late. It just feels late. It’s only about ten o’clock. I promise to have you asleep by midnight.”

“Two hours, huh?” he teased. “Must be quite a trek.”

“It’s not far,” she said, peeking up to assess his expression. “Doesn’t mean you won’t work up a sweat.”

His smile descended to her head, burying itself in a kiss in her hair.

The music room wasn’t far away, but it was surrounded on three sides by trees, which gave them great cover. Even if the lights were on, it wouldn’t be immediately obvious from the house.

The rear stone wall of the music room wasn’t much to look at, it didn’t give any hint as to the curved glass frontage at the other side of the structure or the domed glass ceiling. As she took the key from her pocket to unlock the door, Poppy was nervous, hoping Turner would like the space that meant so much to her.

“A locking door. I like it already.”

The main door locked, though the doors to the deck didn’t. Poppy didn’t worry about letting him know that just yet. She led him into the hallway and paused at the internal door, bolstering her confidence before taking him inside. Her grand piano stood to the right and she’d come down while he was fixing the bed to open the doors and turn on the deck fairy lights. She’d put drinks out there for them too.

“I have candles I can light as well,” she said as he scanned the space. “I just didn’t want to leave them burning when I came back to the house.

Intending to light them, Poppy let him go, but he snagged her hand to yank her back to him. “Best corner I’ve ever seen.”

The space had secrets that she hadn’t intended to tell him straight away. His hand swept her hair away from her face and he crouched to join their mouths. They were alone. For the first time in what felt like forever, they were by themselves, without anyone through the wall or listening from elsewhere in the structure.

Pulling away from his kiss before it drugged her out of her senses, Poppy wriggled free of him and dashed over to the deck to bring their drinks inside.

“What are you doing?” he asked, watching her struggle with the bottle of wine, six-pack of beer, and the glass. “You need help?”

“Nope,” she said, putting everything on the table by the shelves and rushing back to turn off the fairy lights and close the glass doors. “I always loved these drapes.” Pulling the heavy fabric from one side of the curved façade to the other, she loved how they blocked out the world. “Whenever I was arguing with my parents or upset about something, this is where I would come. The music room.”

“It’s beautiful,” he said, his head tipped back, suggesting he was admiring the night sky on show above them.

“It became my space. My sisters weren’t as passionate about their instruments. I could spend hours here, they cared more about the beach or gazebo. Anywhere they could hang around with their friends, on the estate, but further from the house.”

“You liked the music.”

“Mm hmm,” she said, going to the shelving to locate the right book. When she pushed it, the hidden bed descended from the center of the unit. “If you haven’t figured it out already, my grandmother indulges my flights of fancy.” Poppy flicked a switch under the shelf to turn on the internal fairy lights that ran around the perimeter of the floor. “There was a point in time I promised never to return to the house. She had all this put in for me, so it became my unofficial bedroom.”

Which was part of the reason her sisters were given the large suites on the third floor of the house. They had their own grand space, but hers was the most special. In her opinion anyway.

She’d already put a fresh sheet on the bed and the other bedding was in the closet by the door. But Poppy slipped off her shoes and wriggled out of her dress to crawl onto the middle of the bed on her knees wearing only her underwear.

“I thought I would romance you on the deck and then tempt you to bed,” she said, l*****g her eager lips. “But your kiss reminded me… I can’t play it cool with you, First.”

“I would never want you to,” he said, wasting no time in joining her.

He sat on the bed and pulled her to him, tucking her body beneath his, as eager in his need as her hormones needed him to be.

“First,” she complained when he twisted to bend off the edge of the bed.

He was fighting to unlace his boots, she heard him curse beneath his breath. Impatience moved her without thought. Contorting herself to climb over him and off the bed, Poppy was on her knees, unlacing his boots when his fingers dove into her hair to force her head back. Kissing him while loosening the knots of his laces, she welcomed him taking the lead. It wasn’t her natural state to put on a grand seduction, and he was the one she wanted in control.

Once his feet were bare, he cupped her jaw, drawing her up and back onto the bed, pausing only to take off his tee-shirt while she loosened his jeans.

It wasn’t romantic, but it was what they needed. “We have…” Poppy panted, her whole being in a frenzy. “We should talk.”

Rising from her cleavage, he kissed her lips. “About how bad I need to be inside you,” he growled, kissing her again. “How much I need you?”

Not what she meant, but it would do. “Mm hmm.”

Using her hands and feet, she fought with the denim on his legs, pushing and kicking at it to free him from the fabric.

“Baby, I’ve never needed anything more.”

His tongue plunged deep into her mouth, occupying her hormones while he rid her of the delicate underwear she’d taken so long to select. Poppy should’ve known her apparel wouldn’t matter. Turner didn’t care about what was on the outside. He wanted to be with the essence of her, the deepest, most intimate part of her that he’d captured before she’d known it existed.

Loving him was easy. Showing him just how intense and all-consuming that emotion ran was so much more difficult. The pleasure they shared was incredible, but nothing seemed enough to demonstrate the true lengths she’d go to for this man. Her man.

“First,” she whimpered, coiling her legs around his as his mouth descended her body in a wild exploration. “Please.”

Understanding her need, she hoped because his matched it, Turner stopped kissing her and rose to meet her eye. There it was. The love. The adoration. Everything he couldn’t say shone down on her in that heated, worshiping gaze.

In all those weeks they’d been intimate before Holden’s bounty, their rules had f*******n them from talking about what they felt and what they could be. Back then, Turner had been busy enough that he may not have had time to think about it or he’d been able to distract himself from what was going on between them. That didn’t mean it hadn’t been happening while he wasn’t watching.

“You’re doing it to me,” she said, stroking his face.

One side of his mouth lifted. “I love you, Candy-Cane.”

Being alone, in bed, surrounded by the intimacy of low light, beneath a canopy of glorious stars, the moment couldn’t get more perfect for declaring the truth they’d never really had the time to absorb.

“I love you too.”

The twitch of his lip was all the acknowledgement she needed. Hearing the words had to mean so much to him. When he’d arrived on the estate, Poppy had tried to build a wall, to do what she thought was best for him and his family. Despite his confidence, it must have hurt him that she didn’t immediately acknowledge the truth of her own feelings.

He’d once told her that he’d been alone for fifteen years. Even surrounded by his family, some part of him had always been isolated. That was the part he was sharing with her. For a man like Turner, it wasn’t easy to show vulnerability or even admit that he had any.

Bathed in his esteem, Poppy’s skin prickled. The depth of that gaze, how it traveled across her features, absorbing her, memorizing her, touching every part of her. Poppy could feel him inside her in the most intimate way. Although her desire was still hot in her belly and she yearned to be joined with him, a pang of disappointment struck when he blinked and shifted to align their bodies.

He could make love to her with his eyes any time, they’d come to that secret, private place to do something so much more physical.

All negative emotion was chased away when he pushed into her. Filling her up, he aroused all the desperate anticipation that had plagued her. They were making love for the first time since admitting their love. For the first time as a couple. As a pair with a future. She’d never be without him again, never be alone, never have to face anything without his support.

They moved together as they always had, yet it felt different. Poppy needed him more than she ever had. Wanted him more. The importance of the heated friction of their bodies took on new meaning. He was her love. Her future. Her sun. Poppy didn’t doubt, couldn’t doubt, that he felt the same about her.

“First,” she gasped as their intensity grew.

“I’ve got you.”

That whispered reassurance plunged her into the glorious abyss of o****m. She lost all sense of time, all sense of the world and any reality other than the one she existed in with him. Poppy called out so loud that if she’d been able to find rational thought, she’d have been grateful for taking them out of the house.

The noise didn’t end there. Whimpering and moaning through the aftershocks that went on forever only to almost immediately herald an ascent toward another c****x, Poppy let go of all inhibition. She released all ties to her former life, her single life, her existence before becoming his. The constraints fell away until every atom of her being, every fiber of her soul belonged to him.

On the next crescendo, she tensed in a spasm so great that she went rigid, holding onto him for every possible second, begging his body to live in hers. They were supposed to be together, supposed to be an extension of each other. Nothing was insurmountable, not so long as they were connected in love, physical and ethereal.

“Turner,” Poppy yelped, digging her nails into his shoulders when he surged up hard, spilling himself into her.

Completing each other had been the life mission for each of them. Everything made so much more sense now that Poppy had found him. The world made sense. Content wasn’t the right word. Consumed wasn’t either. When it came to Turner, she was everything, every positive emotion all at once.

Nothing close to negativity could seep into their bubble. Not in that moment of that night. They were each other’s. As Turner gathered her against his side and she rested her head on his chest, Poppy wondered if it would always be the same way between them. To live with such completeness made her feel bad for all those who didn’t have it.

Love was real. It was hers. It was Turner’s. It belonged to them and they belonged to it.

Unwelcome reality began to trickle back in as the endorphins of satisfaction ebbed. They loved each other, but was it enough? Could love get them through what lay ahead?