Page 6 of Stealing Iris

“Yeah,” he confirms, tripping over himself to get into his car, a sensible little Camry that doesn’t quite fit his persona.

I keep going, pulling my phone as I reach the SUV. I stare at the screen, frowning, as if news of finding a lost hiker in California is the end of the world. “Something’s come up.” I feign anger, clenching my jaw for effect.

“Everything okay?” he asks, his hand hovering at the door handle.

“Yeah, but I need to cancel.”

His eyes nearly bug out of his head.

“Postpone, not cancel,” I correct. “Tomorrow.” Unless things go really well. “Nah, Sunday. This might go on for a while.”

“Not tomorrow?” he whines, as if someone took his favorite toy.

“Too many people around for the weekend.”

“Ahhh, yeah.” He taps his index finger at his temple. “I get it.”

“Sunday at nine.” We both get in our vehicles, and I wait until he’s ready to hit reverse before I pull out. I open the window while he does the same. “Bring Iris along.”

He gives a thumbs-up and laughs. I drive ahead, not pulling into traffic until he backs out of his spot. I head north, seeing a chance to kill some time at the light, while he goes south. Within a minute, his car is lost in a sea of brake lights.

Perfect. Taking a quick left, I park at the strip mall next door. Minutes later, I’m walking out of the motel office with a new keycard and a box of condoms. While it’s not an ideal location, I’m not up to waiting if she’s willing to stick around. It’s enough that I was able to maneuver the situation to my advantage.

I take the steps two at a time, shoving the card into the slot as my cock stirs, urging me to hurry the hell up. It’s quiet on the other side of the door. Did she turn off the TV? Did she leave? Disappointment hovers around me, urging me to hurry. With one quick turn, I make it in the door at the perfect moment.

Iris is standing by the bed wearing nothing but a thin motel towel, her brown eyes open wide in surprise, a wild cascade of curls draping around her shoulders like a cape. She’s the picture of innocence, an image I’d love to frame and hang in my bedroom. I’m fascinated. Something about her arouses my lust and a strange desire to know more about her.

“Turns out we’re not done after all,” I say, closing the door behind me.

CHAPTER THREE

IRIS

Dante. My pulse pounds as I stare at him. He’s waiting to see what I do, and somehow I know he won’t force the issue if I say no. For a few seconds, I consider that I’m able to refuse him. But honestly, it isn’t Conny’s anger that keeps me silent. I want this man. My body is responding to him of its own free will as a small flame of desire sparks deep inside me.

I try to process what I’m feeling, anticipation where there should be dread, desire replacing revulsion. For the first time I have a choice, the chance to experience sex on my terms. I get to explore his body, those strong arms I imagined around me earlier. My shoulders relax; my lips part softly as I drop my defenses. His answering smile is breathtaking.

He steps close and leans down, bringing me up on tiptoe with a hand at the back of my neck. My palm is high on his chest. The other climbs until my fingers are curving around the thick muscles of a full, rounded shoulder. His gaze roams my face. The minute his lips touch mine, my mind goes blank. I haven’t kissed anyone in a long, long time. And even then, it was nothing like this.

We’re close, his body making my insides vibrate from my chest down. We’re moving back, until the back of my legs bump against the bed, but then he stops. “No, not here.” He means this bed, the one we were on before with Conny. “There.” He guides me while pulling his shirt over his head then tossing it aside.

His chest is a mass of hills and valleys, with a well-defined arrow of hair starting along the muscles that ripple across his stomach with every move. I follow the path with my fingers, dipping down past his belt to cover the area creating such a big bulge under his zipper. I’m touching him, yet the results have my body releasing moisture in a way I’ve never experienced.

The rough towel is tightening on my nipples with each breath I take. “Beautiful,” he says in a husky voice. The way he’s running a finger along my cleavage makes me want more. He kisses me again, pulling me close, like I’m the one thing he wants more than anything in the world. Then the corner of the towel comes loose. His body pressed against me holds it there, but Dante isn’t willing to wait. The heat of his palm sears my skin, his hand going over and around my breast, holding the weight, like I’m his for the taking. He tugs the towel away from my body and drops it into a heap at my feet. As he explores my nipple with his thumb, I can feel the pull all the way down to my core.

“Get in bed.”

I force my wobbly legs to climb in, stretching out under cool sheets. I’m not sure what to do next, so I roll onto my side, waiting for him. His eyes never leave mine as his jeans go down.Can I take his length? He’s big. I know exactly how big. Part of me knows it’ll hurt, but I want the memory of an experience I won’t want to stuff into a dark hole in the back of my mind and slam a cover over it.

The mattress shifts as Dante gets in beside me, coming closer, claiming most of the bed with the sheer size of him. He’s everywhere. His mouth, his hands, his chest, and even the leg he has between mine gives me an unexpected thrill. I moan, low in my throat as his lips move along the side of my neck.

“You didn’t come last time,” he says, looking down between my legs where he’s slipping two fingers. I’m wet, embarrassingly so, but I like how it feels when he touches me there. “Iris.” His voice comes out slow and thick.

He lays me back, tasting the underside of my breasts. His heated mouth burns a trail across my stomach, licking under my belly button before moving lower. Setting a knee next to mine, he makes room between my legs. I tense as he settles at the bottom of the bed, positioning my calves over his shoulders. “You don’t—”

His cheek, a smooth plane, slides along the inside of my thigh, the tip of his tongue tracing a path on my skin. The air between us is charged with a force stealing away all the oxygen.

Reaching the middle of the V he created, he runs his mouth over my swollen flesh, and I can’t help but cry out. My breath rushes out with each sound. He tastes and licks, dropping kisses down my folds then pushes the tip of his tongue into my slit and rides up and over my clit. I come up, bracing on my elbows, but he doesn’t stop.

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