Page 40 of Painkiller (Sin Records #3)

Dammit! Why am I all over the place with him? Every thought feels like a damn question. Every question leads dangerously close to him.

Breathe, Poppy, breathe.

He smirks, and I realize I said all of that out loud. Fantastic.

“I mean, I guess it’s not that big of a deal, right? I haven’t had anyone in my bed either.” I joke, switching back to what started this, trying to reset before I unravel further. “Living with your grandmother doesn’t exactly produce the best environment for hookups. It’s just easier to—”

“Two sentences. That’s all it took for me to feel relieved and then homicidal all over again.”

“You really should get over that, you know? Not only do I work with men, but my new job kind of requires a good bit of nudity. Besides, I’m not the kind of girl who will avoid the opposite sex because it might upset my boyfriend.”

His mouth twitches. “We’ll get back to the job part, but boyfriend?”

“That’s not what I…I mean, you’re not. Jesus fucking christ why can’t I think around you? You make me stupid.”

The smirk turns to a soft smile. His eyes take on a look that I refuse to name but makes my insides flutter. “Flustered.”

“What?”

“You get flustered. Not stupid.” He leans closer. “It means you like me.” His lips brush mine, but unlike the massage room, it’s not dominant and overpowering. It’s soft and sweet. Not two words I associate with him, but just like every other time, I quickly sink into the kiss, becoming a puddle.

His fingers tangle in my hair while our tongues caress in a gentle give and take that’s intimate and sensual. So many emotions ignite inside me. Emotions that are terrifying me, but the urge to run is squashed by the way his mouth explores mine.

Desire heats my body, but not the frenzy-filled kind I usually feel with him. This is a deep aching, a yearning to be connected to him on a more profound level. “What are you doing to me?”

“That’s my line,” he whispers as he begins nipping at my neck, parting my robe, and skimming his fingers over my belly.

A soft moan escapes me as I shiver at his touch.

My head falls back, lips parting as he drifts lower.

The lightest of touches against my needy clit takes my breath as he plants kisses down my throat.

Like a feather brushing against me, he teases as a slow, building fire trickles down my spine.

“Please,” I mutter into the air.

“Please, what, Halfpint? Tell me what you want.”

“You.” The moment the words are uttered into existence, the world around me ceases to exist. Waves of euphoria wash over me, igniting every cell. “You,” I whisper again when my breath returns. “All of you, Jagger.”

He presses his mouth against my shoulder. “I told you this wasn’t about sex.”

“Then what was that?”

“That was about you and for you. Another first for me.”

“First?”

“I don’t usually give a shit if the other person gets off, Halfpint, as long as I do.”

I let the statement settle in my mind, accept it, then say, “Me wanting you isn’t about sex, either,” I whisper, bringing my hand to his cheek.

He leans into it with a soft moan. “I don’t have a condom, baby. And as much as I want to be inside you, I won’t cross that line.”

“I told you I have an implant.”

“Implants fail. So do condoms. But the chances of accidents happening are less if we use both, so it’s a hard line for me. Besides, your next appointment is in five minutes. That’s not even enough time to get warmed up.”

My mind swirls. Once again, I have no idea how to feel. I appreciate the concern. Babies are life changers. But his line? I’m not sure what to make of it. Usually, I’m the one telling the guy to wrap up. Not the other way around.

Let it go, Poppy. It’s a trivial thing, and it’s safer this way.

So I focus on the other thing he said, “ Another appointment? How many did you book for us?”

“Us? Just the massage and sauna. You?” He lifts me, setting me to my feet, then links his fingers through mine. “Everything I could think of a girl might need to feel pampered?”

I’m not a crier. Not over cutesy things. Not over-mushy Hallmark romance. Love declarations, dying lovers…none of it fazes me.

Don’t give me that look. I’m not heartless. I cry when the dog dies.

And I don’t freaking swoon. It’s insane when girls get all giggly and squeal or whatever it is they do when a guy does something nice.

But I’m swooning, ladies and gentlemen. And that fire burning my nose isn’t allergies.

I keep my eyes on the floor as he leads me to the door. “Why did you do all of this?”

He stops with his hand on the handle, turns, and looks at me. His head tilts as he searches my face. “Where did we first meet?” He must see my confusion. “I know it’s been two weeks, not two years, but humor me.”

“The restaurant.”

“And what were you doing?”

“What do you mean, what was I doing?” I laugh. “I can’t afford to do anything in that place but work.”

“And the next night?”

“The club. It was technically an interview of sorts, but Dominic put me to work.”

“And the next night, I saw you dance for two hours in Sleeping Beauty. Literally, since the first day I’ve met you, you’ve been working.

I’ve done the math. You sleep, what? Three?

Four hours a night? If you’re not working, you’re rehearsing.

If you’re not rehearsing, you’re taking classes.

I bet it’s just by chance you aren’t working at the restaurant today, isn’t it? ”

“Maybe,” I say, scrunching my nose and shutting one eye.

“You need all of this. You deserve it.”

My cheeks warm beneath his sweetness. God, if you’d asked me even a day ago, I never would’ve called Jagger Davis sweet, yet here he is. And I’m more than surprised by all of it.

I smile, remembering our back and forth when he was backstage with Casey. “You told Casey she looked good. Good. Anyone with eyes could see how amazing she was.”

“Okay, she was great.” I nod in approval as he smirks. “I was wrong about something else, too.”

“What?”

“You don’t look good on my lap.”

My chest squeezes, anger and annoyance building. I want to slap him. I want to stay. I hate that two things can be true at once.

How can he be so sweet, then ruin it like that? “Excuse me?”

He chuckles in my ear and says, “You look like you belong there.”

God help me, but I want to .