Silver Bullets And Pretty Fangs. (WxW)

06. Black port Isn't Safe

VIVIAN.

Poppy never wanted to talk.

Or maybe she did but we ended up making out like wild animals just the way I like it. Almost like the same time I had her on my first night in town.

At first, what drew me in was her impeccable taste in art. I think. Or was it how her busty chest rose and fell when she looked at me? 
Maybe it was the tiny drizzle of wine at the corner of her lips that reminded me of a certain vile and delicious thing.

I don't know.

 I can't remember but one thing led to another and before I knew it, I had gotten a taste of both the fruit between her legs and the sweetness of the juice running through her veins. I liked them both.

Poppy also known as Pauline Sanderson is the mere definition of sexy and pretty with her big brown eyes, the brown shiny hair on her head, and the body of a seductress. Curves and hips I can never get tired of worshiping and gripping. But somehow, in a twisted way, I can't help the conspiracy theories. 

In my head, this is too good. Too perfect to be just a simple coincidence. 

I suspect Dad sent her for the sole purpose of keeping an eye on me and being everything I need so I don't go out there and be reckless. It's very convenient seeing as to him, I'm this little apple that if plucked away from its mother tree, would helplessly wither away.

But he is wrong. If he truly sent Poppy to keep me in check then he is so wrong. I'm doing great here. 
BlackPort is good for me.

AURORA plays from the sound system as we lay on the floor in the living room. Our bodies are so intertwined it's hard to tell which leg belongs to whom. Poppy has her head on my chest, playing around on my belly, while I run my hand back and forth behind her back — the nightmare from earlier forgotten. 

"Viv?" she whispers against my neck.

"Mmh," I hum, kissing the soft skin of her forehead. 

"What time is it?" she asks, not moving an inch.

"Don't know. But the sun is almost out." I glance at the huge window with blinds half pulled up. "Somewhere you need to be?"

"Yeah. Work," she groans, but I don't miss the tinge of irritation in her voice.

"Pauline, you don't have to keep going there."

She exhales. Tired and frustrated.

"Not again, please."

"I told you, I can get you a decent apartment and enough money to start up a store of your own, you don't have to keep working for that butt." I grit my teeth, picturing the tall asshole of a boss Poppy works for. 

This isn't the first time I have asked her to quit her job. I know her well enough now to know this time isn't going to change. 

To her, the idea is insane. She is Ms. Independent and would hate herself if she just agreed to take money from me. It's too easy, she says— even when it can help her stay away from that pervert who never fails to comment about how big her butt is or how hot her tits look every day.

The mere thought of men lusting over her is disgusting and if I wasn't hell-bent on keeping my promise to Anna, that motherfucker would be swallowing dirt now.

Speaking of promises, I still haven't gotten anywhere on the Derek issue. My mind is still missing parts of that night. 

"Why would you even want to do that for me, you won't even make me your girlfriend and you're ready to buy me a luxury life. Crazy." Poppy pulls me back.