Page 7 of Iris
But there is no music. Besides the rapid beat of my heart.
He brushes his stubbled cheek against mine, and it’s electric sparks bursting into life, zaps of energy that race through my veins. When he leans down, his breath is a kiss of soft warmth against the curve of my neck, my shoulder, and up. He slows our sway, and I’m wet, quivering, throbbing deep inside.
As he lifts his head, our eyes meet.
Then, his lips come close to mine, a promise of a kiss hovering close.
“What are you…” I start, struggling to find words.
He moves closer still, and I can taste that kiss in my imagination.
And then?—
“There you are, Riven.” Someone flings the door open, and the big man steps in and turns. “We’re ready with the payment.”
The silent stranger sets me down and gives me one more heated look, before leaving and closing the door.
I slide slowly into a heap on the floor, still clutching the starshine.
Who the hell was that?
CHAPTER
THREE
Xavier
Fucking typical. Banton didn’t ask who the girl was, didn’t even look at her.
Not that I can talk to him.
But I can make myself exceptionally clear when I need to.
Without pen and paper.
Without a phone or device.
Without signing.
I’m fucking six foot seven. People usually know what I want to communicate. When I want to communicate.
“Riven.” He signs the papers and roughly folds them, sliding the leather envelope in with it.
It’s not really an envelope, more a conceit Killian and I thought up for when we do deals around Sabine. All the client does is slide in the cash or paper envelope, and we move on.
I hold the papers and envelope, only half listening as he goes on.
“Listen, I’ll let you and Black know if this stuff’s a hit.”
I raise a brow, weighing the bundle in my hand. It feels a little…light.
“You know my employers love the quality of the wines and spirits you get. Top notch, and I’m sure this’ll be no different.”
He doesn’t understand sign. I could use my pad and paper, but there’s no need. I hear him. I slide the papers and leather envelope into my pocket.
I sign, slow and deliberately. He knows his name at least. Killian warned him to know that much, while I’m a little more placid than people expect.
Killian’s the reckless, wild one, the one who seems to think trouble’s one of his best friends.
