Page 137 of Iris
“I’m taking a break,” I tell Freya as I untie the apron around my wait and throw it under the bar.
Not even looking up from the register where she’s swiping a credit card, she waves. “Got it.”
I stroll to the back room and pull out my phone. I don’t know why, but I decide to open up the Stitch app.
Iris’s name is the first to flash on screen.
Apparently, she’s is on a date. Another one, according to the Queen Bee.
So, I indulge.
I send her a message.
Describe your panties to me, brat.
CHAPTER
FORTY
Iris
My breath is caught in a cage of fire and the flames lick down to my stomach, and then lower, making me tingle and ache.
Even I can smell my scent through the blocker as it blooms.
Killian
I’m hoping they’re stupid, impractical things made of net and lace and nestled in against the folds of your velvety cunt lips.
Killian
Are they wet?
Killian
Sticking to you?
It’s hard to stay calm, even as I look over the table at my brother and the Alpha I’m on the date with. I’ve already completely forgotten his name.
Oh, god. Will they be able to smell me?
But as I dart my gaze between them, I don’t think they can.
I let a slow breath out and squeeze my hand over my phone on my lap. Luckily, I had already set it to silent so I could send Quinn little S.O.S. texts during the dinner.
“Whatever you’re doing, stop,” my brother whispers harshly. “Don’t ignore him. It’s rude.”
I look at him as Errol talks to the waiter, asking him about the Specials for the evening.
Heath leans even closer to me. “We’re lucky Errol wants a mate and isn’t picky. His only requirement was an Omega with a good pedigree.”
“Bow. Wow.”
“Iris.”
“Heath.”
“You’re a pain in the ass,” he huffs.
