“Hey.” He put his finger under her chin and lifted her face. “You don’t have to feel ashamed for what you wanted, Poppy, and you never have to feel ashamed around me.” Leaning down, he kissed her tenderly on the lips. “You have no idea how sexy you look in my shirt.”
Biting her lower lip, she inched away from him. “All the more reason for me to change. Let me put some clothes on. The sheets on your bed are wet, so I need to change them and start dinner.”
“My sheets are wet huh?” he asked with a suggestive wag of his eyebrows.
“N
ot like that,” she hissed and looked furtively around.
“Poppy, you don’t have to change the sheets on my bed. I’m sure I can manage it. And I’ll make some dinner as well.”
Her eyes widened in terror. “No. I remember the last time that you tried to make dinner, and I have a feeling that if I let you make your own bed, you’ll sleep without sheets tonight.”
“I could sleep in your bed tonight.”
“You wouldn’t fit,” she said automatically. Before he could argue with her anymore, she scurried to her room and firmly shut the door behind her. First, she rewet her hair and pulled a brush through it. Although Samir had seen her at her worst, for some reason, she felt the need to look nice for him tonight.
Regretfully, she pulled off his shirt and pulled on a black sweater and a pair of jeans. It had felt nice to wear something that belonged to him. Putting her scent on his things like she was marking her territory.
“Stupid,” she muttered as she stared at herself in the mirror. The last time she’d been this crazy about a guy, she was twelve, and she ended up punching him instead of admitting how she felt. She’d nearly been suspended from school for it.
What would Samir do if she punched him? Amused by the thought, she ran some powder over her skin and some shimmer over her lips. Running her fingers through her hair, she let it spill over her shoulders.
What was happening to her?
Samir probably escorted the most beautiful women on his arm. Women of status and elegance. Poppy never even felt pretty. Growing up with all men, she was always rough and dirty. Guys made passes at her in college, and sometimes she slaked her desire, but she’d never bothered trying to pretty herself up. She was in serious danger of losing herself to a man who would never think of her again after he left.
Still, she wouldn’t back down. She’d already stepped over the line, and she knew she’d never forgive herself if she didn’t finish what she started. Her job wasn’t in danger. She knew that. Melka could see that she wasn’t a threat. Everything would be fine.
When it was all over, she’d be fine as well. She wasn’t sentimental. One or two nights of pure physical, pleasure was all she wanted.
Taking a deep breath to steady herself, she opened the door. To her surprise, Samir was leaning over the coffee table. When he heard her, he straightened and smiled at her. Pressing a small remote, soft Christmas music surrounded her. A plate of appetizers sat on the table, and Samir looked so proud of himself.
“I know you don’t love Christmas, but I thought that maybe, with me, you might indulge a little.”
Cautiously, she stepped into the living room and tried to adjust. “I think I can handle this. Did you actually cook?”
“Well,” Samir ducked his head slightly. “I found these chicken tenders in the freezer.”
Poppy chuckled. The baked chicken pieces were piled on a plate next to some fruit and a bag of chips. “Samir, this is perfect. Thank you.”
“I also changed my own sheets.” There was a note of pride in his voice. “Poppy Milenne, you might domesticate me yet.”
She put her hands up. “Shh. Don’t say that too loud or I will lose my job.”
He reached out and grabbed her hand, pulling her closer. As he started to sway with her, he shook his head. “I told you, your job is not in jeopardy.”
“I know.” With a tentative smile, she let him dance her around the living room. At first, her steps were stiff and awkward, but the more comfortable she felt in his arms, the more fluid that she moved. Finally, she rested her head on his chest and listened to his heartbeat. “We still haven’t trimmed your tree.”
“I have other things on my mind,” he said seductively as he nuzzled her neck.
“Oh no, you don’t.” Poppy pulled away and shook her head. “You will not distract me from this wonderful dinner that you made me.” Sitting on the couch, she popped a chicken tender in her mouth and pretended to moan in delight.
“Wretched wench,” he growled playfully as he poured two glasses of wine. Sitting next to her, he reached over her and snagged a piece of chicken. Wrapping an arm around her body, he pulled her to him and held the tender up to her mouth.
“How romantic,” she giggled as she leaned over and took a bite. Samir kissed her ear and ate the rest.
“Not bad,” he said in surprise. “I honestly thought they’d be awful.”