Salvaged Page 60

His fingers dug into my hips and his forehead found mine as he eventually reached his own release. His eyes drifted closed and his breath huffed out in a long sigh as he lowered his body to mine. He wrapped his arms around me and slowly rolled us over so that he was the one lying on the hard and unforgiving floor.

“You okay, honey?” He was asking if I was freaking out after the fact about the position he put me in.

“I’m fine, but I think the first thing you need to buy yourself is a new bed.” I ran my hand down the inked length of his side and tilted my head so I could kiss the underside of his jaw. “You aren’t the only one making new memories in this house, Wheeler.”

“Floor sex is fun but hell on the knees.” He chuckled into my hair and gave me a squeeze. “I’m glad I didn’t scare you.”

I snorted and told him, “Your not-so-nice is still pretty damn nice, Hudson. That’s who you are.” And it was also why I loved him.

Having him on top of me, looking up at him while he took me to places I’d never been before, was the opposite of feeling imprisoned … it made me feel free. Now there really was nothing and nobody between us.

 

 

Wheeler


I’ll take this one.”

I looked at the salesman over the top of Poppy’s head, which at the moment was buried in the center of my chest. Her face was hot with embarrassment after I pulled her down on top of me and stretched out the full length of the couch I was contemplating buying. Obviously, I wasn’t spending money on anything we both didn’t fit on. There was no way anything was going in my living room unless I knew it was comfortable to sit on and to fuck on. Plus, I was annoyed at the way the guy’s gaze kept drifting to Poppy’s ass every time he thought I wasn’t paying attention. I made it a point to flatten my palm against that perfectly rounded part of her body as I held her to me.

The couch was fire-engine red and the legs were some kind of shiny metal that looked like chrome. It was the hot rod of couches and it was surprisingly comfortable. I didn’t even look at the price tag that had made Poppy wince when she flipped it over. I wasn’t going to worry about the cost. I liked it, and Poppy didn’t cringe because it was gaudy and tacky, so I bought it. It was the first time I was actively making myself a home instead of waiting for someone else to invite me into theirs. I was going all out. I deferred to Poppy’s choices when it came to the softer stuff that I needed, like the rugs and the curtains. I let her pick out the bedding for both my new California king and the new crib that was going in the smaller guest room. I figured she was going to be spending as much time between those sheets and underneath the comforter as I was, so it might as well be something she really liked. Because she was awesome and the perfect girl for me, she picked out a black-and-red chevron pattern that was both stylish and sexy. She got me. She had me.

I swung my legs over the edge of the couch and sat up with Poppy in my lap. She was laughing silently against the side of my throat and the guy that had been eyeing her for over an hour finally had the sense to look away.

“Great. We’ll get everything on the truck and scheduled for delivery as soon as possible. If you follow me up to the computer, we’ll get you all squared away … uh … congratulations on the purchase of your new home.” He stuck a finger in the collar of his shirt and waited while I set Poppy on her feet so I could climb to mine. I didn’t correct his assumption that we were furnishing a new house together and neither did Poppy.

I put my arm around her shoulders and lowered my head so I could growl into her ear, “I think I liked it better when you were hiding from the world. I didn’t feel like throat-punching every guy that looked at you back then.”

It wasn’t that she’d done anything really drastic with her appearance or her mannerisms, but the subtle changes were enough that most couldn’t help but do a double take when she walked by. She was still thin, built delicately and dainty, but now that she was eating more regularly she looked less like a broken bird. She was curved in all the right places and her flawless, golden skin glowed instead of being chalky and stretched too tightly across her bones. Her amazing eyes still flashed with the occasional spark of fear and uncertainty but more often than not they gleamed with amber heat and quiet contentment. More than any of that, though, she wasn’t jumping out of the path of strangers anymore. She didn’t automatically look away and she no longer seemed to shrink inside herself when out in public. She still wasn’t overly touchy-feely. The people she put her hands on willingly were me and her family, but she didn’t quake and crumble when it was time to shake hands like she used to and she didn’t cower away from the suggestive looks from strangers even though I wished she would.

She wound her arm around my waist and rested her head on my shoulder. “No throat-punching. It doesn’t matter who might look at me or might look at you because we’ve only had our eyes on each other since the beginning.”

It was true. I couldn’t see anyone but her, and I had to say: the view was spectacular. “You mind letting me crash at your place for a couple of days until I get all this new stuff situated?”

She shook her head no and her arm tightened around my waist. “No, it will give me the chance to ask you for a favor I’ve been putting off since Christmas.”

She looked up at me from under the inky veil of her long lashes and I knew there was no way I would ever deny her anything. “Since Christmas? That was weeks ago, why didn’t you bring it up before now?”

She sighed and waited while I handed over my credit card to the jackass with the roving eyes. Filling out the paperwork took longer than I would have liked and the sales guy’s eyes lingered on the fit of Poppy’s sweater way longer than was appropriate. Once I scrawled my signature on the last form, I handed the guy his pen and leaned in close so that our noses were practically touching. I narrowed my eyes at him and poked him right in the center of his ugly, cheap tie. “A word of advice, friend.” I bit the word out through gritted teeth and an angry snarl. “The way you leer at women suggestively the entire time they are trying to go about their business, and not showing any signs of interest in what you’re laying down, makes them uncomfortable. They are not here for you. They’re here for furniture.”

His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down and a fine sheen of sweat broke out across his forehead. “I think you got the wrong impression, sir. I was just trying to be attentive. We work on commission.”