KDBookOnline
Share Us
“Maybe you should put her on the sofa,” Mom said, wringing her hands. Her red hair had faded a bit since I last dyed it with henna, but otherwise, Rowan was her carbon copy.
“Mom,” I pleaded like a little kid. Rowan appeared like an angel of mercy. “They’re trying to give me a shot,” I yelled.
“Oh,” she said, twisting her hands just like Mom. “Is it something she needs?”
“No,” I said as Dr. Evers, Mom, and Chris said yes.
“You know how often she works with reclaimed metal,” Mom added. “She’s liable to cut herself at some point.”
“Better put her on the couch then,” Rowan said. “Last time she passed out.”
I take it back. I hated Rowan. I hated Dr. Evers, Chris, and Mom. I hated everyone. Well, maybe not Theo. He hadn’t done anything yet to piss me off. Frustrated me sexually, yes. But pissed me off, no.
Chris tossed me on the couch and sat on my legs while Mom and Rowan each held down an arm.
“Just close your eyes, Poppy,” Dr. Evers said in a soothing voice.
I should have listened. Instead, I watched Dr. Evers pull the instrument of death from his scrub pocket.
To their credit, Mom and Rowan were crying when I came to, and Chris looked like he wanted to puke. Dr. Evers had the decency to avoid eye contact with everyone.
“Fucking needles,” I said, burying my face in a couch cushion before the first tear escaped.
Chapter two
Theo
The art closet lookedexactly like I’d left it in November, which surprised me. Several people had the key, and I’d put everything away knowing the community center had scheduled single-day classes in December for kids to make presents for their families. Figuring they’d need to dip into the supply closet for a few things, I’d put the older brushes and water-soluble paint toward the front and tucked the oils and newer brushes in the back. I would have liked to help the kids make ornaments and picture frames, but I didn’t want any of them missing out because of me.
I only taught adults. Older ones mostly. If someone didn’t like my tattoos or piercings or past, they could leave. In my experience, kids didn’t care what I looked like. But their parents often did. And I wasn’t going to be the reason some first grader didn’t get to play with paint.
As I started pulling out supplies, the classroom door opened, and Poppy Stevens strutted in. I did my best to push down the surge of need that always rose whenever she neared.
“You’re early,” I said, placing a stack of plastic palettes on the nearest table.
“Thought I could help you,” she said, walking toward me. Her compact body had curves in all the right places, and she wasn’t shy about showing them. Her black skirt hugged her thighs and the V on her shirt dipped halfway to her belly button. I caught a flash of red beneath the black lace and realized I could see most of her bra. Poppy always looked sexy, but that was a lot of cleavage for an art lesson. Not that I was complaining. No doubt Mr. Twillings, the retired high school principal who always took my classes, would tell her to button up like he still had a dress code to enforce.
“Not much to set up tonight,” I said, turning back to the closet. “We’re beginning with color mixing.”
I started collecting some acrylics but stopped when Poppy’s arms wrapped around my waist. “That’s not the kind of help I’m offering.”
I sucked in a breath as she ran her hand down my stomach to the button of my jeans.
“Poppy,” I said, placing my hand over hers. “We’re just friends.”
“Do all your friends make you hard?” she asked, running her other hand over my erection. Because of course my dick had turned to stone the second she touched me.
“Please,” I said. Was I asking her to stop or keep going? Fuck, did I want her to keep going?
I turned to face her, still unsure if I was going to step away or pull her close. She dropped to her knees before I could decide and unzipped my pants. Then she looked up at me and wet her beautiful lips.
“Kardoula mou,” I said. She smiled like she understood what I called her but had never dared translate. My heart. I watched as she took me in her hand and licked my crown before suckingevery throbbing inch of me into her delicate mouth. I should tell her to stop, but her mouth felt amazing. All hot and wet and impossibly deep. She reached one hand under her skirt and began touching herself. Fuck, that was hot. My balls tightened. She moaned and the vibration set off my orgasm.
I came and came until I woke panting.
“Damn it,” I said, using the sheet to wipe the mess from my stomach. I glanced at my phone and groaned. 5:00 am. I’d gone to bed at one and hadn’t planned to be up for another four hours.
A normal man would jerk it before bed, so he didn’t wake up covered in cum before dawn. Or at least fall back asleep. I felt too guilty to do either.